Illustration by Tuesday Hadden

Student Life ventured out to The Gramophone STL one recent spring evening to taste-test their famous sandwiches. Here’s what we thought!

Mississippi Nights Club

There is nothing faint about this sandwich. The Mississippi Nights Club is a monster, an institution. It seems like what happens when someone dumps a zillion ingredients in between two pieces of bread and hopes for the best, except that someone is actually a maestro, an artist who knows how to combine ingredients into a perfect concoction. Full disclosure: I ate this at 6 p.m., and it was my first meal of the day. Had I eaten breakfast and lunch, I am not sure I could have finished the whole thing, or half of it. It is gargantuan. There are three proteins, cheese, two sauces, and chips (the crunch is the cherry on top), all on a pillowy-soft toasted baguette. I can’t recommend it enough; this sandwich has the power to cure hangovers, and fill bellies. It sinks straight to the bottom of your stomach and stays there. The chefs also know exactly what kind of sandwich they have created. They don’t try to make all the ingredients fit between the bread. They know that if you are going to order the Mississippi Night Club, you are okay wearing parts of it on your shirt as you leave the restaurant. With each bite, lettuce and potato chips cascaded onto the paper wrapper below. It doesn’t matter when there is that much sandwich packed into one singular sandwich. Can’t recommend it enough — there is a reason this is the first thing on the menu. No need to look further to read more, just chow down. 

— Avi Holzman, Managing News Editor

Mushroom Mississippi Nights 

If you’re a vegetarian at Gramophone and groaning over the mostly-meat menu, fear not: any sandwich can be made vegetarian by swapping meat with mushrooms. Despite this, however, I find the already-intended-to-be-vegetarian sandwiches to be the best. Mushroom Mississippi Nights is a whopper (Impossible Whopper, of course) of a sammy, about six inches long and three inches thick — an impeccable sandwich ratio. It’s delightfully moist (mushrooms, tomato), gives a satisfying crunch (Billy Goat Kicker Chips, onion, cucumber, lettuce), and has a nice little spice to it (Billy Goat Kicker Chips again, spicy red pepper spread, pepper mayo). If you’re tempted to order a full sandwich, good luck. By the time you make your way through the first half, you’re likely to be covered in mayo, potato-chip crumbs, and mushrooms and already decently full. Add in a glass of cider, which comes in a brimming 16-ounce glass (only if you’re 21+, of course), and you have a meal. 

— Via Poolos, Editor-in-Chief

Enzo Gorlomi

This sandwich pays homage to Lt. Aldo Raine’s Italian alter ego in more ways than one. A take on the classic Italian sub, the Enzo Gorlomi comes with a smattering of different cold cuts, provolone cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, giardiniera, Italian vinaigrette, and — perhaps most importantly — pepper mayo. While many true Italian sandwiches stick to oil and vinegar, just like the “Inglourious Basterds” character Enzo Gorlomi, something makes this one so wonderfully different from other Italians. The creamy finish balances out the saltiness and acidity from the meat and vegetables, while a tasty sesame baguette provides the finishing touch. The sandwich will leave you satiated but, unlike some others on the menu, not sickly full. Whether you stop by for dinner, a late-night munchies run, or you are an inglorious basterd, the Enzo Gorlomi would impress Italian grandmothers and stoned seniors alike. 

— Jared Adelman, Multimedia Editor 

Steak Out 

Much like any self-respecting journalist who was born a few years too late to officially grow up in the early 2000s, there’s no show I love more than “Veronica Mars,” a teen drama that follows a feisty and tenacious high-schooler who moonlights as a private investigator, spying on philandering spouses and would-be murders. All of this to say, I felt like it was fate when I picked up a Gramophone menu and ordered “The Steak Out.” This sandwich is a modern twist on a classic concept, featuring medium-rare flank steak, bacon, mozzarella, spinach, tomato, red onion, jalapeno, and pepper mayo, all on a ciabatta roll. This is truly what I expect to be handed to me when I order a sandwich — each ingredient pulling its own weight, yet melding so perfectly that they’re indistinguishable as a whole. And, much like my beloved Veronica, it’s perfectly salty and has enough of a kick to it to keep life exciting. 

— Aliana Mediratta, Junior News Editor 

Chicka Chicka Parm Parm

Chicken parm is the bread and butter of the sandwich rotation. If the chicken parm sandwich was a pitcher, it would be the innings-eater reliever who can throw 50 pitches two days in a row.  If the chicken parm sandwich was a soccer player, it would be the midfield stalwart who could dart up the open space on the right wing to score, given the right opportunity. If the chicken parm was a tennis player…you get the point. The Gramophone Chicka Chicka Parm Parm sandwich is a stellar combination of thin-chopped shredded chicken, cheese, thick bacon, and marinara sauce. This sandwich is not a light effort — the combination of chicken and bacon means that the full sandwich is a hefty challenge. Also, make sure to have napkins handy, because the Big Willie’s marinara might get everywhere, along with the bacon grease and butter leaking out of the delicious garlic-buttered baguette.  

— Clara Richards, Editor-in-Chief 

Crustacean Nation

Oh boy! Mmm! Weee! Yippee! Get ready for some Martha’s Vineyard in your mouth. Imagine Cape Cod vomiting into your stomach (positive). That’s what this sandwich is. In the most delightful way possible. Crustacean Nation plops an ocean and a garden into your mouth: shrimp, salt-and-vinegar chips, Old Bay aioli, avocado spread, lettuce, and tomato on a delicious toasted hoagie. We want to live in a world where salt-and-vinegar chips come from a garden. Let us be. Picture yourself sitting in a lighthouse on a stormy beach while you eat it with salty water blowing through your hair. This sandwich was apparently once a weekly special at Gramophone, but due to popular demand (and inverse popular demand of shrimp) the sandwich is now a regular on the menu. If you want to be ridiculed by your friends for ordering a sandwich with shellfish in the Midwest, this is your best chance to do it. And no. We don’t want to know where the shrimp or crab is from. Anchors away. 

— Julia Robbins and Lily Taylor, News Editors 

General Patton

How does this sandwich relate to General George S. Patton? I’m not exactly sure. But honestly, I don’t care, because it’s just a delightful sandwich. A relatively traditional take on the classic chicken bacon ranch, Gramophone doesn’t try too hard and still succeeds. The hint of cajun seasoning in the buttermilk ranch adds a bit of spice to what can otherwise (sorry Subway) be a pretty boring bite. What makes this sandwich stand out, like many at Gramophone, is the quality of the meats. The bacon is cooked to perfection, and the proportions ensure that it neither overpowers nor is overpowered by the chicken. The buttery sourdough melts in your mouth and leaves you wanting more. Even though I showed up at Gramophone without much of an appetite after a large lunch, I somehow found myself craving a second half of the General Patton even more than when I had walked in. You’ll struggle to find a better chicken bacon ranch in St. Louis.

— Justin Lewitus, Contributing Writer