All About the Best Sandwich in the City

Saigon Sandwich is a San Francisco treasure I’ll reminisce about well into old age. I’m already nostalgic for it because it feels like a relic of the past, a time when a good meal didn’t break the bank. But they’re here in the Tenderloin, open for business every day from 7AM–6PM (5:30 PM Monday & Tuesday). I stop in maybe once a week; chances are you’ll see me there.

A longtime Brokeass favorite, the little bánh mì shop on Larkin Street draws love from all across the city. I was riding the 19-Polk home from work one day when the driver stopped right in front of Saigon Sandwich, turned off the engine, and went inside. Someone speculated this was a restroom break. “Nah,” said another. “Lunch break.” In two minutes the driver returned holding a precious bundle of joy that he proceeded to eat while driving.

More recently, I was one customer away from ordering when a man and his son joined the line. “Here we go,” he told the kid standing in the doorway. “Best sandwiches in the city.”

Renowned, revered, respected.

It always surprises me how fast they churn out those sandwiches. You won’t wait for long, even when there’s a line (and often there is). Saigon Sandwich operates at hyperspeed. One time this guy in front of me ordered six bánh mì. Normally I would hate that guy, but his order was ready in five measly minutes. Another man dropped by, in a shiny blue suit. He put in a catering order for 120 bánh mì. Making a roast pork sandwich for me (no carrots, extra sauce) took almost no time at all.

This is not the place to dawdle, linger, or otherwise be indecisive. In this space, preparedness is politeness. The ladies at Saigon Sandwich work hard. Serving a fast, filling, well-made meal takes efficiency, cleanliness, and teamwork. For under six dollars, they aren’t asking for much in return. I should say their tip jar is not as conspicuous as, say, one in a coffeehouse, so remember to tip and tip well. 

Saigon Sandwich’s 2024 Menu

Saigon Sandwich’s bánh mì are like a rent-controlled apartment, an increasingly rare good deal that isn’t as prone to inflation. In the last ten years, their prices have gone up a whopping $2 to a total of $5.50, with tax. That’s part of what makes them an institution—specifically, a Tenderloin institution. They abstain from the gatekeeping San Francisco restaurants commit against would-be diners by charging consistently fair prices. 

I don’t care how great your food is. If you’re charging $20 for a goddamn sandwich, I hope your business burns to the ground. 

Anyway, here are Saigon Sandwich’s prices as they stand in 2024:

How to order:

Don’t get cute. Consider your options and think. What do you like? Now how can you make that easy for the people you’re asking? Because, as genial as the ladies at Saigon Sandwich are, they don’t have time for your bullshit. Don’t go crazy with substitutions and please fuck off with any gluten-free nonsense. San Francisco is lousy with other spots where you can be insufferable.

Like we said ten years ago, treat this like a Soup Nazi situation. Know what you want when it’s your turn to order. Have your cash ready—they don’t accept cards and they certainly won’t take Apple Pay. Don’t bother asking how their day is going. Say “please,” “thank you,” and go enjoy your delicious treasure… somewhere else. They don’t have indoor seating. You don’t eat there for the atmosphere anyway.

Saigon Sandwich
560 Larkin Street (between Turk and Eddy)
Tenderloin/Little Saigon, San Francisco