Yummy ๐ Veal Sandwiches
The Great Ontario Veal Sandwich Quest: A Tale of Saucy Triumph and Stretchy Pants.

Alright, gather 'round, carb-loving compatriots and fellow aficionados of deliciousness. Today, we're embarking on a journey, a pilgrimage, if you will, to the holiest of holies in the Ontario food scene: the Italian veal sandwich. Forget your fancy Michelin stars, your artisanal charcuterie boards โ in this province, the true measure of a man (or woman, or anyone with taste buds) is how well they navigate a perfectly breaded, sauced, and piled-high veal cutlet nestled in a glorious bun.
Now, before we dive into the juicy (and sometimes messy) details, let's establish some ground rules. This isn't just about a sandwich; it's about an experience. It's about the anticipation as you wait in line, the almost religious reverence with which the sandwich artist (because that's what they are) constructs your masterpiece, and the inevitable moment where you realize your eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach, but you're going to power through anyway.
Ontario, bless its heart, has some serious contenders in the Veal Sandwich Olympics. We're talking about places that have been perfecting their craft for decades, where nonnas whisper secret sauce recipes and the veal is pounded thinner than your patience on a Monday morning.
Let's talk about the reigning champions, the places consistently making waves in the "Ontario's Best Veal Sandwich" competitions. Yes, such a thing exists, and yes, it's taken very seriously. We've seen titans battle it out โ places like Mettawas Station in Kingsville (apparently they've won multiple times, those overachievers!), Nostra Cucina in Kitchener (a "hidden gem" that's clearly not that hidden if they keep making the top 10), and even Nonna's Cucina in Innisfil (where a Food Network host supposedly kissed the sandwich. I mean, if that's not a testimonial, I don't know what is!).
These establishments aren't just slinging meat on a bun; they're crafting culinary legends. You hear whispers of "house-made tomato sauce cooked for hours and hours," veal that's "tender as a lullaby," and buns so fresh they practically sing opera. And let's not forget the toppings โ the sautรฉed onions, the roasted red peppers, the spicy options that make you question your life choices but then immediately regret that thought because mmmm, jalapeรฑos.
Then there's the OG of the Toronto scene, California Sandwiches. This place is like the Mount Rushmore of veal sandwiches. You go there, you know what you're getting: a massive, often unwieldy, but always satisfying behemoth of a sandwich. Some swear by it, others whisper about its portions being designed for a small army, but everyone agrees it's an institution. And let's be real, you will get sauce on your shirt. It's not a bug, it's a feature. Consider it a badge of honour, a tangible reminder of the delicious battle you just waged.
So, what makes these places the best? Is it the secret family recipe passed down through generations? Is it the perfect balance of crisp breading and juicy veal? Or is it simply the sheer volume of love (and sometimes a little bit of garlic breath) that goes into each creation?
Whatever the secret, one thing is clear: Ontario takes its veal sandwiches seriously. Very seriously. We're talking about people who will drive an hour, brave rush hour traffic, and stand in line in the pouring rain, all for that perfect bite. And honestly? I get it. Because in a world of kale salads and gluten-free fads, sometimes you just need a big, messy, gloriously Italian veal sandwich to remind you that life is, indeed, delicious.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I suddenly have an insatiable craving and a distinct feeling my stretchy pants are calling my name. The quest continues!