The Ultimate Reuben Sandwich Guide: History, Variations, Pairings, and DIY Mastery

A traditional Reuben stacks four pillars: thinly sliced corned beef, Swiss cheese, tangy sauerkraut, and Russian or Thousand Island dressing, all sandwiched between two slices of rye that have been butter‑grilled to a crisp golden finish. The rye’s slight bitterness counters the richness of the meat and cheese, while the dressing adds a sweet‑savory bridge that ties everything together. When each layer is balanced—no one ingredient overwhelms—the sandwich achieves its signature harmony.

Think of it like a well‑orchestrated band: the corned beef provides the bass line, Swiss the melody, sauerkraut the rhythm, and the dressing the harmonies. Remove or overplay any part and the song falls flat.

Plant‑based diners aren’t left out. For a vegetarian spin, swap corned beef with smoked tempeh, marinated seitan, or even thick slices of roasted portobello that mimic the salty depth. Vegan cheese—preferably a meltable cheddar‑style—replaces Swiss, while a homemade cashew‑based Thousand Island or a store‑bought vegan Russian dressing supplies the creamy tang. The sauerkraut stays the same, but you can boost its bite with a splash of apple cider vinegar.

A popular hack uses jackfruit simmered in a broth of soy sauce, beet juice, and spices to imitate the texture of shredded beef. The result is a sandwich that satisfies the umami craving without any animal products, proving that the Reuben’s core concept—savory, sour, and creamy—transcends meat.

The first legend credits a 1925 Omaha hotel bartender named Reuben Kulakofsky, who allegedly concoced the sandwich for a poker night. The story goes that the winning hand’s winnings funded the first menu entry at the Blackstone Hotel’s lounge, and the recipe spread via word of mouth. The second, more widely accepted tale places the sandwich in 1934 at New York’s famed Delmonico’s, where a Lithuanian‑Jewish deli owner, Arnold Reuben, served the creation to a hungry Broadway producer.

Both accounts share common threads—Rye, corned beef, and a creamy dressing—suggesting the sandwich evolved in the early 20th‑century American deli scene, where Eastern European immigrants experimented with available meats and pickles. The exact origin may never be settled, but the lore adds a layer of cultural intrigue that enhances the eating experience.

While traditional rye remains the gold standard, not all rye is created equal. Look for caraway‑seeded, dark rye with a firm crumb; its slight bitterness cuts through the richness. If you prefer a softer bite, a light rye or pumpernickel can work, but you must butter both sides generously to achieve that signature crunch. For gluten‑free enthusiasts, a sturdy sourdough‑style rice flour loaf, toasted and brushed with olive oil, mimics the texture without sacrificing flavor.

The key is a bread that can hold the moisture of sauerkraut and dressing without sogging. A quick test: press a slice of bread with a finger—if it springs back, it will likely survive the grill.

A Reuben pairs naturally with crisp, acidic companions that cut through its richness. Classic coleslaw, dressed in a light vinaigrette, offers crunch and a citrus note. German potato salad—warm, bacon‑infused, and tossed with apple cider—mirrors the sandwich’s savory profile while adding heartiness. For a lighter option, a simple arugula salad with shaved Parmesan and lemon zest brightens the palate.

Don’t overlook pickles: a handful of dill spears or pickled beets introduces an extra tang that echoes the sauerkraut’s acidity, creating a layered flavor journey.

Traditionalists reach for a cold lager or a crisp pilsner; the carbonation lifts the fattiness and the malt notes complement the beef. If you lean toward wine, a dry Riesling or a light Pinot Noir works—both have enough acidity to balance the sandwich without overwhelming it. For non‑alcoholic options, try a sparkling ginger ale with a splash of lime; the ginger’s spice mirrors the sauerkraut’s bite, while the fizz cleanses the palate.

Experiment with a cold-brew coffee iced with a dash of orange bitters for a brunch‑friendly twist—the bitterness of coffee aligns with the rye’s earthiness, and the orange adds a subtle citrus lift.

The Reuben’s structure invites creativity. Swap Swiss for Gruyère for a nuttier melt, or add a thin layer of caramelized onions for sweetness. Incorporate sliced pickled jalapeños for heat, or drizzle a spoonful of horseradish mayo for an extra kick. For a surf‑and‑turf version, place a few strips of smoked salmon between the corned beef and cheese—an unexpected umami punch.

Even the dressing can be tweaked: blend mayo, ketchup, and a dash of hot sauce for a spicier Russian, or use a mustard‑based vinaigrette for a tangier profile. Each adjustment creates a distinct personality while preserving the sandwich’s core identity.

Most American delis, from neighborhood sandwich shops to upscale gastropubs, list a Reuben on their menu, though the exact preparation can vary. In the Midwest, you’ll find the classic rye version; on the West Coast, many places offer a turkey or pastrami Reuben to cater to lighter tastes. Internationally, the sandwich appears in gourmet cafés that reinterpret it with local breads—think ciabatta in Italy or naan in India.

If you’re traveling, a quick scan of the menu for “corned beef, sauerkraut, and melted cheese on rye” will usually reveal a Reuben, even if it’s labeled differently, such as a “New York Melt” or “Deli Stack.”

1. Prep the sauerkraut: Rinse, drain, then sauté in butter with a pinch of sugar and a splash of apple cider vinegar until lightly caramelized—about 5 minutes. This step reduces excess moisture and adds a sweet‑sour depth.

2. Warm the corned beef: Slice thinly and sear quickly in a hot pan with a drizzle of oil; you want a thin crust, not a full fry.

3. Assemble the sandwich: Butter one side of each rye slice, then layer cheese, beef, sauerkraut, and a generous spoonful of Russian dressing. Top with the second slice, buttered side out.

4. Grill: Heat a cast‑iron skillet over medium‑high heat. Place the sandwich, press with a heavy spatula or a grill press, and cook 3‑4 minutes per side until the bread is deep golden and the cheese bubbles.

5. Rest and slice: Let the sandwich sit for a minute before cutting diagonally—this allows the cheese to set slightly, preventing a messy bite.

Tips: Use a mix of sharp and mild Swiss for layered flavor, and keep a lid on the pan for the first minute to trap steam, ensuring the cheese melts evenly.

The Reuben’s template is a playground for chefs. A Korean‑inspired version replaces corned beef with bulgogi, adds kimchi in place of sauerkraut, and uses mozzarella with gochujang‑infused mayo. A breakfast Reuben swaps the meat for scrambled eggs and adds avocado slices, while a Southern twist uses smoked brisket, cheddar, and a mustard‑based BBQ sauce.

For a sweet‑savory hybrid, try a “Reuben Grilled Cheese” that layers apple slices, brie, and a thin smear of sauerkraut‑infused honey mustard on sourdough. Each reinterpretation respects the original’s balance of salty, sour, and creamy, proving the sandwich’s versatility across cuisines.

In Israel, you’ll find a “Reuben‑style” sandwich on challah, featuring pastrami and a tahini‑based dressing that nods to local flavors. In Japan, a sushi‑roll version wraps seasoned rice, pickled daikon, and smoked tofu in nori, topped with a drizzle of soy‑ginger sauce—essentially a Reuben maki. In the American South, the “Reuben Po’ Boy” swaps rye for French bread and adds a slice of fried green tomato for crunch.

These adaptations illustrate how the sandwich’s core concept—protein, cheese, acidic pickle, creamy sauce on toasted bread—translates across culinary traditions while absorbing local ingredients.