Prepare to wait, but the 11 panini staples are worth it at this tiny sandwich shop

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There is something hypnotic about watching made-to-order sandwich shops in action. Bread laid out. Spreads swooshed on. Ingredients chopped, sliced and layered with alacrity, then everything cut, wrapped and handed over like a ham, cheese and chutney Christmas present.

Such sandwich mastery emanates from Luigi Panini, a tiny seven-week-old panini cafe in Surry Hills run by three Italian-born cousins, Alessandro Ranieri, Luigi Ranieri and Alessandro Riillo, who hail from Naples and Calabria.

Reminiscent of tiny panini shops the cousins frequented growing up, the shop is named after their grandfather, a butcher in Naples. (It also nods to the Southern Hemisphere’s habit of saying panini, instead of panino, to describe a single sandwich.)

On a warm Sunday arvo, between whitewashed walls, tiled archways and small tables inside and out, the sounds of Neapolitan singing legend Renato Carosone, crooning Mambo Italiano, fill the air from a speaker.

The footpath is packed outside as a bevy of customers wait for the hands of Luigi and “the other Alessandro” (as Alessandro Ranieri calls his cousin) to layer wide slices of mortadella, bresaola, prosciutto cotto and porchetta onto flour-dusted ciabatta loaves. The meats are teamed with Italian and Australian cheeses, grilled vegetables, olives and house-made pesto.

Slicing the just-heated ciabatta open, steam rises from inside. Kitchen conversation mixes Italian, Neapolitan and English as the slicing machine cuts eight kinds of salumi. Luigi’s partner, Martina, proffers tastings of bread and ultra-creamy stracciatella for those waiting outside.

Each panino uses ciabatta – beautifully crusty, chewy and light and made to a specific recipe by a bakery Ranieri prefers to keep secret. There are secrets to their Nonna Carmela’s garlicky pork and veal meatball recipe too – available in the lush wonder of the Nonna’s polpette panino with basil, provolone, Napoli sauce and parmigiano. It’s also noteworthy that Luigi’s walnut and pistachio pestos are not bulked with other kinds of nuts.

“Quality is our focus,” Ranieri says, “Because we don’t want to compromise on anything.”

This means, at popular times, there may be a wait (40 minutes in our case) but it’s worth it. You can’t go wrong with any of the 11 panini staples, but my pick is the Sicilia – rich but delicate mortadella (from award-winning Giuseppe’s Gourmet Meats in Waverton) between the stracciatella and the pistachio pesto.

Another sandwich highlight is the Firenze, layered with soft dark red bresaola, ricotta, balsamic glaze and softly crunchy walnut pesto. On a hot day, Ranieri suggests the “refreshing” Amalfi – tuna fillet, lemon juice, capers and tomato – paired with an Italian soft drink such as chinotto. There’s also tiramisu, but it usually sells out by lunchtime.

“There is a word in Italian that we can’t quite translate in English,” Ranieri says. “Simpatico. We really want to be simpatico to people – friendly and nice, in harmony. Because after many years working for other people, we finally have our own shop. And we’re just very happy.”

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.