9 Michigan Dishes Outsiders Can’t Pronounce Or Understand
Growing up in Michigan, I never thought twice about the foods that filled our tables and takeout bags—they were just part of everyday life.
It wasn’t until college, when my roommate from Texas came to visit, that I realized how strange our local dishes could sound to outsiders. Watching her puzzle over menu items and ask, “What on earth is that?” quickly became my favorite form of entertainment.
From hearty Upper Peninsula specialties to quirky Detroit street food, Michigan’s cuisine is packed with unusual names, regional twists, and unique ingredients. Here are nine dishes that leave out-of-staters scratching their heads.
1. Cudighi: The U.P.’s Secret Sandwich Weapon
My Italian grandmother would smack me with a wooden spoon for admitting this, but I didn’t try cudighi until I was 30! This Upper Peninsula specialty—pronounced “coo-DIG-ee”—is a spicy Italian sausage sandwich that originated with immigrant miners.
Locals serve it on a long roll topped with mozzarella and tomato sauce, though some U.P. restaurants add mustard and onions instead. The sausage itself contains a distinctive blend of cinnamon and nutmeg that confuses outsiders but delights Yoopers.
When friends visit from downstate, watching them attempt to pronounce it never gets old. “Coo-di-what now?” they’ll ask, before taking their first life-changing bite.
2. Paczki: The Donut That Defies Pronunciation
Fat Tuesday transforms into Paczki Day across Michigan, and I’ve witnessed countless newcomers butcher its pronunciation. These Polish pastries (correctly said “POONCH-kee”) make ordinary donuts look like amateur hour.
Filled with fruit preserves or custard and fried to golden perfection, they’re worth the five-hour lines that form outside bakeries each February. My Polish neighbor Mrs. Kowalski used to make them from scratch, filling her kitchen with the intoxicating scent of sugar and dough.
The tradition began as a way to use up ingredients before Lent. Today, scoring the perfect paczki has become a competitive sport among Michiganders.
3. Koegel’s Viennas: Flint’s Hot Dog Royalty
“Want a Vienna?” I asked my California cousin during his first Michigan visit. His confused expression said it all. Not just any hot dog, Koegel’s Viennas reign supreme in Flint and beyond, causing outsiders to wonder why we’re so passionate about tube meat.
These natural-casing hot dogs snap when you bite them—a sound that echoes through every summer barbecue in my neighborhood. Locals serve them “Coney style” or “up” (with mustard, onion and a special sauce).
Founded in 1916, Koegel’s remains family-owned and operated in Flint. The recipe hasn’t changed in over a century, and neither has our fierce loyalty to this Michigan staple.
4. Pasty: The Miner’s Lunch With An Identity Crisis
First-timers always say it wrong—it’s “PASS-tee,” not “PASTE-ee” (which would be something entirely different!). My great-grandfather carried these hearty meat pies into the copper mines of the Upper Peninsula, where Cornish immigrants introduced them in the 1800s.
Each hand-held meal contains a simple filling of beef, potatoes, rutabaga, and onions wrapped in flaky crust. The debate over whether ketchup or gravy belongs on top has literally ended friendships in my hometown.
During winter drives to Marquette, we’d stop at roadside pasty shops where steam would fog up the windows. Nothing warms a Michigan winter day like this portable meal that outsiders constantly mispronounce.
5. Sanders Bumpy Cake: The Dessert With Texture Issues
My birthday wish remained consistent for 18 years straight—Sanders Bumpy Cake. Out-of-state relatives would stare suspiciously at those chocolate ridges, wondering why anyone would want “bumps” on their cake.
Created in Detroit by Fred Sanders in the early 1900s, this legendary dessert features chocolate cake topped with buttercream ridges and poured fudge frosting. The result? Textural magic that confuses first-timers but creates instant addiction.
When my college roommate from Ohio first tried it, she actually accused me of holding out on her. “You’ve known about this your entire life and never told me?” she demanded between bites. That’s the power of Bumpy Cake—it creates both devotion and betrayal.
6. Detroit-Style Coney Dog: A Tale Of Two Cities
“But it’s just a chili dog,” said my New York friend, committing the ultimate Michigan food sin. I nearly revoked his visitor privileges on the spot! The Detroit-style Coney (topped with beanless chili, mustard, and onions) ignites fierce regional pride, especially against its Flint-style cousin.
Detroit’s version features a wetter, meatier sauce while Flint’s is drier with a more finely ground meat topping. My family gatherings often dissolve into heated debates about which city does it better.
Despite the name, Coney dogs have nothing to do with Coney Island. Greek immigrants created this Michigan masterpiece, establishing legendary spots like American and Lafayette in Detroit where the rivalry continues today.
7. Superman Ice Cream: The Colorful Michigan Mystery
Blue moon, red pop, and lemon walk into a Michigan ice cream shop… No, that’s not the start of a joke—it’s Superman ice cream! As a kid, I’d beg for this tri-colored treat, leaving my out-of-state cousins bewildered by my blue-stained tongue.
Nobody quite agrees on the exact flavors in this Michigan creation. Some say blue moon (itself a Michigan mystery flavor), red pop (like Faygo soda), and lemon. Others claim it’s blue moon, cherry, and vanilla.
The origins remain equally mysterious. Stroh’s Brewery in Detroit gets credit from some, while others point to Hudsonville Ice Cream. Whatever the truth, watching visitors try to describe the indescribable flavor of blue moon remains a pure Michigan pleasure.
8. Cherries Jubilee: Traverse City’s Sweet Obsession
Traverse City’s cherry obsession runs deeper than outsiders can comprehend. I’ve watched my aunt transform these ruby gems into everything imaginable—including her famous Cherries Jubilee that’s nothing like the flaming dessert you’d find elsewhere.
Michigan’s version combines tart Montmorency cherries with sweet varieties in dishes ranging from glazed pork to chocolate-covered treats. During the National Cherry Festival, I’ve sampled cherry bratwurst, cherry salsa, and even cherry beer.
Our state produces 75% of the nation’s tart cherries, mostly around the Traverse City region. Visitors often laugh at our cherry-everything approach until they taste these flavor-packed fruits and become converts to our ruby red religion.
9. Whitefish Dip: The Great Lakes’ Creamy Treasure
Every summer cottage gathering begins the same way in my family—someone places a bowl of smoked whitefish dip on the table, and the out-of-staters approach with suspicion. “Fish…as a dip?” they question, wrinkling their noses until that first cracker changes everything.
Caught fresh from our Great Lakes, the whitefish is smoked, then blended with cream cheese, sour cream, and herbs. The result is smoky, creamy perfection that’s completely foreign to inland visitors.
My grandfather’s secret recipe included a splash of Michigan cherry wine that elevated it to legendary status at family reunions. Now I make it every summer, watching with satisfaction as newcomers convert to this distinctly Michigan delicacy that connects us to our freshwater heritage.