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Jimmy John's Sandwiches
Brand Certified

Jimmy John's

3.7
(124 reviews)
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Business Details

151 Saint Robert Blvd, Saint Robert, MO
65584, United States
(573) 586-4660
https://locations.jimmyjohns.com/mo/saintrobert/sandwiches-4313.html
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About

Sandwich Restaurant
Sandwiches made with hand-sliced meats, fresh veggies and bread that's never more than 4 hours old. Freaky Fast® makes it Freaky Fresh.® Order online for delivery or pick up.

Details

  • DeliveryAvailable
  • TakeoutAvailable
  • Accepts reservationsNot available
  • Requires reservationsNot available

Location

Jimmy John's
151 Saint Robert Blvd, Saint Robert, MO
65584, United States

Hours

Monday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Tuesday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Wednesday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Thursday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Friday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Saturday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM
Sunday10:00 AM - 9:00 PM

Menu

1 menu · 193 items

Explore offerings from Jimmy John's on 151 Saint Robert Blvd in Saint Robert, with popular $5.99 sandwich deal, what’s new, toasted sandwiches, and wraps available at this location.

Menu

193 items

Reviews

3.7
124 reviews
5 stars
65
4 stars
18
3 stars
4
2 stars
10
1 star
27
  • RK
    Ralph Kennedy
    Aug 6, 2026
    1.0
    The next business that will be closing. Terrible food.
  • AA
    ALEN
    Jul 31, 2026
    5.0
    They always take care of me, I do a lot of online ordering. But they get it right everytime
  • AK
    Aiden (Eugene Krabs)
    Jul 20, 2026
    1.0
    I would like to preface this review with the fact that I am a long time and firm standing Jimmy John’s fan. I am a frequent patron of this establishment, and the food brings me immense satisfaction. However, what I have experienced today has implemented a rift in my view of this chain. My perspective has been shifted, my disposition shattered, and my certainty of recovering my view is tenuous. I arrived at Jimmy John’s near early afternoon. The sun was beaming overhead as I entered the restaurant. No sooner than I entered did I witness what would be a harbinger of my fate. The line was moving slowly, which I surmised was simply due to a rush in demand. However, the blockade in service was so obvious he might as well have been dawned with an iridescent sign shouting, “I’m the problem!”: the cashier. After what seemed like an eternity, the individuals in front of me concluded the ordering process, or should I say concluded the conduction of the ordering process, as the cashier’s assistance was abysmal. I sauntered over to the counter, anticipating what would simply be a lethargic ordering experience. The cashier welcomed us, still caught on the remnants of the previous customers’ order; what those were, I have no semblance of an idea. The individual accompanying me began their order: a Beach Club on sliced wheat, chips, and a drink. The cashier, after some trepidation, laboriously added these items onto the order. Whilst doing so, he burdened his coworkers with a bombardment of questions and concerns on how to operate the tablet; he, a minnow in a vast sea of uncertainty and deliberation. Eventually, he finished the addition of the aforementioned Beach Club, and inquired as to what I would like. I stated, “A Turkey Tom, no lettuce, add cheese. I would also like a drink and chips, please,” as I placed the chips and medium drink on the counter, certain this would be the end of this experience. I was mistaken. He replied, “Okay… you said no lettuce, no cheese?” I repeated, “No, I would like no lettuce, add cheese.” The look manifesting upon his face told me that this direction would incentivise not clarification, but somehow more questions. “Okay… so what size drink?” he inquired, the medium drink on the counter directly encompassing his peripheral vision. I clarified, “A medium drink," my repitition cumbersome. He continued the chess match on the ordering tablet, seeming that this order would continue in perpetuity. The clock began to tick, tick, tick, as time crept past. Finally, he was finished with the order. I and the other individual hastily grab our items and rush to the beverage station, our minds scattered and disheveled with the incident we had just experienced. After a millionth of the time it took to order, our sandwiches were ready, and so were we. I was completely convinced that the horror was over. That was foolish. It had just begun. The journey back to my abode was quick and devoid of obstruction, filled with thoughts of the perfect sandwich I was preparing to consume. As I arrived, I rushed out of the vehicle, grabbed the bag, and climbed the stairs hurriedly. I dumped the contents of my order onto a plate, and unwrapped the sandwich with surgical precision, so as to not harm the baguette. However, as I viewed my sandwich, I was filled with not whimsy, not glee, not serendipity, but despair. The sandwich was wrong, imperfect, mistaken, carelessly prepared. It had lettuce. My mind raced as I searched vehemently through my memory for a reason as to why this could have happened, but I knew it all too well: the cashier. It was his fault. After a plethora of clarification, meticulous effort produced to ensure the greatest of quality, it was all for nothing. I was exasperated at the egregious performance and soulless preparation of this sandwich as I scraped off the lettuce, enraged. To add to this, the beach club was not even sliced! I pictured the cashier, fumbling with the tablet, oblivious to the damage he had done to this good restaurant’s name.
  • YY
    YAKNOW!
    Jul 14, 2026
    1.0
    I ordered a simple meal, but my sandwich was toasted without anyone asking if I wanted it that way. I specifically didn't want it toasted. I also had to go back because my soda was forgotten. It wasn't a huge order, so I was disappointed that these basic details were missed.
  • SP
    Stephanie Pizzella
    Jul 2, 2026
    2.0
    No changing station in bathrooms. Sandwiches are skimpy. Almost no toppings.
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