The hoagie is Philly’s true sandwich icon. Here are the best places to get one.

I loved the extra pop of pepper shooters stuffed with provolone and prosciutto that lend a zesty spark to the Old Italian at this Newtown Square standby. Opened in 1995 by Michael and Traci Carneglia, who came from South Philly and South Jersey, it introduced Delco to the concept of seeded rolls. The signature Cut Above Italian is the local favorite for its dedication to imported meats (no Delco-style “meat wraps” of pepper ham here, sorry). But the ultimate can’t-miss order here is the hot beef hoagie, which Michael, who trained as a butcher, cuts himself from a steamship of prime roast beef and then dunks into a holy bath of dark, rich gravy that provides all the deep, rich, juicy savor the crusty rolls can hold. — Craig LaBan

The tang of cured meats and fresh Sarcone’s rolls fill the air at this cozy South Philly sandwich corner where the meats are pulled straight from the slicer and layered onto hoagies with care. The prosciutto-laced Olde Italian is excellent. But Antonio’s is rightfully best known for carrying on the legacy of this shop’s previous occupant, Chickie’s: the legendary veggie hoagie. Made from breaded baked eggplant layered over sweet peppers, a bitter (yet tender) green cushion of minced broccoli rabe, and tangy shreds of sharp provolone, this combination is a study in contrasting textures and flavors that lands with a satisfaction that I find consistently overshadows Antonio’s meatier options. One notable variation, the Veggie #2, swaps out that eggplant for a slow-baked bell pepper lined with tangy tomato sauce and a comforting bread crumb stuffing. (This Antonio’s is not to be confused with Antonio’s Italian Specialties not far away on W. Ritner Street, which specializes in cutlet-based sandwiches.) — Craig LaBan

You’ll need to invest a few minutes after you order your hoagie at Cara Jo Castellino and Matthew Barrow’s usually-bustling corner market in Fishtown to allow them to build your sandwich. The sliced-to-order meats and mindful application of ingredients (oil that’s swiped on the Liscio’s roll side to side, not lengthwise, to minimize sogginess) — as well as the quality fillings themselves — yield some of our favorites. Few other shops offer treats such as the Fig Pig (a sweet-and-salty flavor bomb of fig jam, prosciutto, mascarpone, and sweet roasted red peppers on ciabatta) and the Aunt Lucy, a non-mayo spicy tuna salad studded with artichokes. Tasty things come to those who wait.

Italian immigrant Cosmi Quattro founded his South Philly corner grocery in 1932, and his great-nephew Mike Seccia turned it toward sandwiches in the early 1980s. Inquirer columnist Rick Nichols walked in one day in 1999 and ordered an Italian hoagie but asked Seccia to add a slice of mortadella, with its sweet bits of pistachio, to add balance to the hot capicola, salami, ham, and Provolone. In his article, Rick called the result “very close to religious” and sent the world to Eighth and Dickinson. Seccia changed the sandwich’s build to reflect the kudos. (He’s also changed the rolls over the years; it’s now from Liscio’s.) The Italian is still Cosmi’s bestseller among a full line of hoagies including the Godfather, action-packed with prosciutto, soppressata, fresh mozzarella, basil, green olives, roasted peppers, sundried tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. — Michael Klein

Old-fashioned Italian delis — with hanging hams and cheeses, a refrigerated case full of house-made foods, and aisles full of imported goods — are further and fewer nowadays. The Dattilo family is still at it after more than 50 years on a busy corner in Rhawnhurst, turning out solid hoagies on rolls by local bakery Gino’s as well as Corropolese from East Norriton. The Italian hoagie, of course, is one of the draws, and so is the overstuffed tuna salad, but what really gets people through the doors is the Main Event, an example of generous portioning: Genoa salami, pepperoni, and hot capicola over provolone, with marinated artichoke hearts and house-made roasted peppers tossed on top.  — Michael Klein

Visiting Haddon Height’s Del Buono’s is like a taking a trip to a hoagie version of Hershey Park. A “quirky circus” of molded-cement animal statues and other figures (Pinocchio, Humpty Dumpty, the Blues Brothers) greet you outside. Inside, you can watch as thousands of rolls ride a roller coaster — they slide out of the oven onto a conveyor belt that eventually winds its way above your head and into the other side of the factory. This will invariably distract you from ordering a hoagie, but don’t miss those. The folks working the deli case at the adjoining Carmen’s will build it with your choice of cold cuts, be it bologna and cheese or roast beef, but go with the specials: Papa Ron and Rose’s. The former gets layered with thick cuts of capicola, salami, fresh mozzarella, LTO, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar; the latter is loaded with capicola, prosciutto, regular and sharp provolone, soppressata, and roasted red peppers. Be warned: A large hoagie here could feed you for days.

Is a zep a hoagie? “It’s a hoagie but it’s not,” said Inquirer critic Craig LaBan, who thinks it’s fair to describe it as the hoagie’s Norristown cousin. There are some zep rules. One, it may have no lettuce. The onions and tomatoes are hand-sliced thick, giving you veggie in every bite. There’s usually only one of kind of meat (or tuna salad), usually salami (folded, not laid flat), sliced provolone, a dusting of oregano, a squirt of olive oil, and — if you want to do it right — a smear of hot pepper relish. (You can get mayo, but … why?) Eve’s, a modest strip-mall shop just outside of Norristown Borough, is one of the few remaining practitioners of the zep, whose name origin is debated — in honor of the zeppelin (as its origin coincides with the 1937 Hindenburg explosion), or maybe after 1930s deli owner Jimmy Zep, or possibly because the rolls are slightly squatter and longer than a typical hoagie roll. (Note that the small zeps come on kaiser rolls, all from Corropolese.) — Michael Klein

If you’re not headed to this next-gen corner sandwich shop in Queen Village for cutlets, you’re opting for thoughtfully conceived hoagies on rolls by Cacia’s Bakery. The Marie, for example, is a palate-bending combo of thin-sliced, 24-month D.O.P. Parma prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, grape tomatoes, arugula, and hits of lemon zest and spritz. The Papale, named after Invincible movie subject and Eagles walk-on Vince Papale, is a turkey hoagie like no other: It’s pepper turkey, Cooper Sharp, rings of sliced onion, what Craig LaBan calls “a finely shaved cushion of shredduce,” and a healthy application of oil. — Michael Klein

Dennis Fink, a proud Marine and Vietnam vet now in his mid-70s, works the counter in his low-key Tacony hoagie shop, mainly, he says, because his wife wants him out of the house. For hoagie fanciers, this is a mighty good thing. Fink and his crew make the Northeast’s most distinctive Italian hoagie. They layer slices of cotechino, capicola, Genoa salami, and pepperoni, sprinkle on chopped sharp provolone (this is key) and slather a seeded Liscio’s roll with house-made olive spread (the other key). Our No. 2 choice is the Pennypacker, a creamy, decadent sandwich of turkey breast, bacon, sharp provolone, and Caesar dressing. Your sandwich will come with a cello-wrapped peppermint, a distinctive touch. — Michael Klein

The hoagie selection at Liberty Kitchen is so vast — more than a dozen options in all — that it constitutes an embarrassment of riches. (This is to say nothing of the shop’s TikTok-famous cutlet sandwiches.) On top of that, you can get them in nearly every corner of the city, with outposts in Fishtown, West Philly, and a recently opened stall inside Chestnut Hill's Market at the Fareway. Good luck in choosing between a basic, meticulously composed “salumeria” hoagie — available in pretty much any variety you can think of from Italian to tuna to turkey, etc. — or one of Liberty Kitchen's many specialties, including the della casa (hot capicola, roasted eggplant, fresh mozz, sundried peppers, and arugula spiked with Calabrian chili oil), the vegan jawn (broccoli rabe, marinated white beans, copious banana pepper rings, arugula), and the heritage ham (prosciutto cotto, Swiss, pickled red onions, “dijawnaise,” and “hoagie vin”). The secret to these wondrous hoagies is their construction: Liberty Kitchen wraps the lettuce, tomato, and onion (or whatever veg) in the meat and cheese to ensure every bite is balanced and perfectly packaged; co-owner Matt Budenstein credits the “meat tuck” to White House Subs in Atlantic City. Budenstein's pick on the menu here? The classic Italian. — Jenn Ladd

If everyone has a hidden hoagie shop gem, that tucked-away place on an obscure corner whose excellence has inspired the devotion of those in the know, mine is Lil’ Nicks. This tiny-but-mighty sandwich counter resides on a pie-shaped block just east of Broad Street where W. Moyamensing slices diagonally across Shunk and Clarion — just a half block from the extended family’s other Italian provisions market, Big Nick’s. Lil’ Nicks is all about the sandwiches, and owner Nick Maiale Jr.’s crew crafts the classics as well anyone, including an “Italian Inferno” of hot capicolla, hot soppressata, and sharp provolone that practically curves into a cold-cut smile inside a seeded Aversa’s roll bordered inside by a colorful ring of crunchy, well-dressed produce. Lil’ Nick’s strongest hoagie suit, though, may be its repertoire of cutlets, which are fried to order in a pot on the little stove in back. I’ve long been partial to the cutlet deluxe layered with prosciutto and mozzarella. But the blush sauce-striped Kristi layered with fresh mozz and pesto is fast becoming a new favorite. — Craig LaBan

In the grand history of hoagies in Philadelphia, Middle Child is a new kid on the block, but it has quickly carved a path toward being an institution — one that speaks to a younger generation of hoagie consumers. Despite the slickly cheeky branding, Middle Child’s casual Washington Square West location, opened in 2017 is not just a vibe. The carefully constructed hoagies hit every time. The So Long Sal, an homage to Reading Terminal Market’s erstwhile Salumeria, balances its layers of salami, prosciutto cotto, sharp provolone, and arugula with a smear of artichoke spread and balsamic mayo, while the Phoagie features eggplant painted with sweet, umami-rich hoisin sauce, nodding at bowls of pho with sprigs of fresh cilantro. — Kiki Aranita

This South Philly institution is one of my favorite spots for fresh pasta, tubs of marinara, and boxes of frozen ravioli. But the Oregon Avenue location is also one of the most reliable hoagie kitchens in town. It also happens to be one of the very few in South Philly that are open Sundays, which means P&S is a frequent go-to for our Eagles game day hoagies. The P&S Special with prosciutto and roasted peppers is always a hit on Liscio rolls, as is the Sharp Italian (a standard Italian with aged provolone) and the cured meat bomb of the Godfather. The hot sandwich side also hits the spot with chicken cutlet and meatball sandwiches. The South Jersey location also offers a full hoagie menu. — Craig LaBan

A hoagie can be a delicate, subtle thing: the quietly architected arrangement of the layers; the precision of slicing, seasoning, and saucing; the harmonious balance between meat, cheese, and bread. It can also just explode into your senses. This is not to say there’s no precision in the hoagies at Paesano’s: The volume is very fastidiously dialed all the way up. The Daddy Wad is a classic Italian hoagie at its loudest, every component screaming: the roasted tomatoes that burst when your teeth press into them, the serrated edge of the sharp provolone and raw onion and vinegar and peppers, the cloudburst of seasoning. Then there’s the way it all seems to erupt out of the roll — which you can have gluten-free, as Paesano’s offers some of the best gluten-free rolls in the city, according to Craig LaBan. (His standbys amidst the dozen-odd sandwiches on the menu include the Gustaio, with lamb sausage, gorgonzola, and sun-dried cherry mostarda, and the Arista, with suckling pig, broccoli rabe, and long hots.)  The price for all that exuberance? These hoagies are best eaten on-premises. Fortunately, the Paesano’s dining room has all the charm you could possibly want in an Italian Market sandwich shop, so there’s plenty of reason to stick around. — Matt Buchanan

Sometimes we don’t make it very far to the Jersey Shore before stopping for lunch. But that’s usually intentional, because we take a detour through Gloucester County for some excellent hoagies at this classic Italian deli in Sewell. The sharp Italian hoagie is fantastic, a perfectly layered blend of meats and finely shredded veggies (including pickled peppers) that makes for a hearty sandwich without it feeling overstuffed. I also especially love the Chicken Giuseppe, a crisp chicken cutlet hoagie topped with juicy bruschetta tomatoes and provolone. — Craig LaBan

The hoagies are built on Corropolese rolls and come with a side of old-fashioned, South Philly-style service at this jampacked Italian deli in the strip center near the stadium complex that also houses Chickie’s & Pete’s and Celebre’s Pizzeria. The classic Italian is a classic, indeed: thin-sliced prosciutto, Genoa salami, ham, mortadell’, capicol’, and Provy stacked atop shrettuce. The veggie hoagie combines grilled and marinated eggplant, which get a bite from the broccoli rabe, while a bed of sharp provolone balances the sweet roasted peppers. There’s house-made mozz on the Mozzarella Bella, which gets sliced tomatoes, roasted peppers, and extra-virgin olive oil. Another plus: Most of the small versions of the sandwiches are $7.50, a huge value. — Michael Klein

Let’s acknowledge something upfront: These are not the easiest hoagies to get. They are exclusively served inside Pizzeria Beddia’s Hoagie Room, a reservation-only experience for six people that should be on every meat-eating Philadelphian’s bucket list because they are worth all the fuss. Assembled before your eyes by one of Beddia’s hoagie experts, the hoagies are a testament to sandwich architecture. They come neatly stacked with cheese and meat (thinly shaved slices of capicola and mortadella) or artfully stuffed with vegetables (mushrooms, broccoli rabe, red pepper in the veggie). The one we can’t stop thinking about, though, is the tuna hoagie — packed with oil-slicked shreds of tuna laced with sardines and olive tapenade for extra oomph and balanced with so much bright, crunchy parsley, you may wonder if that’s the real star ingredient. They’re all served on Pizzeria Beddia’s crusty, seeded, house-baked rolls. — Jenn Ladd

This century-old institution is proof that true hoagie culture is about experiencing a sense of place, not just ordering a sandwich to be delivered by DoorDash. Stand in line inside this sandwich oasis at S. 11th and Annin Streets, and the hoagie shop smell comes over you first, the fragrant piles of raw onions, juicy sliced tomatoes, and dried oregano perfuming the air. The delicate crunch of seeded Liscio’s long rolls being split open cues the whir of turning meat slicers, where an assembly line of employees efficiently peel off shear cold-cut sheets destined straight for your sandwich, before all those blade-emulsified meat flavors can settle. All that freshness pays off best in the standard Italian combining cotechino, capicola, and Genoa salami with provolone. When it comes to the toothier cured meats of the Old Fashioned, however, I prefer a crustier roll than this shop uses. Ricci’s, which recently opened a Logan Square location, is preparing to expand with franchises. — Craig LaBan

Dave Avicolli and Steve Yancey started as teenagers at this Italian deli, founded in 1965 by the Carmolino family, then bought it in 1988. They've since turned it into a sandwich shrine that rises on quality ingredients (more imported meats than most Delco shops; seeded rolls) and no-shortcut preparations, like the house-dried and grated bread crumbs that elevate their juicy-yet-crisp cutlets to cult status. Definitely try the cutlet special with broccoli rabe, roast peppers, and provolone, but Ro-Lynn's signature Italian, the Godfather, is also a standout in the genre, graced with real Parma prosciutto, fresh roasted peppers, and a seeded roll anointed with extra-virgin olive oil. — Craig LaBan

This Ridge Avenue market is a Roxborough oasis for artisan local foodstuffs, from Dead King Bread sourdough to Marchiano’s stuffed breads, Mac Mart mac-’n-cheese tubs to go, tomato pie, and Slurp This frozen ramen kits. But T & F is first and foremost a stellar hoagie deli destination, drawing faithful neighborhood crowds for sandwiches on sturdy Corropolese rolls packed with thick stacks of quality cold cuts turned in some intriguing combinations. The Italian (“add pro-shoot”) is a classic hoagie done right; the U-shaped curl of mixed meats embracing oregano-dusted onions and tomato over a crunchy bottom layer of banana peppers and crumbled aged provolone. My other favorite combo, the Evie, is a study in bold contrasts  — a thick wad of piquant aged soppressata pressed atop a fiery roasted long hot pepper then cushioned by the creamy sweetness of a thick, moist slice of fresh mozzarella drizzled in syrupy balsamic. My only complaint: It’s cash only. — Craig LaBan