Humble yet kingly, the sandwich is as elemental a food as there is. When you’re hungry—stomach sucking on your ribs, lightheaded as a Housewife of Orange County, cranky-as-a-stuck-pig hungry—only a sandwich will do. And so I present this: an opinioned, abridged, incomplete list of 10 (OK, nine) of the best in town. The 10th sandwich is an elusive beast. The first five, that was easy enough. Nine was a challenge, but surmountable. But that 10th great sandwich—how do you choose? I scratched and I dug, crumbs slipped through my fingers and I often wanted to just get on my knees and cry. In other words, I ate a lot of sandwiches. And I think I’ve finally determined what the 10th sandwich is. Now, aren’t you getting hungry?

1. Bacon, Egg and Harissa, 112 Eatery
There are still people who insist on touting the Jucy Lucy as Minnesota’s own sandwich, as the cheesesteak is to Philly. For my money—specifically, for my measly seven bucks—I’d rather tuck into the bacon, egg and harissa sandwich at 112 Eatery. It has all the precise balance a sandwich ought: the heft of meat, richness of egg, heat of hot pepper, crunch of toast and nothing more to fuss it up. It’s a sandwich for any moment of any day, and also a sandwich for the ages. [112 N. 3rd St., Mpls.; 612.343.7696]

2. Croque Madame, Vincent A Restaurant
If I told you there were hardly words to describe the precision of this sandwich, you might accuse me of shirking my responsibilities. But it is hard. When you’ve got a mouthful of sweet ham and mornay sauce (think béchamel with more and then more cheese tossed in) toasted bread (darkened on one side only) and yet more melted cheese atop a perfectly fried egg … well, why even try to speak? If there’s one sandwich I’d recommend you eat in perfect solitude, just you and the sandwich, this is it. [1100 Nicollet Mall, Mpls.; 612.630.1189]

3. Friday Chicken Gyros, Holy Land
If there’s a sandwich worth driving across town for, worth standing in line for, worth ruining your best shirt (think globs of sauce dripping on you while you’re stuck in traffic), it is the chicken gyro at Holy Land. Whole chicken (not that pressed stuff that comes on a cone) is griddled beneath an iron on the grill, then tossed in a tandoor-yogurt sauce so rich and fragrant you’ll want to eat it with a spoon. And then—trust me on this one—choose tahini and lavash for your accompaniments (you’ll have a choice of other sauces and other breads, but I’m ordering for you today). Available on Friday and Saturday only; arrive before 1 p.m. if you want one. [2513 Central Ave. N.E., Mpls; 612.781.2627]

4. Lamb and Bacon BLT, Saffron
The BLT at Saffron is a perfect example of the ingenuity of this Middle Eastern kitchen. Is chef Sameh Wadi going to go through life without a BLT, just because his diet is pork-free halal? Hell no. The “B” is house-cured lamb bacon; “L” is haughty arugula rather than its dull cousin iceberg; and “T” is sweet tomato jam, standing in for insipid winter tomatoes. Also: Forget mayo. Vanilla egg bread is smeared with lamb fat before grilling. How sexy is that? [123 N. 3rd St., Mpls.; 612.746.5533]

5. Philly Cheesesteak, Golooney’s East Coast Pizza
Ah, Golooney’s. Sweet, goofy, confusing Golooney’s. It’s the slacker little brother of pizza cafés, and while you might love to hate it, the love always tips the balance. The pie is good, but when you want something even more gut-busting, look no further than the solid Philly cheesesteak. I’m not concerned with authenticity here, only flavor, and this cheesesteak has it in truckloads. Layers and layers of beef topped with a swipe of white cheesy goo—for only goo will do—and then tangy banana peppers and hot pepper relish. [2329 Hennepin Ave., Mpls.; 612.377.8555]