20 Under-The-Radar Dishes That Define American Cuisine

Before we dig in, let's do just a little bit of math on this. For some reason, we tasked ourselves with considering nearly 335,000,000 people, with dozens of different cultural backgrounds, who enjoy a wide variety of cuisines, which also vary by state, and regional preferences within those states. What are we doing trying to define American cuisine? It could literally be anything to anyone at any time.

Still, if there's cheese on it, we're down for a challenge. We're also here to celebrate the food of this country as it is — a representation of centuries of global influence, brought to life by generations of ancestors, born of cherished traditions, challenging times, and brilliant innovation. And, all of that heritage is then shared through the simplest gesture of cooking a meal. On the flip side, we have deep-fried Twinkies. But hey, it's America. We love food and we're all about having some fun with it. From cheese grits to meatloaf, this is as American as...eh, you decide.

We honor the misunderstood genius who invented a way to eat one food from the inside of a completely different food, thereby transforming the way we enjoy soup forever. The actual origins of the bread bowl remain unclear, but it's possible that a man in the Irish noble classes created a bowl made of bread and filled it with chowder, in order to make a good impression on a British royal in 1427. Apparently, even royals are easily wooed by carbs.

The sourdough trend hit the U.S. during the Gold Rush. But Boudin Bakery in San Francisco, California — a.k.a., "The king of San Francisco bread bowls," according to CBS News — popularized the hollowed-out loaf loaded with creamy goodness. They've been operating since 1849. Hit up the flagship operation at Fisherman's Wharf to taste the original.

Sourdough boasts a tangy flavor and a chewy texture, making it the perfect vessel. Inside, you'll find clam chowder, stews, chilis, and other hearty soups. The bread bowl soaks up the flavors as you enjoy your meal. And you can finish it all off by tearing up the rest of the bread and promptly leaving zero traces of your meal. Quick question though — what do they do with the insides of the bowl, and where can we get our hands on this extra sourdough? Asking for a friend.

Charleston, South Carolina gets dibs on inventing this one, thanks to a story involving a Woolworth's department store eatery where a bowl of tuna salad allegedly fell onto a grill, atop a grilled cheese, and sparks flew (not literally). Props to whoever ate the grilled cheese with random tuna soldered onto it and discovered this match made in melty sammy heaven.

This pairing has gone global, but the American version of the tuna melt typically features a base salad composed of canned tuna and mayo, plus cheese, and bread. Get it grilled or toasted until the cheese is melted and bubbly — open-faced, or closed — and served straight up, or with a bowl of tomato soup for added bliss.

This diner and deli specialty appears just about everywhere in the U.S., but if you're looking for a classic, head to the tuna melt metropolis; S&P in New York City. The company took over the old Eisenberg's deli space in 2022, and left the tuna melt basically intact, with a mayo upgrade to the Duke's brand. Grab a seat and a basic tuna melt on rye, and bite into the comfort food of your dreams.

Welcome to the Deep-Fried States of America. From fried Coca-Cola to onion rings, and pickles to catfish, we like us a tender bite with a perfectly crispy crust, and 4,000 extra calories than the item originally had.

Deep-fried Twinkies, however, hold a special place in our little chugging hearts. Featuring a snack cake that was born in Illinois in the 1930s as "America's model junk food," the process involves coating a Twinkie in batter and then drowning it in the fryer until it gets golden and crispy on the outside, leaving the cake and filling inside to get all warm and gooey. Add a dusting of powdered sugar, and you've got a nostalgic treat from your nearest State Fair. Or go for the blue ribbon with your own setup at home.

Of course, good old American ingenuity doesn't allow the deep-fried Twinkie evolution to just end there. Since our acceptance of this food into the very fabric of our society, we've made a few improvements. Get sweet and savory with a bacon-wrapped deep-fried Twinkie, or make it a fruity combo with a fresh strawberry sauce topping. Alternatively, go luxuriously sweet and salty with a dollop of caviar, like they did at the O.C. Fair. Because, just like snowflakes, no deep-fried Twinkies are alike. 

It might not be possible to conjure up more typical American kid-vibes, than with a PB&J. All you need to create the American original peanut butter and jelly sandwich is your favorite peanut butter, your favorite jelly, and two slices of the most basic white bread you can get your hands on. No, no, no, no whole wheat — get outta here with your bougie carbs.

With this sandwich, we time travel back to Home Economics, 1901. That's when author Julia Chandler suggested it as a tasty combination in The Boston Cooking School Magazine of Culinary Science and Domestic Economics. She preferred a currant or crab-apple jelly. But, she was a genius before her time.

It took a few decades, but the PB&J began to hit its stride during WWII, with soldiers adding jelly to their peanut butter sandwiches to make them stick less to the roof of their mouths. However, Joseph Rosefield had already invented a non-stick-to-mouth hydrogenated version of the peanut butter in 1922, which he called Skippy. Maybe the soldiers preferred the all-natual brand. Once they returned home, PB&Js popped up in lunch boxes and college dorms across the nation. It's still a nostalgic favorite for adults ... just cut the crust off and we're good to go.

What's the easiest way to make a banana split? Slice it in half. (You're welcome.) While dads brought us that cool joke, David Evans Strickler, a soda jerk in Pennsylvania, created the banana split back in 1904. He just wanted to attract more customers to the soda fountain counter at Tassell Pharmacy. And, he low-key came up with one of the most iconic American dishes, ever. No big deal.

He cut a banana lengthwise and topped it with one scoop each of chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla ice cream, and added chocolate, pineapple, strawberry syrups, nuts, whipped cream, and a bright red cherry. (Hey, so, don't tell Wilmington, Delaware locals about this because they claim they invented the banana split in 1907 and we just want everyone to have fun.)

The old-fashioned feel just adds to the fun. Sample something close to the original at the old-school-styled Franklin Fountain in Old City, Philadelphia, where you can grab Dr. Dovey's Banana Split for a cool $20. This type of sundae cost just 10 cents back in 1904, but, hey, who's counting?

While both biscuits and different types of gravy can be traced back to very early America, the combo of the two is something different altogether. It may possibly date back to the Revolutionary War, but the current consensus points to the late 1800s in Southern Appalachia. It was a cheap way to get protein during the lean times after the war. Pork drippings equaled gravy, flour equaled biscuits, and biscuits softened up with gravy equaled a hearty meal for hard laborers. 

As it's recalled in The Southern Foodways Alliance Community Cookbook, "The Southern way with gravies was born of privation...And when folks are poor, folks make do. Which means folks make gravy," (via The Washington Post). These days, however, biscuits are much more soft and buttery, but the white "sawmill" gravy is very much like it was way back when. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Not just the name of the late singer of the 1993 hit, "I Would Do Anything For Love," meatloaf is also an undeniably quintessential American dish. So, have we then gained the rights to the meaty "loaf" shape? We can't really say, but we sure do know how to put ketchup on it.

Immigrants from Germany and Scandinavia brought their recipes and culinary techniques to the United States, where those traditions adapted and evolved over time. According to food historian Andrew Smith, back in the 1870s, the first ever meatloaf recipe called for chopping up and throwing in "whatever cold meat you have," (via Bon Appétit). This way home cooks could bulk up what little protein people typically had at home. And now, it's a delicious way to take a comforting trip back in time to easier days.

Of course, the classic American meatloaf has its standards: ground beef, breadcrumbs, onions, an egg, and seasonings. And, while it's fairly simple to put together yourself, we all know what this Redditor is talking about; "Bad meatloaf is a doorstop. Good meatloaf is heaven."

Of course this one's a part of the Girl Scout cookie dynasty. While the graham cracker and Hershey's brand chocolate bar dominated on their own, only an earnest former snack badge champion (we assume) troop leader, Loretta Scott Crew, could have invented something to actually satisfy a bunch of wild kids on a camping trip.

The first known recipe for a treat resembling S'mores appeared in a 1927 pamphlet called Tramping and Trailing with the Girl Scouts. Tired and hungry from all the tramping and trailing, the girls enjoyed "Some Mores" by placing a marshmallow and a piece of chocolate between two graham crackers, then warming it over a campfire until it was gooey and toasty. While we might have our own opinions on whether to toast the whole thing at once, or start with just the marshmallow, the classic S'more stacks up like this: ½ Honey Maid graham, 2 rectangles of a Hershey's chocolate bar, 1 Jet-Puffed marshmallow, ½ Honey Maid graham. Eat. Repeat.

S'mores frequently pop up on restaurant menus, tugging on your sentimental heartstrings. But the best S'more is the one you toast yourself. Mix up the cookies, swap out the chocolate, but never forget the mallow you bravely roasted by hand, which lit up like a flaming meteor, fell into the ash and embers of the fire, and was then smashed into a sandwich. If that doesn't taste like victory, nothing does.

Before you come for us with your fried chicken manifesto, let's take a minute to thank our ancestors for gifting us this holy grail of fried meats. Ancient Romans deep-fried their chickens. African cooking techniques and seasonings greatly influenced the flavors and preparation. And, Southern traditions launched the explosion of fried chicken as an archetype of American cuisine.

KFC also commercialized the dish — and those still-secret 11 herbs and spices — making it widely accessible across the country, starting in the 1930s. Fried chicken as a whole quickly fused with Southern culture, often popping up at social gatherings, picnics, and family reunions. It's affordable, simple, tender, and succulent, with a crispy crust that's perfectly seasoned and reminds you of the good old days.

Of course, we all have different ideas on the person who does it up best. Still, taking everyone's grandma out of the equation (love you, grandmas!), we have a few favorite styles: buttermilk country fried, Korean fried, Karaage or Japanese fried, Nashville hot ... just let us know if we should stop...smoked and fried, tandoori fried, Southern fried, ramen fried, beer fried ...

Whether you eat it fresh out of the oven, piled high with whipped cream, with a slice of cheddar, a scoop of vanilla, or drenched in cold milk, apple pie is as American as ... yep, apple pie.

European settlers first introduced apples to America. And then we immediately baked them into pies. At least, that's what we would have been doing. Soon, apple pie wove its way into American culture, consistently on trend as a traditional dessert for Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July, since forever. But, considering the wingspan of these United States, no less than one billion takes on this beloved classic have been eaten. Give or take a few.

Early branding of the apple pie sold us a fresh-baked representation of the American way of life. But it now takes on a new interpretation through our modern eyes. American Pie Council member John Lehndorff explained, "When you say that something is 'as American as apple pie,' what you're really saying is that the item came to this country from elsewhere and was transformed into a distinctly American experience," (via Food52). Hmm. Kind of sounds like all of us, right?