America’s Favorite Comfort Foods and Some Signature Places to Try Them

“As American as apple pie,” is the saying, even though Europeans and Asians had incorporated apples into their cooking centuries before any Americans did. But that didn’t stop the first American settlers in the 17th century from making it their own, using indigenous apples. Among many different versions, Michelin-award-winning Blue Duck Tavern, in Washington, DC, is known far and wide for its flaky, gooey apple pie. Be forewarned—it’s only available in autumn when the apples are ripe off the trees.

German immigrants brought potato salad to American soil, dressed with oil, vinegar, and herbs (a hot version added bacon and onions). But the true-blue picnic variety—the dreamy concoction of potatoes, eggs, pickles, and mayonnaise—didn’t come about until sometime after mayo arrived on the scene, in the early 20th century. Things haven’t changed much since then. Homemade is best, though Sleepy Hollow Delly in Springfield, Pennsylvania, has been making for more than fifty years what many claim to be the best potato salad ever, based on the current owner Erin Gruwell’s grandmother’s recipe.

Barbecue—slow-cooking with smoke, a tradition brought north from the West Indies by Spanish conquistadores—evolved in the USA as a plantation-feast food for enslaved Africans, who often were offered pigs at the end of the harvest season. This tradition spawned four different varieties: Carolina, Texas, Memphis, and Kansas City. Helen Turner, one of the South’s few female pit-masters, has been serving up ribs and other meaty delights at her unassuming, freestanding BBQ joint in Brownsville, Tennessee, since 1996. Order the sandwich with a side of slaw. You’ll see.

Whoever thought of putting a hot dog on a stick, smothering it in cornmeal, and frying it up? No one knows for sure, though one Stanley S. Jenkins filed a patent in 1927 for a stick-frying apparatus for frying “wieners.” One of the earliest joints claiming to be the modern corndog inventor (of which there are many) is Cozy Dog Drive-In, founded in 1946. The story goes that Ed Waldmire stumbled across a hot dog baked in cornbread in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and felt it took too long to prepare—so he and a pal got to work coming up with a more streamlined version, deep-fried on a stick. The Drive-In is still serving them up, though you won’t find any corndogs on the menu—they’re called cozy dogs here.

A root beer float evokes the pure essence of summer when it’s okay to call a refreshing drink dessert (because, really, that’s what it is). You can thank Frank Wisner, owner of Colorado’s Cripple Brewing, for coming up with this brilliant combo. In 1893 he was peering at Cow Mountain, noting how the snow-capped peaks resembled ice cream floating in soda. Eureka! The next day, he combined a scoop of vanilla ice cream with Myers Avenue Red root beer and called it a “Black Cow Mountain.” Of course, today it’s simply called a root beer float. Cripple Creek is long gone, but Gunther Toody’s, with restaurants, throughout Colorado, still makes them the good, old-fashioned way.

What is the Super Bowl without Buffalo wings? Thank goodness for Dominic Bellissimo’s mother, is all we have to say. One late evening in 1964, he was bartending at the family-owned Anchor Bar Restaurant when some hungry friends dropped by. So his mother deep-fried chicken wings that were lying about, flavored them with a bright-orange sauce—a fiercely guarded secret of melted butter, hot sauce, and red pepper—and served them with a side of blue cheese and celery. Buffalo wings took off in bars across the country, firmly planting themselves in the bar-food and sports-watching annals. You naturally should try them at the source, Buffalo’s Anchor Bar, which continues to serve up at least 2,000 wings a day. Enter through the original Main Street entrance to put you right at the bar where Teressa Bellissimo changed American food history; the medium wing is closest to that first recipe.

Cheesesteaks are just as iconic of Philadelphia as the Liberty Bell, both of which are national treasures. It all began in the 1930s when hot-dog-vendor Pat Olivieri folded some grilled “frizzled” beef and seasonings onto an Italian roll. A cabbie stopped by for a hot dog and, seeing the steak sandwich, asked for one of those instead. You know how cabbies are—word got out, and soon Olivieri abandoned his food cart for a brick-and-mortar: Pat’s King of Steaks. So what about the cheese? That came a little later when Pat’s manager added some Provolone—fine-tuned in 1952 when Cheez Whiz hit the market. Pat’s is the original place, but in 1966 Geno’s Steaks opened across the street, birthing a rivalry that continues to this day (some argue it was actually Geno who added the cheese). Both are open 24/7, lest the other take the advantage.

Even ancient Romans knew the glory of combining melted cheese and bread. Though the modern rendition didn’t come about until the early 1900s, in the days before refrigeration, when mobile-cheese-vendor James L. Kraft figured out how to process cheese so it wouldn’t spoil during his travels. Soon, “toasted cheese sandwiches” were everywhere, including aboard WW2 ships needing to feed hungry seamen. Today, grilled cheese is resurging with gourmet twists. Melt Bar & Grilled has taken it to a new level—“comfort food, all dressed up,” as their owner, Matt Fish, has said. The ever-evolving menu includes the likes of the Monte Cristo (with berry preserves for dipping); and Parmageddon (with pierogi and fresh Napa vodka kraut).

There’s nothing like a potful of chili to ward away the wintry chill, a spicy meat and onion stew that most likely derived in Texas. Long a food for the poor, it’s said that chili saved more people from starvation during the Great Depression than the Red Cross. Texan Lyndon B. Johnson brought it to the White House, though he stood firm in his belief that “chili concocted outside of Texas is usually a weak, apologetic imitation of the real thing.” Judge for yourself at Armadillo Palace in Houston, where the classic steaming bowl contains venison stewed in cumin-chili sauce, topped with the perfect amount of shredded cheese.

The first milkshakes contained alcohol, though by 1900 the drink became more wholesome, made with vanilla, strawberry, or vanilla syrups. The milkshake we know and love today came about with the invention of the electric blender, when in 1922 Walgreen’s employee Ivan “Pop” Coulson stumbled upon the concept. Milkshakes have become so firmly rooted in our national psyche that they get not one, but two, national holidays: June 20 is National Vanilla Milkshake Day, and September 12 is National Chocolate Milkshake Day. But, while classic vanilla and chocolate are great, the original form was even better, right? The menu at Ted’s Bulletin in Washington, DC, includes “adult milkshakes” (flavors include White Russian, Bananas Foster, and Irish Caramel Coffee). Now you’re talking.

Seems like everyone in the Western world claims to have invented mac ‘n’ cheese—British, Swiss, Canadians, and French among them. As for Americans, it’s known that Francophile Thomas Jefferson served a rendition of macaroni and cheese at an 1802 state dinner, so it probably came to the USA by way of France. The boxed version hit the market in 1937, providing a filling meal in the heart of the depression. These days, chefs are all about gourmet versions of this comfort food classic. Try Cochon Butcher, a wine bar/sandwich shop in New Orleans that adds cream cheese, sharp white cheddar, and tomato paste to its elbow mac.

The first biscuits, probably derived from Scottish shortbread in Colonial times, were tooth-cracking lumps of flour and water, served with a milk-based gravy to stretch meager amounts of meat. For Revolutionary War soldiers especially, this was about the best fortitude they could hope for, to get them through another day of battle. Southerners turned biscuits into the light-and-fluffy delicacy we crave upon the eventual addition of baking powder. Enter, one Colonel Sanders, who introduced them to the masses around the world. The best biscuits and gravy, however, remain connected to the South. For starters, try Early Girl Eatery, famed for farm-to-table everything, including the most heavenly biscuits and gravy around. Just be forewarned you’ll have to make a choice: thick-cut Benton’s bacon gravy, or vegetarian (don’t think too hard).

The origins of this gooey campfire treat—a toasted marshmallow and chocolate bar squished between graham crackers—is hazy, though the Girl Scouts and/or Campfire Girls seem to have had something to do with it, which makes perfect sense. The Girl Scout handbook of 1927, in fact, has a recipe for “Some More.” More recently, the U.S. Department of Agriculture got involved, proposing to substitute the chocolate and marshmallows with low-fat yogurt and strawberries … but, really? You can find S’mores on the menu of nearly every rooftop bar and restaurant across the nation, but for some reason, they’re especially omnipresent in Park City as the perfect après-ski snack. Here, Montage Deer Valley reinvented the tradition, with its build-your-own-bite bar featuring marshmallows flavored with cinnamon, mocha, and caramel to be roasted over the fire pit. Take that, USDA!

It’s not known exactly known how or why, but for some reason, in the 1930s, Ruth Wakefield chopped up a bunch of chocolate bits and added them to her cookie dough. The owner (with her hubby) of Toll House Inn in eastern Massachusetts, she had just invented the iconic Toll House cookie. During WW2, these rich and comforting rounds of yumminess were sent to soldiers fighting in the far corners of the world, assuring their place in culinary history. The Toll House Inn burned down, and Ruth is long gone, but Martha Rossini Olson, aka Sweet Martha, is another woman who started small. In the seventies she began selling her own version of chocolate chip cookies at a Minnesota State Fair booth; now, that booth comprises three permanent buildings (capable of baking 30,000 cookies in 12 minutes), and you can find her frozen cookie dough in markets across the country.

Pizza, of course, originated in Italy, but when Italian immigrants poured into the USA in the late 19^th century, they brought their delectable cheesy pies with them. Different pizza traditions evolved in different regions (thin vs. thick crust, etc.), but no legacy remains as strong as New Haven’s. Here, Frank Pepe founded his pizzeria in 1925, and to this day it’s the best known and loved; the house specialty remains white clam pizza: little-necked clams, shredded cheese, olive oil, oregano, and lots of garlic atop the famous charred, crispy, chewy crust.

It’s not exactly sure who first put pattied ground beef between two slices of bread, though it likely had something to do with Germans from Hamburg. Historical archives show that “bread roll warm,” possibly containing beefsteak, was a popular Hamburgian snack in the mid-1850s, enjoyed by immigrants as they made their way to the USA. Among the early claimants is Louis Lassen, who sold his first hamburger in 1900 and who has one thing going for him: His eatery, Louis’ Lunch, is still serving up burgers exactly the way Louis did more than a century ago.

East Coasters have long enjoyed their blue crab, but it took Crosby Gaige in the 1930s to consider adding spices and breadcrumbs to crab meat, in what he called a “Baltimore Crab Cake.” The best crab cakes still come from Maryland, hands down, which makes sense, given its perch near the crab-filled Chesapeake Bay. And there’s no better place to enjoy them than a waterside crab shack such as Jimmy Cantler’s Riverside Inn, where the local delicacy, spiced up with Old Bay seasoning, is served at communal picnic tables; try to score an outdoor seat overlooking Mill Creek.

Whether you order a French dip, Reuben, or corned beef on rye, one thing is sure: Your deli sandwich will be created from the freshest ingredients, especially meat, piled high on pillow-soft bread, pickle on the side. The first deli originated in Germany, back in 1700, with German Jews bringing the concept to the USA, most notably New York City. Katz’s Delicatessen is still the iconic NYC deli, open since 1888. After WW1, delis spilled across the nation and the rest, as they say, is corned beef and pastrami history. For proof, try Canter’s, a third-generation-run, LA staple since 1931. After losing their New Jersey deli in the stock market crash, Ben Canter and his two brothers moved to California to start all over. You’ll see—LA isn’t all about tempeh and tofu.

Donuts have been around in one form or another since prehistoric times, though they didn’t have holes. The first donut-esque pastry made its way to America with the Dutch at New Amsterdam (now Manhattan); they called them olykoeks, or “oily cakes.” But who added the hole? That achievement, so the story goes, belongs to Captain Gregory, a mid-19th-century ship captain whose mother made him donuts with nuts in the center (get it? Dough-nuts). For one reason or another—possibly to better to keep his hands on the wheel during rough seas by skewering one—the hole was added. Donuts earned their iconic cultural status thanks to North Carolinian Vernon Rudolph and his pals, who sold the first Krispy Kremes door to door. Today, you’ll find a donut shop on nearly every corner—hello, Dunkin’ Donuts and Krispy Kreme—but for a good old-fashioned donut experience, there’s no better place than Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop in Brooklyn, filled with locals every day, getting their sugary fix.

The ancient Greeks were the first to whip up chicken with broth, while the Asians have been putting noodles in soup since the 1200s. But it took a chef at Campbell’s company, Ernest Lacoutiere, to mix the two in 1934. To this day, Campbell’s chicken noodle soup rates as one of the top ten grocery items. To try the real deal and then some, head to Plain and Fancy Farm in Pennsylvania’s Amish Country, famed for its thick chicken noodle stew.

Pancakes—variably called hoe cakes, johnnycakes, flapjacks, griddlecakes, etc.—have been around since the dawn of humankind. Seriously. Historians have proven that Stone Age chefs fashioned a flat cake from cattail-and-fern-flour batter, baked on a hot and greasy rock. The ancient Greeks and Romans enjoyed their version (often with honey), as did Elizabethans, the French (aka crêpes), and … naturally, the American colonists. In all their evolution, you may find no better specimen than those served at the Original Hotcake House, a Portland institution beloved for its large portions and options—bacon, coconut, Georgia pecan, even Swedish—served fresh off the grill.

Here’s one that doesn’t really make sense. Who would ever think of combining fried chicken with waffles? But think about it—the satisfying combo of sweet and salty, crunchy and soft … that’s food perfection, right? Leave it to the Pennsylvania Dutch to come up with the first recorded combo, in the 1600s, though the modern-day version centers on Wells Supper Club, which opened in Harlem in 1938. Jazz musicians arriving too late for dinner but too early for breakfast enjoyed the compromise—voilà, chicken and waffles. Wells closed in 1982, but by then chicken and waffles had become a national culinary phenomenon. One of the most famous go-to’s these days remains Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n’ Waffles in Los Angeles, opened by Harlem native Herb Hudson in 1975. Go and see for yourself.

Diners are comfort food temples, a home away from home, where you can indulge in hamburgers and gyros and fries in retro style. But you’ve got to agree that the greasy spoon breakfast—offered all day—is genius. Whether it’s eggs and home fries or pancakes smeared in syrup or eggs benedict, all woes will be cured. Guaranteed. While the diner concept began in Rhode Island in 1872 as a prefabricated building that was moved to their site via train (hence their typical long, sleek shape), New Jersey took over the market in the fifties, specializing in sock hops and juke boxes. Today every town worth its fake maple syrup has a greasy spoon diner, but New Jersey remains steadfast in its diner experience, with Tops Diner in East Jersey, which has been around since the 1920s, often considered the best not only in the state but the country. Everything’s good, but try the brioche French toast stuffed with peanut butter and spiced bananas. Après-breakfast nap required.

What is it about sitting by the water, snacking on a hot dog bun filled with lobster chunks, that makes the world a better place? A Connecticut restaurant named Perry’s came up with the first documented lobster roll, in 1929. And the lobster salad roll took off in 1965 at a Long Island restaurant called (drum roll, please) The Lobster Roll. But you’ve got to admit that Maine has cornered the market, with its corrugated coastline and lobstermen heritage. And many argue there’s no better place to indulge than Bayview Takeout in tiny Beals, where you order at the window and sit at a picnic table overlooking the working harbor, lobster traps scattered about, with nary a worry in the world.

Tacos have evolved full circle, starting off as a street food in the early 1900s, when Mexican migrants first arrived in the U.S. to work on the railroads, to modern day, when gourmet touches have brought food-truck tacos to a whole new level. Take Guerilla Tacos for example. Established as a pop-up in 2012, its mission is to bring gourmet global flavor to the streets. We’re talking a changing menu that might include sweet potato tacos (with almond chile, feta cheese, fried corn, and scallions), cauliflower tacos (with burnt tomato chile, castlevaltrano olives, Medjool dates, and pine nuts) and Dungeness crab quesadillas. Maybe it’s not the way Abuela used to make them, but they’re sure darned good.

Every region has its own form of comfort food, and in the case of Wisconsin, it’s fried cheese curds. You know, those squeaky cheese byproducts that are breaded and flash fried, dunked in creamy ranch. Every bar, fair, fishing lodge, and bowling alley worth its cheese will have them, though try the Old Fashioned in Madison. The chefs experimented tirelessly until they came up with No. 13 on their menu: House-made Wisconsin beer-battered cheese curds. Always made to order.

Grits are the unofficial comfort food of the entire South but mix in some South Carolina shrimp and you’ve got the regional equivalent of a fuzzy blanket. The great news: You can eat them at breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, or even as a midnight snack (aka, whenever you need a mood boost). Chef Robert Stehling at Hominy Grill has perfected the dish, with cheese grits topped with sautéed shrimp, mushrooms, scallions, and crispy bacon, finished with tabasco and fresh lemon juice. Chase it down with a classic Bloody Mary and you’ve just made the world right again.

Strawberries were so seasonally fleeting in the 1840s that women held “strawberry shortcake” parties to celebrate them. These days, we can find them most of the year, though there’s nothing that says summer better than a refreshing serving of juicy strawberries spooned over old-fashioned shortcake biscuits, with a dollop of whipped cream. In the onetime “strawberry capital of the world,” Bulldog Restaurant has been making strawberry shortcake for more than three decades, using only in-season berries (aka May and June); look for the marquee announcement that strawberry shortcake season is on.

Meatloaf wasn’t always the ketchup-smothered wonder we know and love today. A medieval rendition essentially was a culinary scrap heap, invariably made with about-to-expire meats, vegetables, fruits, and/or nuts. The first recorded recipe in the USA came about in the 1870s, made with ground beef, salt, onion, and slices of bread soaked in milk and egg—and served for breakfast (!). Meatloaf became the saving grace for many kitchens during the Depression and war years, when meager amounts of meat could be stretched in palatable form. Whatever the case, this versatile and beloved dish continues to be enjoyed in homes and diners across the nation. 24 Diner in Austin serves up a revved-up version with 14 ingredients, with each slice seared in a cast-iron pan to add the burnt-end flourish.

This is another one whose providence extends far back in history, at least as far back to the Romans, who sometimes prepared pies with living birds under the crust that would burst out when served. Clearly, that would not have been a very comforting meal. Luckily, somewhere along the line chicken pot pies became a tamer affair, with steaming chicken and vegetables prepared beneath a flaky crust. The first recorded recipe in America dates from 1845, in The New England Economical Housekeeper and Family Receipt Book, which states: Scraps and crumbs of meat make a very good dinner.” Perhaps the game changer, however, came when Gilbert C. Swanson introduced chicken pot pie in 1951 as part of a line of frozen convenience foods his company was launching to meet the demand of women entering the workforce. Life has never been the same. Go with the familiar at your market’s frozen freezer section, or experience the cozy-sweater version at Zook’s Homemade Chicken Pies, prepared from scratch in the heart of Amish country.