Jeff Daniels’ Favorite Sandwich Is Insane And Very Delicious, I Tried It And Improved It

By Robert Scucci
| Published 1 hour ago

Back in February, Jeff Daniels (best known for Dumb and Dumber and The Newsroom) revealed what he believes to be the best sandwich during an appearance on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. During the infamous “Colbert Questionert,” Daniels laid it all out to a shocked audience after letting out a long sigh and starting with, “I’m going to go with a personal favorite.”

He then went into great detail describing the sandwich, which consists of pita bread, creamy peanut butter, cheddar sour cream Ruffles, and “your favorite barbecue sauce.” Daniels said his favorite is “Sweet Baby James,” but no such brand exists, so it’s safe to assume he meant Sweet Baby Ray’s and misspoke in the heat of the moment.

He was exacting in his instructions, explaining how only half of the pita bread gets covered with a quarter inch of creamy peanut butter, which is then topped with crushed chips. The next step is to slather the whole thing with sauce, fold it over, and go to work. Every food blogger I follow has tried the “viral sandwich,” and I usually avoid these trends because I have better things to do with my time.

Something about this mix of sweet and savory got my attention, though, so I had to make one myself and see what all the fuss was about. I also took a page from the Sandwiches of History playbook, hosted by the legendary Barry Enderwick, who reviews recipes as written but also likes to “plus them up” with extra ingredients to see if they can be improved.

So without further ado, here’s my review of the Jeff Daniels Sandwich, along with some late-night, cabinet-raiding culinary insanity.

The Jeff Daniels Sandwich

My first thought about the Jeff Daniels Sandwich is that he picked very distinct flavor profiles that could go one of two ways. Either it works perfectly, or it falls apart completely. Following his instructions, I grabbed pita bread, Ruffles, Sweet Baby Ray’s, and used the 64-ounce jar of creamy peanut butter already in my house because my kids are goblins and go through alarming amounts of it. I prefer chunky, but that’s beside the point.

While I’m not exactly a fitness guru, I do track my activity with a FitBit and try to hit around 20,000 steps and 5,000 calories burned a day. I also eat once a day because it makes tracking macros easier. Intermittent fasting keeps things simple, especially when I get reckless with late-night snacking, something I do often. 

This works out nicely, because a six-inch pita, roughly three tablespoons of peanut butter, 11 cheddar and sour cream Ruffles (what they consider to be a single serving size), and two tablespoons of Sweet Baby Ray’s comes out to about 650 calories. I didn’t use a food scale, so your results may vary. For context, the Jeff Daniels Sandwich I made has roughly the same caloric content as 2.7 glazed doughnuts from Dunkin’.

It also clocks in at about 18.5 grams of protein, 73.5 grams of carbs, and five grams of dietary fiber.

As for the taste, I don’t know any other way to say it. Jeff Daniels knows what he’s doing. I have no insight into his personal life, but I imagine this sandwich came together under very specific circumstances. He name-drops Ruffles and specifies cheddar and sour cream. He calls out creamy peanut butter and Sweet Baby Ray’s as favorites. Given how messy this thing is, pita bread feels less like a preference and more like the only logical thing holding it together.

That said, this doesn’t feel like a desperation snack. Jeff Daniels is a successful actor. His pantry is probably well-stocked. The enthusiasm he shows when describing it tells me the first time he made this, he was either half asleep or operating under the influence of some late-night cravings that can only be achieved under a specific set of extra-curricular activities. I’m not saying anything definitive, but it takes one to know one.

Jeff Daniels Sandwich SCORE

The flavors are sharp, distinct, and constantly competing. My tastebuds were in shock at first. The crunch of the chips against the creamy peanut butter makes your jaw work. Then the cheddar and sour cream hits. Then the barbecue sauce takes over. Then you’re back to peanut butter. As you keep going, everything starts to come together, and suddenly it clicks. It’s an elite combination of sweet, savory, and texture. It checks every box.

I Had To “Plus It Up”

As a fan of Sandwiches of History (I trust Barry Enderwick with my life), I had to plus up the Jeff Daniels Sandwich, and I put some real thought into it. The original is built on bold, accessible flavors, so I stuck to ingredients you’d realistically have on hand. I added mini pepperonis, chopped green onions, dill pickle, and hot honey, because that’s what I had lying around.

I also buttered and grilled the pita before assembling everything to give it a crispy, warm exterior.

I’ve been a musician most of my life, but this might be the first time I’ve legitimately felt like an artist. The original Jeff Daniels Sandwich is solid. I had it after my daily run as a recovery meal, but 650 calories wasn’t going to cut it. My version came in closer to 900, so between the two, I was covered, and slightly ashamed of myself. 

I’m not saying the Jeff Daniels Sandwich should be part of your daily routine. But the original version that blew up online is undeniably good. It’s filling, and it feels like you’ll need a nap when you finish it.

My variation of the Jeff Daniels Sandwich SCORE

My version, though, is one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in at least a year. Mixing hot honey with the Sweet Baby Ray’s adds a kick. The pepperoni and green onion sharpen the sweetness of the peanut butter. The pickle cuts through the blandness of the pita bread, and grilling the bread before assembly is a power move I’m still proud of.

I’ve got to hand it to you, Mr. Daniels. You created a monster, but I’ve seen the light. Thanks for sharing this and completely wrecking my diet for the next several days while I figure out what to do with the rest of this pita bread.