The Most Overpriced Sandwich Chains In The US

It's impossible not to notice how expensive it's gotten to buy a basic sandwich at a chain sandwich shop, let alone a combo meal. Somewhere along the line, this basic vehicle of sustenance became a specialty item that can set you back a fair amount of your weekly food money if you're not careful. Did the cost of ingredients rise so much that dining outlets had no choice but to send their prices soaring? It's not like you're being served slabs of platinum on a golden tray with a side of diamond chips. Justifying the drastic increases is getting more and more difficult for restaurants who know that their dedicated clientele who enjoy sandwiches daily aren't likely to give up their taste for sandwiches anytime soon.

In the world of sandwich chains across the U.S., there are clear advantage-takers when it comes to the price of their creations. Whether you are looking at a small bite to tide you over until dinner or planning for your workday lunch, the more readily available shops on the circuit are bound to keep more of your hard earned money than you may be expecting. It's time for a rundown of the most expensive sandwich shops in the fast food business to give conscious consumers a heads-up.

Though a portion of the revenue at Firehouse Subs goes to support public safety and helps equip first responders with essential materials, the cost of the outlet's sandwiches seems misaligned with customers' dining budgets. Even the most basic of heroes you can order cost as much as a full meal might have in the past, an increase called out by Reddit users when a $3.00 jump caused a bit of a dining ado — and rightly so. That's not a small chunk of change to cough up in addition to what you're already paying.

An innocuous blend of smoked turkey and provolone prepared as a small sandwich rings up at $6.99, while a medium elevates that to $10.49. If you're hungry enough for a large, you'll be forking out more than $14.00 for your handheld creation. Turning your sandwich into a combo and adding on Firehouse Subs menu items like chips, soft drink, and an additional side brings those prices to a choke-worthy $10.70 or so for a small sandwich, all the way to beyond $18.00 for the large sandwich. Prices like this sound more like what you'd pay for a sit-down dinner with tableside service, not walk-in-walk-out food that comes in a bag.

Subway became famous as the home of the $5 Footlong, but the chain has done away with such cheap and hearty fare. Locations still lure hungry passers-by with the irresistible aroma of baking bread, though once inside, those potential customers are likely to be struck by sticker shock when making their choices. This popular outlet may still be slinging sandwiches with customizable toppings, but the finished product has become one of the most expensive fast food decisions diners can make.

At the low end, a six-inch Cold Cut Combo on Italian bread, the most fundamental of sandwich structures, has risen to about $6.49, while a footlong bumps your cost up to $10.09 or so. If you want double meat, you'll pay another $4.00, which isn't so attractive to customers looking for affordable eats. Interested in turning it into a combo with chips and a drink? That'll be another $4.00, thank you very much. Start your meal with a premium pick from the Subway Series selection, and the sandwich prices leap as high as over $9.00 for a six-inch Monster and $15.00-plus for a foot-long like Honey Mustard BBQ Chicken. It's enough to make your stomach hurt before you even put in your order.

You may prefer the specialty selections at Jersey Mike's to less creative combinations at other sandwich shops in your area, but be prepared to pay dearly for the privilege of chowing down on your favorites. Even the fastest-growing restaurant chain in America grabs its customers by the wallet and squeezes the green out of them, making it a challenge to add sides and sips without booking a few overtime hours at the office.

Any food that comes in a mini size option priced at $6.75 is bound to blow your dining budget with the rest of the possibilities. An unfussy ham and provolone sandwich starts there and quickly gets out of hand with a regular size version or wrap for $9.15 and a giant version for $16.65. Other opportunities to overpay for your sandwich include giant-size California Chicken Cheese Steak for $17.25, Club Supreme for $17.95, and Cancro Special for $18.85. No matter how much you might adore sandwiches, it's not worth getting mashed like this.

Toasted subs moved front and center when Quiznos arrived on the scene in the early 2000s. The company may have innovated toasted subs, but this far into its fast-food run, a little heat in a modified Easy Bake oven doesn't validate the elevated prices on the menu board. Even if Quiznos' up-and-down history has forced over-the-counter costs higher for devoted diners, at some point, there's no more a sandwich fan can give without slicing into their utility money and rent fund — bad news for an outlet without stability on the fast-food landscape.

If you just can't resist a Quiznos toasted sub, know that you'll be paying $7.99 or so for a small Classic Italian; go a little larger and that price changes to $9.99 for a regular and a sigh-inducing $11.99 for a large. Prices rise for more prime fillings of course, with steak and chicken starting slightly less at $7.50 for a small but climbing as high as over $13.00 for a large. Turning your sandwich into a combo adds between $3.50 and $4.00 to the total. And with price points similar to the sandwiches, Quiznos salads won't cut you any breaks just by ditching the bread and ramping up the veggies. With such a sky-high pricing structure, Quiznos gets a Quiz-NO for practical eaters who like their money more than their sandwiches.

Even at a long-timer like Blimpie — with more than 50 years in operation — a sandwich is just bread with cold cuts and toppings. Though the chain gets creative with its offerings and even provides a value sandwich for $5.00 ($8.00 as a combo meal), the rest of the menu is worthy of a second thought — and a third thought after that. In fact, you may as well make plans to eat somewhere else before you get your heart set on this spot.

In fairness, Blimpie does offer the most affordable regular-sized sandwich of any outlet on the list. The fact that it's still around $5.79 for a ham and Swiss roll and about $10.79 for a large isn't likely to ease the pain in your wallet, however. Asking for a premium sandwich like a turkey Reuben means you'll be reducing your bank account by $7.40 for a small or $13.50 for a large, give or take. And a large special edition sandwich featuring pulled pork with mac and cheese will leave you about $17.00 poorer. If your disposable cash is tight, this is not the sandwich shop you're looking for.

At Jimmy John's the art of overcharging customers for handmade subs goes to unpleasant heights, with some orders nearing $20.00 for the sandwich alone. That's a mighty bold move for a sandwich shop that started out as a hot dog stand. Though the hash being slung these days is of a heartier nature, there's not much the chain can do to make its case for cranking up the cost to such drastic elevations.

You may presume you're being overcharged when you see The Pepe filled with ham and provolone ring up at $8.29 for an eight-inch regular; go for a 16-inch giant and that number rolls up to $15.99. But those are actual prices for a straightforward sandwich bagged all by itself. And if you're a protein hound looking to multiply your intake with a giant Beach Club? Well, that'll be $18.59 before tax. Even the Jimmy John's reward program can't balance out that kind of financial madness. Please pull forward to the window ... and drive to a restaurant with more sensible prices.

Which Wich may glorify the submarine sandwich blueprint in favor of a more specialized sandwich shop model, but that doesn't mean the outlet's prices are any more appealing. In fact, this deluxe deli gets super sneaky with its pricing structure, herding famished visitors into an ever-expanding list of options, with each threatening to double the price of the sandwich itself. Nobody said corporate cuisine was fair, but this sort of money elevator feels a little like a hunger trap.

The basic orders at Which Wich run between $9.25 and $11.00; upsizing adds from $4.00 to $7.75, and switching to bowls or wraps ramps up the base price by $2.00. And if you want fries or chips and a drink to go with your 'wich, you'll be piling another $4.00 to $6.50 on the counter. So if you're going all out with a full-sized sandwich, fries and a beverage, you'll pay more than $25.00 for your packaged meal. And don't forget, you have to cover gas to get back and forth. Decide wisely.

One of my all-time favorite sandwiches was Schlotzsky's original vegetarian deluxe deal. It offered sprouts, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, and spreads on a crispy roll with the taste and texture of a handcrafted English muffin. It was so impactful on my eating life, I replicated it at home, though the experience paled in comparison. I don't recall what I paid for it in the early days of this company's presence on the quick dining circuit, but I know it wasn't close to the prices Schlotzky's charges these days.

What do you get at Schlotzsky's for your hard-earned money? You can get a small version of the Original for about $7.49, which sounds like too little food for such a big price tag. It gets pricier with a medium for $8.99, and the large is just out of hand with a cost of $15.79. Giant-sized specialties like the Smokey Cheese sandwich head into $18.00 territory. That's a lot of dough for meat and cheese on bread. Toasty calzones and flatbreads are all around $12.00, as are salads. If all you have is a ten spot, your best bet is a cup of soup for $6.00. The spoon is presumably free, but you may want to check before you order to make sure.

If cheese steak-style sandwiches are your preference, Charley's is the place for you. If you're eating out on a budget, you may want to eye up the menu before making plans to hit the location near you. The fillings are hot and fresh, the bread is soft and flavorful, and the price you pay for a luxury fast-food bite is prohibitive if you haven't checked the menu online prior to making your purchase.

Are small sandwiches supposed to cost nearly $9.00? They do at Charley's, at least when they come in Hot Shot Italiano form. A regular will run you $10.89, while a large will drop onto the table for a hefty $13.99 — and that's without sides or a drink. With 2 for $10.00 specials, Charley's does seem to be trying to help defray dining costs for its most reliable patrons, even if the offer only lasts a limited time. Maybe by the time it ends, you'll have won the lottery to keep yourself in sandwiches. At prices like these, every windfall helps.

While it's true that Panera's menu offers more than just sandwiches in its dining rooms, the fact that sandwiches are part of the mix makes them sandwich shop-adjacent and therefore fair game for the line-up. Knowing the company promotes itself as a bakery may seem like a proper reason for jacking up prices on the presumably deluxe creations here. But you can only polish the apple so much before the shine wears through, and in the case of Panera, simple sandwiches are a dull excuse for making customers pay through the nose for a mouthwatering bite.

Take the Toasted Italian, for instance. A half-sandwich clocks in at a stunning $8.79, while a whole calculates out at $12.69. Extra ham and bacon are another $3.29 each, a premium usually reserved for avocado slices. Panera goes the extra mile by throwing in the chips for "Free!" as the website gleefully proclaims. Only the most unsavvy sandwich shopper would miss the fact that they're paying between $10.00 and $15.00 dollars for a sandwich, which makes the thrown-in chips feel more than a little hokey. You can make great sandwiches at home for far less and skip the free chip head pat.

Cheba Hut may be a smaller chain located in just 15 states across the U.S., but that doesn't keep them from competing with the more familiar restaurants when it comes to what the shop charges customers for a sandwich. Tailored to the cannabis-friendly crowd, these creations purport to satisfy the munchies, though the prices are bound to chew through your lunch money faster than you can tap your card and pay your bill.

A modest four-inch La Canna sandwich at the Hut, featuring folds of Italian slices, is $6.99 or so — and it's not even a full six-inch like other sub shops offer. Opt for an eight-inch version and the price is now $11.19; try the foot-long and it's a cool $15.09. If these prices were any higher, you'd need Drew Carey to host a Showcase Showdown so you can try to win one instead. Most items on the menu follow a similar structure, so don't go thinking you'll escape this sandwich ship shakedown by making a different selection. Your key to freedom is to turn around and find a more favorable way to spend your fast-food funds.

With locations in five Western states, Togo's is a little guy on the big bad sandwich scene, doing its best to compete against better-known eateries that keep trying to eat its lunch. That means hiking up prices to make the most of every sale. For Togo's guests, the sandwiches keep getting smaller as the prices get higher, like an Alice in Wonderland scenario, but instead of a label that reads "Eat me," the tag on your sandwich bag is more likely to ask, "Are you sure this is the best decision for your financial situation?" The answer to that question is almost always, "Probably not."

Keep your order at street level with a Classic Italian sandwich, and you can choose from a three-inch sandwich — yes, really ... three — for $5.75. If you're hungry enough for a full six-inch sandwich, that'll take $9.75 out of your piggy bank. And if you go for broke (literally) with a nine-inch, you're sacrificing $13.25 for bread and cold cuts with veggies on top. Even the Mad Hatter would find something more affordable to serve at the tea party. And the White Rabbit? He'd insist that you're late for an important date — with a better-priced meal somewhere else.

It was a challenge to choose the most expensive sandwich shops on the block, considering the rising cost of fast food at almost every chain around. To get an idea of what might constitute affordable food, I used the familiar $5.00 mark as a baseline, since it's a sensible price point for sandwiches that several fast-food outlets seem to be returning to for promotional value meal pricing. Any shop with a sandwich priced over $5.00 was fair game, especially considering this price generally covers the smallest of sandwiches on the menu. If a restaurant can't feed you a simple sandwich for less than a five spot, then "overpriced" is an apt description.

Having set the base price, I zeroed in on one of the more basic sandwich orders and examined prices for other sizes offered. In most instances, there wasn't a basic one- or two-dollar difference between small, medium, and large sizes; at some sandwich shops, prices nearly doubled from size to size. This was also the price for the sandwich alone. Any combos elevate the prices into the realm of the ridiculous. And that isn't to mention the more specialized offerings I perused to get a sense of the full range of prices. With pricey possibilities for extra toppings and add-ins like sides and drinks, the choices for the list became clear.