Americans love an exotic origin story. We want our international foods carrying a centuries-old recipe written in cursive. Nothing tastes quite as good as something we believe passed through at least three generations of grandmothers.
And yet, many of the “foreign” foods we smugly mispronounce in restaurants were actually invented right here in America. Not adapted. Not improved. Invented. As in: somebody in an American kitchen said, “What if we did this?” and history shrugged and said, “Sure.”
Let’s begin our culinary identity crisis.
Chop Suey, General Tso’s chicken, crab Rangoon, and fortune cookies form the Mount Rushmore of Chinese-American cuisine—iconic, beloved, and only loosely connected to China itself.
Chop suey may be the original Chinese-American invention. Created in the late 19th century, in California, it was designed to appeal to Western palates using familiar meats and vegetables stir-fried together. Though legends claim ancient Chinese roots, chop suey is an American improvisation—part necessity, part marketing.
General Tso’s chicken is named after Zuo Zongtang, a 19th-century Chinese general who never tasted anything battered and deep-fried. The dish familiar to Americans was popularized in the United States in the 1970s, often credited to chef Peng Chang-kuei after he brought a toned-down version from Taiwan to New York in the 1950s.
Crab Rangoon, a deep-fried wonton stuffed with cream cheese and crab, is another American creation. Cream cheese is unknown in traditional Chinese cooking, making the dish less “ancient recipe” and more “mid-century cocktail party.” It emerged post-WWII in San Franciso’s Trader Vic Polynesian-themed restaurant.
Fortune cookies complete the quartet. Despite their association with Chinese restaurants, they were also invented in California and trace their roots to Japanese-American bakers.
To complete the Far East tour of misinformation, the California Roll was invented in the United States in the 1970s by sushi chefs in Los Angeles. Designed for American tastes, it replaced raw tuna with avocado and crab, turning sushi inside-out and introducing millions of Americans to Japanese cuisine.
Speaking of Polynesian influences, the abomination known as Hawaiian pizza was invented by a Greek-Canadian restauranteur in the 1960s. Pineapple on pizza then made its way into American culture, where it has caused arguments for the past half century.
When people around here say they are going for Mexican, they are probably referring to Tex-Mex, as in created in the American Southwest. Tex-Mex food is its own cuisine, shaped by geography, immigration, and American abundance. Different roots, same delicious result.
This menu includes: Chili con carne, the unofficial state food of Texas. Traditional Mexican cuisine doesn’t feature chili as a standalone stew. This is a Texas invention, built on beef, chilies, and bravado.
Also on the home-grown list are hard-shell tacos, fajitas, chimichangas (Arizona), Queso, and flour tortillas. And as you’re enjoying your nachos during the big game, thank the Texans who invented them in the 1940s.
There are obviously a great many people in Greene County of Irish descent. Many of them like to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with a traditional Irish dish of corned beef and cabbage. However, its roots are Irish-American.
In Ireland, pork and potatoes were far more common, while beef was expensive and usually exported. When Irish immigrants arrived in 19th-century America, they found corned beef affordable from Jewish butchers in urban neighborhoods. Curing the beef with salt made it last longer, and cabbage was cheap and filling. Combined, they created a hearty, economical meal. Over time, the dish became a St. Patrick’s Day staple. It’s really a lasting symbol of immigrant adaptation rather than Old World tradition.
The county also has a sizable Italian population, whose nanas have incredible pasta recipes. However, in Italy, spaghetti and meatballs is not a thing. There are meat dishes. There are pasta dishes. They politely keep their distance.
Spaghetti and meatballs as we know it was born in America, created by Italian immigrants who suddenly had access to more meat than ever before. The result was a glorious, oversized, sauce-soaked symbol of abundance. It’s less “old country” and more “new opportunity with extra Parmesan.” Same with Fettuccine Alfredo.
Rounding out our tour of faux, foreign foods:
French dressing sounds elegant. Sophisticated. The kind of thing that should be poured while wearing a scarf. In reality, French dressing, especially the orange, tangy variety, was invented in the United States. In France, vinaigrette is king, and it doesn’t glow in the dark.
American French dressing is what happens when we look at another culture’s food and say, “Yes, but what if we added a bunch of sugar and paprika?” The result is a salad topping that is as French as a guy named Billy Bob.
This one hurts. Deeply. German chocolate cake is not from Germany. It was named after Samuel German, an American chocolatier who developed a type of dark baking chocolate in the 1850s. The cake itself became popular in the United States after a Texas newspaper printed a recipe in the 1950s. This is an entirely American dessert with an identity crisis and a misleading name.
These foods aren’t impostors. They’re immigrants. They tell the story of America doing what it does best: borrowing ideas, remixing them enthusiastically, and sometimes slapping the wrong label on the jar.
So, the next time you order something that sounds foreign, take a moment. It might not have crossed an ocean. But it’s still part of our shared culinary mythology.
