13 New England Foods That Are Truly Iconic

We don't know about you, but one of the first things we do when planning a trip anywhere is to look at the local food scene. The food of a place is as indicative of its culture as the architecture, history, or entertainment there. The importance of food to a region is doubly true for New England, an area including six states – Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island.

The cuisine here epitomizes the concept of fusion food, bringing together the traditions brought to the New World by the Puritan colonists from England, blending them with locally sourced foods, and incorporating established food heritage from Indigenous populations. The culinary landscape has continued to evolve over the centuries with ongoing immigration, adopting the flavors and techniques of people from Ireland, France, Portugal, Italy, and more.

The ingredients fundamental to New England cuisine include fresh seafood, potatoes, corn, maple syrup, salt pork, dairy, beef, and beans. And while many dishes evolved out of religious tradition, some were purely practical, growing out of the necessity to use ingredients before they could spoil. Let's look at some of the most iconic dishes that make New England such a culinary mecca for food enthusiasts.

There is no dish more evocative of New England than the lobster roll. While it is something that can now be found at restaurants and seafood shacks up and down the Eastern Seaboard, it is historically a dish that was associated with summer picnics eaten with sand between your toes, salty ocean water spraying in the breeze, and warm sun beating down upon your brow.

Though hotly contested, its origins generally get attributed to Perry's restaurant in Milford, Connecticut, where in 1926, fresh, warm lobster was served as a sandwich. From there, it grew in popularity, with variations popping up everywhere, particularly in Maine, where lobsters are considered a delicacy.

Its pervasiveness has led to a serious debate over what constitutes an authentic lobster roll, the style from Maine or Connecticut. Citizens of each state fervently believe their style reigns supreme. The Maine lobster roll usually gets served atop a halved, toasted hot dog bun. The fresh lobster meat gets tossed with a hint of mayonnaise and perhaps a bit of chopped celery — no more, no less.

The Connecticut lobster roll generally gets served in a less crusty bun but is still halved and toasted. The fresh lobster is warmed and gently kissed with melted butter, no mayo, no accouterments. And don't you dare ask for the lobster to be served cold. That would be sacrilege, although you may occasionally find a limp piece of lettuce on your bun to help absorb the moisture from the butter and warm lobster.

While the debate between New England and Manhattan clam chowder is alive and well, the notion of a traditional New England version of clam chowder is perhaps a bit too rigid. Variations across New England abound, with some versions being broth-based and others being cream or milk-based. What is certain, however, is that tomatoes do not belong in a New England clam chowder. In fact, in 1939, Maine even introduced a bill to ban the use of tomatoes in chowder, underscoring the importance of this distinction.

Aside from potatoes and salt pork, the key to any iteration of clam chowder in New England is the local breed of clams known as quahogs. Quahog is a Native American term for a type of hard shell clam indigenous to the region, Mercenaria mercenaria, which means wages in Latin, presumably referring to the fact that shells of this species of clam got turned into decorative jewelry and sold by Native Americans. This chowder though similar to fish stews of England and France, is known for its luscious, rich, creamy texture that gets adorned with oyster crackers. The key is to not thicken it too much with flour, or it can develop a pasty mouthfeel.

The Johnnycake is a food item that, while synonymous with New England culinary tradition, is also commonly found in the Deep South and the Caribbean. Its origins may be somewhat murky, but what is certain is that they were adopted by early settlers from Native Americans. These corn pancakes historically got made from just three ingredients, cornmeal, boiling water, and salt. Similarly to tortillas, their batter should be runny enough to yield a flatbread that is no thicker than one-quarter of an inch. Modern-day recipes may incorporate ingredients like milk, butter, and even bacon, but the classic remains supreme.

According to historical records, when the Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth in 1620, they were starving because their stash of wheat had rotted en route from England. Fortunately, the Patuxet Indians, who were members of the Wampanoag nation, which spread across New England, were able to educate the colonists on how to grow, harvest, process, and cook with corn. It was from them that the settlers learned to make Johnnycakes.

The origin of their name has several different theories. Some believe it evolved from the term journey cakes, meaning these were shelf-stable food items that could survive a long journey. Others think the term was a mispronounced version of the name Shawnee Cakes. Still, others surmise the name derives from the American Indian term for a corn cake: janiken. Regardless of where the name came from, the recipe was integral to the survival of these early settlers as they adapted to their newfound homes.

While baked beans are often associated with Boston, their origins go back much further. Early settlers likely adopted the recipe from a dish observed among Native American cultures of the Iroquois, Narragansett, and Penobscot tribes. These Indigenous populations would slow-cook navy beans, which evolved in South America, with maple syrup, venison, and bacon fat in earthenware pots. 

The Puritan pilgrims recognized the similarity of this dish to stew-like potages they would make back in England. Because their religion demanded they observe the Sabbath, they could recreate this kind of bean and bacon stew with the local navy beans and allow the stew to simmer overnight from Saturday to Sunday, providing them with a nutritious, hot breakfast without any labor.

By the mid-18th century, molasses became a common ingredient added to baked beans in Boston, thanks to its abundance as a by-product of rum production at the hands of enslaved plantation workers in the Caribbean. The use of molasses with salt pork and dry mustard in place of venison, bear fat, and maple syrup made this variation distinctive. 

The navy bean has been considered the state bean of Massachusetts since 1993. Additionally, July is officially National Baked Bean Month, during which Bostonians make it a point to celebrate by stewing a pot of these legendary beans.

The concept of slow-cooking meat and vegetables isn't unique to New England, even though the earliest recipes for this kind of dish didn't begin popping up in cookbooks until the 19th century. Taking a relatively inexpensive hunk of meat that was tough because it got sourced from the muscles of an animal that often did the most work — think chuck roast or brisket. Then, allowing it to braise in liquid for so long that all the gelatin could render out of the connective tissue in the meat, making it fall-apart juicy, is a relatively classic culinary technique dating back to Europe. 

Indeed, one should look no further than corned beef and cabbage, boeuf Bourguignon, or an English Sunday roast to see the connection. So, what makes this dish distinctly Yankee? This moniker likely conveys the inherent restraint, thriftiness, and resourcefulness that early settlers of New England were known for. It was a dish they could reproduce with modest ingredients that were readily available. 

The stew would braise for hours during the long, harsh winters, simultaneously providing a heat source for the kitchen while yielding a one-dish meal that required nothing else besides perhaps some crusty bread to fill hungry bellies. Any remnants of this dish could get repurposed the next day in a hash, sandwich, or pie. The sign of an authentic Yankee pot roast is that it should never have tomatoes, wine, or other ingredients that would not have been easily accessible to early settlers with limited resources.

Boston cream pie is delicious, but its moniker is a misnomer. It is not a pie but a cake filled with luscious pastry cream and coated with a dark chocolate ganache. Why is it called a pie? When this dessert debuted at the Boston Parker House hotel — now Omni Parker House – in 1856, resident chef Sanzian, a Frenchman hired to create the menu for the grand opening, titled this dessert Chocolate Cream Pie or Parker House Chocolate Cream Pie. 

Desserts in that era got made in pie tins rather than cake tins, which were less common, and pudding-cake pies were a regular dessert served, making this moniker less of an oddity. What made this pie so distinct was the inclusion of chocolate, which, prior to the Boston cream pies invention, was not an ingredient frequently used outside the home. 

Its popularity soared, with a recipe for Boston Cream Cakes appearing in the 1879 cookbook by Marion Cabell Tyree titled "Housekeeping in Old Virginia." By 1958, Betty Crocker had jumped on the bandwagon, debuting its boxed cake mix recipe for Boston cream pie. And on December 12, 1996, Boston cream pie was named the official state dessert of Massachusetts. Whether you call it pie or cake, if you are ever in Boston, don't pass up the opportunity to sample a slice of this impossibly decadent dessert.

While the term stuffies may elicit warm fuzzy feelings associated with your favorite plush toy growing up, it also refers to a delicacy that is a staple in what is known as quahog country or Li'l Rhody, namely the state of Rhode Island. Stuffies refer to purple-hued hard-shell clams called quahogs that get shucked, their juices captured and mixed with stale bread or cracker crumbs before getting stuffed back into the clam shells. 

This recipe grew out of the necessity to feed hungry fishermen, farmers, and day laborers in need of a hearty yet inexpensive meal that would fortify them throughout their workdays. Variations of the stuffie abound, with some benefitting from adding chopped vegetables, some incorporating seasonings reminiscent of a Thanksgiving stuffing, and others adding chorizo in a Portuguese twist on the classic. 

Purists insist that anything other than a squirt of hot sauce or lemon juice is sacrilege. While stuffies can get enjoyed at a panoply of restaurants and seaside shacks throughout Rhode Island, they can also get purchased through specialty seafood purveyors or sampled at one of the stuffie contests held across New England, where locals can show off their creativity and adoration for these mouthwatering mollusks.

The debate over which pizza reigns supreme revolves around New York versus Chicago, but hold up, another pizza exists that should get included in this debate. It is called apizza and it became a staple of New Haven, Connecticut, early in the 1900s when immigrants from Southern Italy settled in the area, bringing with them the pizza of their homeland. 

The earliest iterations of this pizza sold from streetside stands in much the same way these Italian migrants would have consumed it in Italy. And while there is some evidence of a bakery selling a version of apizza in 1917, the first commercial apizza restaurant, which still exists today, was Pepe's Pizzeria Napoletana, founded in 1925.

What sets apizza apart from its New York and Chicago counterparts is multifaceted. It is a thin-crust, oval pie without the quintessential edge you may find elsewhere. It seldom gets sold by the slice because of its odd shape. The crust is left in the oven long enough to get a blackened char that some might think is burnt but is part of its signature flavor and charm. 

Its crust gets made using a cold-fermentation process, during which the dough refrigerates overnight, slowly rising before baking, yielding a toothsome texture. Mozzarella isn't added automatically but is considered a topping you ask for. The classic pie is made simply with fresh crushed tomatoes. And if you want to tap into New England heritage, order a white clam pizza, which pairs the local seafood with garlic, aged cheese, and sometimes bacon.

No doubt frying pretty much anything will make it taste delicious. Clams are no different, and on July 3, 1916, Lawrence "Chubby" Woodman and his wife Bessie, owners of a little roadside shack on Main Street in Essex, Massachusetts, discovered this first hand. 

According to lore and notes maintained on the reverse of their wedding certificate, on that fated day, the couple were lamenting about business being slow when a customer facetiously suggested they batter and fry up some clams in addition to their beloved potato chips. The couple decided to toy around with various batters until deciding upon one using milk and a combination of finely ground cornmeal and flour. The result was an instant hit, and Woodman's is still serving these fried clams over 100 years later.

The key to these legendary fried clams is the type of clam used. This region along what is known as the Mollusk Trail from Rowley to Essex is known for soft-shelled Ipswich clams, lauded for their luxurious flavor. As news of the fried clam spread across New England, other areas began frying their variations from local hard shell clams. 

By the mid-century, Howard Johnson's, the legendary restaurant and hotel chain, began offering fried clam strips made only of clam legs. These got dubbed by purists to be fried rubber bands. While the Ipswich soft-shell clam is harder to come by today due to pollution, infrastructure development, and over-fishing, you can still enjoy the classic fried clam along the Mollusk Trail at Woodman's.

The idea of digging a pit in the ground and cooking something in it is not unique to New Englanders. Evidence of this style of cooking technique gets seen across the globe, from Hawaiian Kalua pig to Moroccan lamb Méchoui. On the East Coast, however, this tradition can be traced back over 2,000 years to the early Indigenous people inhabiting areas of modern-day Massachusetts, Maine, and Connecticut. 

These early Natives of the Wabanaki tribe would collect assorted shellfish, including clams, and place them in a pit filled with hot rocks and water, which would come to a boil and get covered with a natural lid that would steam the shellfish to perfection. In the 1700s, Pilgrims witnessed this communal seafood bake, inspiring them to develop their variation using pits filled with hot rocks, smoldering embers of wood topped with seaweed, then layered with seafood, potatoes, corn, and more seaweed before allowing the feast to steam to salty, smoke-infused perfection. 

This newfound culinary technique became a powerful symbol of individuality and a distinct identity away from their European heritage. Today the ritual continues as a means of providing community, solidarity, and an escape from the trials and tribulations of the real world. Should you get invited to a seafood bake, don't miss the opportunity. Take the time to interact with locals and enjoy a beer or two while awaiting your delectable feast.

Fall in New England is a glorious time. Tourists flock to the region to observe the spectacular fall colors and indulge in authentic fall sweet treats, including fluffy, sugary apple cider donuts featured at apple orchards dotting the landscape from Maine to Connecticut. While these yummy snacks feel like they have been around for centuries, they are a relatively recent addition to the New England food scene.

In 1916, a Russian ex-pat and inventor witnessed the penchant soldiers had for donuts, inspiring him to invent a donut-making contraption that he featured prominently in the window of his Harlem bakery. He quickly sold these machines to bakeries across the region and went on to establish the Donut Corporation of America (DCA). The DCA dabbled in numerous flavors with more or less success until, in 1951, they proposed a sweet cider donut. 

This donut was a play on a traditional buttermilk donut with the addition of apple cider and sweet spices like cinnamon and nutmeg. They became a holiday hit and are staples in bakeries across New England every autumn. Modern variations may include flavorings like ginger, allspice, apple butter, maple syrup, and vanilla. These get garnished with cinnamon sugar, powdered sugar, or a maple glaze and are the perfect dunking apparatus for a hot cup of spiced apple cider.

Some recipes, though popular with a distinct group of people, fall out of favor for one reason or another. Indian pudding is one of these recipes. The fall dessert, which has its own national day on November 13, is a nostalgic relic only found in historic inns or restaurants across New England. 

It is a rather unattractive dish featuring cornmeal, molasses, milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and eggs that bake slowly in a hot water bath until it is a dark brown color with a gooey texture. It often gets topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a pinch of cinnamon to spruce it up.

Its heritage is something New Englanders consider uniquely their own. Colonists from Britain were partial to a classic hasty pudding, which was made with wheat flour mixed into milk or water and heated until it formed a gruel before being baked. Since wheat was non-existent in New England, cornmeal made from dense hulled, colorful Indian corn called flint corn was substituted, along with the addition of molasses, which was abundant during the Triangle Trade of the 18th century. 

This trade route consisted of enslaved Africans brought to the Caribbean to harvest sugar, which subsequently got sent to New England to get made into rum and finally found its way back to Africa. The by-product of rum production was abundant molasses.

Like many iconic foods, the origin of the whoopie pie has gotten hotly contested. While the Pennsylvania Amish insist that these desserts were born out of Amish making use of leftover chocolate cake batter and filling it with a creamy filling, prompting husbands and children alike to yell whoopie at the sight of these treats — which got popularized in New England.

They first retailed at Labadie's Bakery in Lewiston, Maine, in 1925. And in 1931, the Berwick Cake Company of Roxbury, Massachusetts, began advertising whoopie pies, as evidenced by the bricks of the antique Berwick building which stands today. In the 1930s, Durkee-Mower, inventor of marshmallow crème, launched a variety show known as the Flufferettes on the "Yankee Radio Network." During this show, a segment premiered called "Yummy Book," which featured recipes for different sweets, including the fluffernutter sandwich and whoopie pie, forever linking the two.

Continuing its legacy as a truly New England staple, the Whoopie Pie became the official state treat of Maine in 2011, with the blueberry pie being the official dessert. The state holds an annual whoopie pie festival featuring variations of the classic, including chocolate peanut butter, double chocolate, chocolate chip, pumpkin, and gingerbread. A real whoopie pie is usually about the size of a hamburger, making it something best enjoyed when shared with a friend.