The Club Sandwich on a Lebanese café menu is the familiar triple-decker, and the angle here is adaptation by small substitution: the architecture is imported wholesale, but the bread, the sauce, and the side it arrives with are quietly local. It is a hotel and café standard across Lebanon, the safe order on a mixed menu, and it works or fails on the same things it does anywhere, namely whether the toast is crisp and the layers are stacked with enough contrast to survive being cut into quarters.
The build follows the standard logic. Three slices of toasted bread, two fillings, held with picks and cut on the diagonal into four triangles. The protein is usually chicken, grilled or roasted and sliced, sometimes with a layer of turkey or ham where the kitchen offers it, plus crisp lettuce, tomato, and often a fried egg, which is a common addition in this region rather than an oddity. The sauce is where the local hand shows: many Lebanese versions spread toum or a garlic-spiked mayonnaise instead of plain mayo, and the plate almost always comes banked with French fries and a few pickled cucumbers rather than a pickle spear and chips. Coleslaw appears on the side as often as not. Good execution toasts each slice so the structure holds, keeps the chicken moist, and uses enough sauce to bind without turning the middle slice to paste. Sloppy execution under-toasts the bread so the whole stack collapses, overcooks the chicken into dry shreds, or stacks the layers so thin that four bites in it has become dry toast.
It varies mostly by protein and by how far the kitchen leans into the Lebanese pantry. The plainest version is a chicken club with mayo, indistinguishable from any airport café. The more localized version swaps in garlic sauce, adds the fried egg as standard, tucks fries between the layers, and serves it with pickled turnips on the side, at which point it sits comfortably next to the shawarma and the escalope sandwich on the same menu. A grilled chicken variant leans lighter; a fried-cutlet variant blurs toward the escalope sandwich. What stays fixed is the form: a toasted triple-decker, a poultry-led filling, lettuce and tomato, cut into quarters, with the sauce and the fries marking it as a Lebanese café plate rather than a foreign one.