Vegetarian, or something you can't eat? Set your diet once and we'll hide recipes that don't fit.
372 recipes
Two downtown Los Angeles delis founded in 1908 still argue about who first dunked a roll into the roasting pan juices, but either way the French dip is LA's own sandwich: thin slices of roast beef piled into a crusty French roll that is dipped in a rich, savoury beef jus, eaten with hot mustard at the counter. Chef's tip: make the jus from the roasting pan; the browned bits stuck to the tin are where the flavour lives.
Avocado toast took off in the cafés of Los Angeles and San Francisco, where California's Hass avocados are grown, and it is now the state's standard weekend brunch. The trick is simple ingredients done well: thick sourdough toasted hard, ripe avocado smashed with lemon and good salt, and something crunchy and sharp on top. Chef's tip: season the avocado more than you think, with salt and lemon; underseasoned avocado tastes flat.
In Idaho and neighbouring Utah you don't get your fries without fry sauce, the pale pink dip that drive-ins and burger stands across the potato state put out in paper cups. It is mayonnaise and ketchup at heart, sharpened with a little pickle brine, garlic and smoked paprika, and it goes on chips, burgers and onion rings. Chef's tip: make it an hour ahead and chill it, so the garlic and paprika have time to bloom.
The Mission burrito comes from the taquerias of San Francisco's Mission District, where in the 1960s and 70s cooks began steaming huge flour tortillas and packing them with grilled meat, rice, beans, salsa, cheese and guacamole, then rolling the whole lot tight in foil. One is lunch and dinner for a student. Chef's tip: steam the tortilla until it is soft and stretchy; a cold tortilla splits as you roll it.
In eastern North Carolina barbecue means pork, slow-smoked whole hog or shoulder chopped and dressed with a thin sauce of cider vinegar, chilli flakes and pepper, with no tomato at all. It is served at pit-cooked joints around Ayden and Goldsboro with slaw and hushpuppies, and piled into soft buns at cookouts. This oven version slow-roasts a pork shoulder until it pulls apart. Chef's tip: dress the meat with the sauce while it's still warm, so it soaks right in.
In March, when the sugarhouses of Vermont steam day and night boiling sap, diners and country stores sell this pale caramel-coloured pie made with the new season's syrup. The filling is a simple custard of maple syrup, cream and eggs, so the flavour is pure maple, deep and woody. Use dark, strong-tasting maple syrup, not pancake syrup. Chef's tip: bake until the edges are set but the middle still wobbles like jelly; it firms as it cools.
New York cheesecake is the tall, dense, rich slice served in Manhattan delis and Brooklyn bakeries since the 1920s, made with cream cheese and a little soured cream rather than the curd cheese of European cakes. It is smooth and heavy, with a slight tang and a thin biscuit base, and is usually eaten plain or with strawberries. Chef's tip: have every ingredient at room temperature and beat on low speed; cold cheese makes lumps and fast beating whips in air, which cracks the top.
Knishes came from Eastern Europe with Jewish immigrants and became Lower East Side street food, sold from carts and the old knishery on Houston Street with a dab of brown mustard. A thin, stretchy oil dough is wrapped around a peppery filling of mashed potato and deeply browned onions, then baked golden. Chef's tip: cook the onions slowly until truly brown and sweet; pale onions make a bland filling.
The New York bagel came with Jewish bakers from Poland to the Lower East Side, and it is still breakfast on the go across the five boroughs, split and spread thickly with cream cheese. The dough is stiff and rested overnight in the fridge, then each ring is boiled before baking, which gives the dense, chewy crumb and the glossy, crackly crust. Chef's tip: test one bagel before boiling them all; if it floats in a bowl of cold water, they are ready.
Every summer fire company picnic and church fair in Lancaster County sells this golden soup by the quart: chicken broth tinted with saffron, packed with sweetcorn and shredded chicken, and thickened with rivels, little rubbly dumplings rubbed between the fingers. Some cooks add chopped hard-boiled egg on top. Chef's tip: rub the rivel dough over the simmering soup through your fingers so the pieces fall in small, like grains of rice.
The Sonoran hot dog came north from Hermosillo in Mexico and is now the late-night street food of Tucson, Arizona, sold from carts and small stands called dogueros. A frankfurter is wrapped in bacon (pork) and griddled until crisp, then tucked into a soft, split-top bolillo roll with pinto beans, onion, tomato, mayonnaise, mustard and jalapeño salsa. Chef's tip: wind the bacon tightly in a spiral and start it seam-side down, so it sticks and doesn't unravel.
From Kittery to Bar Harbor, roadside lobster shacks on the Maine coast serve this every summer: big chunks of sweet lobster meat, barely dressed with mayonnaise, lemon and celery, piled into a hot-dog bun toasted in butter. Over the border in Connecticut they serve it warm with melted butter instead, and both camps think the other is wrong. Chef's tip: dress the lobster lightly, just enough to gloss it; the meat should be the star, not the mayonnaise.
Memphis is famous for pork ribs served 'dry': coated in a spice rub of paprika, garlic and chilli and slow-cooked until tender, then dusted with more rub instead of sauce. Basement rib joints downtown and the World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest every May keep the style alive. This oven method gets close to the smoked version. Chef's tip: peel the papery membrane off the back of the ribs before rubbing; it blocks the seasoning and turns leathery.
White barbecue sauce was created in 1925 at a barbecue pit in Decatur, north Alabama, and it is still what that corner of the state puts on smoked and grilled chicken: a peppery mixture of mayonnaise, cider vinegar and horseradish. The hot chicken is dunked in it straight off the grill, so the tangy sauce soaks into the crisp skin. Chef's tip: keep half the sauce separate before it touches raw-chicken brushes, for serving at the table.
At beach shacks along Narragansett Bay and in Galilee, clam cakes are bought by the paper bag, half a dozen at a time, to dunk in a cup of clear clam chowder. They are not patties but craggy, golden fritters, crisp outside and soft inside, studded with chopped quahog clams. Chef's tip: use the clam juice as part of the liquid; it puts the sea flavour into every bite of batter.
In Boston, Irish families made corned beef the centre of St Patrick's Day, swapping the bacon joint of home for the cheaper brisket sold by Jewish butchers, and New Englanders still call the whole pot a boiled dinner. Salt-cured beef brisket is simmered for hours with spices, then potatoes, carrots and wedges of cabbage cook in the same broth. Serve with grainy mustard. Chef's tip: slice the beef across the grain, thinly; cut along the grain it looks stringy and chews tough.
Dirty rice gets its name from the brown speckles of chicken liver and minced pork that colour it, and it is the side dish of Cajun Thanksgivings, church fairs and plate lunches around Lafayette, often served next to fried chicken. It is deeply savoury, peppery and good enough to eat as a main. This recipe contains pork. Chef's tip: chop the livers very finely, almost to a paste, so they melt into the rice rather than sitting in lumps.
The egg cream contains neither egg nor cream: it is the old soda-fountain drink of Brooklyn and the Lower East Side, made of cold milk, chocolate syrup and a hard jet of seltzer that whips up a tall white foam. It was sold for pennies at candy stores and corner luncheonettes, and New Yorkers still argue about the right order to pour. Chef's tip: everything, glass included, must be ice-cold, or the foam collapses.
Salt-cured, aged country ham is a pride of Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia smokehouses, and on mountain breakfast tables it is pan-fried in thin slices, then the pan is deglazed with black coffee to make red-eye gravy, thin, salty and bitter-sweet, spooned over the ham, grits or biscuits. This is pork, and very salty, so the slices are soaked first. Chef's tip: soak the ham in water or milk for 30 minutes if your country ham is very salty, then pat dry.
Fried catfish is the Friday night fish-fry and Delta church supper of Mississippi and Arkansas, where much of America's catfish is farmed. Fillets are soaked in seasoned milk or buttermilk, rolled in cornmeal and fried until the crust crackles and the mild, sweet fish inside flakes apart. Serve with hushpuppies, slaw and lemon. Chef's tip: cut thick fillets in half lengthways so they cook in the same time as the crust browns.
Biscuits and gravy is the working breakfast of the rural South and Appalachia, served at truck stops in Tennessee and diners in the Virginia mountains: fresh biscuits split open and smothered in a thick white 'sawmill' gravy made from crumbled pork sausage, its fat, flour, milk and plenty of black pepper. Chef's tip: don't drain the sausage fat; it is what thickens and flavours the gravy.
Natchitoches, the oldest town in Louisiana, is famous for these crescent-shaped fried pies, sold at its Christmas Festival of Lights and from family pie shops on Front Street. The filling is minced beef and pork with onion, garlic and cayenne, wrapped in a short pastry and fried until blistered and crisp. It contains pork. Chef's tip: cool the filling completely before filling the pastry, or the dough softens and tears.
The black and white is a New York bakery fixture, a saucer-sized, soft, lemony cookie that is closer to a sponge than a biscuit, iced half in vanilla and half in chocolate. Delis and Jewish bakeries from the Upper West Side to Brooklyn sell them by the till. Chef's tip: ice the flat underside, not the domed top, and do the vanilla half first so the chocolate doesn't bleed into it.
Green goddess dressing was created at the Palace Hotel in San Francisco in the 1920s, named after a popular play, and it came back as the herb-packed dressing of California salad bars and grain bowls. It is pale green and creamy, full of tarragon, parsley and chives. The hotel's original used anchovies; this vegetarian version gets its savoury punch from capers. Use it on salads, as a dip for crudités or on roast vegetables. Chef's tip: blend the herbs with the lemon first, before the creamy ingredients, so they break down fully and turn the dressing bright green.
Showing 24 of 372 recipes
Show more recipesPage 1 of 16
American
