16 Iconic New York Foods Locals Don’t Even Call By Their Full Names
New Yorkers talk about food the way cabbies talk about shortcuts, quick and confident, no wasted words. Names get clipped, vowels get mushed, meaning sharpens like a deli knife.
Orders sound like poetry scratched on a subway wall, spicy, specific, perfectly efficient. Steam rises from a griddle, garlic rides the air, sirens hum two blocks away.
Locals barely look up; they just ask for what they want in code. Outsiders hear jargon. Regulars hear music. Learn the shorthand, and a whole city opens like a pizza box on a stoop at midnight, hot, glossy, impossible to resist.
1. BEC, SPK, on a roll
Corner bodegas before 10 a.m. are the city’s true breakfast temples, where griddles pop and coffee burbles nonstop.
Locals don’t waste syllables ordering a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with salt, pepper, and ketchup on a kaiser roll. They just say BEC, SPK, on a roll, and the guy behind the counter nods like you just spoke fluent New York.
I once watched a tourist try to order this using complete sentences, and the line behind her groaned in unison. Ask for pepper jack or hot sauce if you want a little morning drama.
The bodega breakfast is sacred, efficient, and never meant to be overthought.
2. A regular slice
Walk into any slice joint with fingerprints on the glass and oregano in the air, and you’ll hear it: gimme a regular. Nobody says cheese slice here. That’s tourist talk.
A regular slice means plain cheese pizza, New York style, thin crust with just enough grease to leave a shine on the paper plate.
Fold, walk, breathe basil and blistered mozzarella, never break the unspoken code. The beauty is in the simplicity, the way the cheese stretches, and the crust snaps.
Ordering a regular is like speaking the city’s mother tongue, no translation needed.
3. A pie
Family spots, late-night deliveries, and post-game gatherings all revolve around one simple word: pie. A whole New York pizza is never called a whole pizza, just a pie, usually large, sometimes well done for extra char and snap.
One large pie, well done, is the gold standard order, especially when feeding a crowd or settling in for a movie marathon.
Specify well done if you want that crispy bottom and caramelized edges. I’ve seen entire arguments settled over whether a pie should be well done or regular. It’s not just food, it’s city philosophy baked into dough.
4. A square
Old-school parlors with trays cooling on the counter are where you’ll hear someone order a square. This is the Sicilian slice, thick and airy with caramelized edges that crunch like autumn leaves.
One square is all you need to say, and the person behind the counter knows exactly which tray to reach for.
Corner pieces have that chewy-crispy edge everyone secretly aims for. I’ve watched people wait an extra five minutes just to snag that golden corner.
The square is a different beast than the regular slice, fluffier, sturdier, more forgiving, and deeply satisfying in a way only thick dough can be.
5. Grandma
Staten Island to Queens, family-recipe pride runs deep wherever Grandma slices are sold. This is a thin pan pie with crushed tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, and mozzarella, baked until the bottom gets crispy and the top stays soft.
Let me get a grandma is the only phrase you need, and it brings instant respect.
Ask for extra garlic if you want that cozy Sunday-kitchen aroma filling your car or apartment. The grandma slice tastes like someone’s nonna made it just for you, even if you’re eating it alone at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday.
It’s comfort in square form.
6. A chopped
Bodegas with sizzling flat-tops and good speakers are the birthplace of the chopped cheese, ground beef chopped with onions, and melted cheese on a hero.
One chopped, lettuce, tomato, mayo is the standard call, though some folks swap in pepper jack or add SPK for that familiar city zip.
I tried my first chopped in Washington Heights, and it tasted like a cheeseburger had a baby with a Philly cheesesteak. The beef gets crispy on the griddle, the cheese melts into every crevice, and the hero holds it all together.
It’s Harlem soul food, bodega style, no frills, all flavor.
7. Regular coffee
Carts at sunrise, diners with chrome trim, bodegas anytime, all serve regular coffee the same way: milk and two sugars, no questions asked. Just say regular, and you’ll get exactly that.
Light and sweet leans creamier and sugar-happy, black means exactly black, but regular is the city’s default setting.
I’ve ordered regular coffee in six different boroughs, and it tastes like home every single time. The blue-and-white paper cup, the steam curling up, the first sip that’s always a little too hot.
It’s the most democratic drink in New York, loved by Wall Street suits and construction crews alike.
8. Lox, schmear, on an everything
Bagel shops with sesame on the floor and a line out the door are where you’ll hear lox, schmear, on an everything barked at the counter.
This is an everything bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon, the quintessential New York breakfast that never goes out of style.
Nova signals a milder smoked salmon, capers, and red onion keep it snappy. I once ate one of these standing on the subway platform, and it was still the best breakfast I had all week.
The everything bagel gives you garlic, onion, poppy, sesame, and salt all at once, while the lox adds silky richness that makes you forget you’re eating standing up.
9. Patty with coco
Golden-lit bakeries and corner shops where turmeric perfume hangs in the air are the only places to order a patty coco.
This is a Jamaican beef patty tucked into soft coco bread, a handheld meal that’s spicy, buttery, and somehow both filling and light. Patty coco is all you need to say, and the person wrapping it already knows you’re a regular.
Add pepper sauce or a slice of cheese, chase with a cold Ting. The coco bread soaks up the patty’s yellow grease, the beef crumbles with every bite, and the heat builds slowly. It’s Caribbean comfort food, Brooklyn style.
10. Ices
Neighborhood stands and summer stoops are where you’ll hear kids and adults alike ask for two ices, one lemon, one cherry. This is Italian ice, not Italian ices, despite what the sign might say.
Locals just call it ices, eaten with a tiny wooden spoon that splinters if you bite it.
Cherry stains lips, lemon cools like ocean breeze, mix for a city sunset swirl. I grew up chasing the ice truck down my block every June, and the sound of that wooden spoon scraping the bottom still makes me nostalgic.
It’s summer in a cup, frozen and sweet, simple as childhood.
11. Two with red onions
Carts near parks and corners where steam whispers up the umbrella serve the city’s most iconic street snack.
Two with onions or two with red means two Sabrett hot dogs with red onion sauce, that sweet-savory gravy that stains napkins and fingers. Nobody says two hot dogs with onion sauce, that’s just wasting breath.
Add kraut or spicy brown mustard for that snap-and-vinegar one-two punch. I once ate three of these after a Yankees game, and I regret nothing.
The snap of the casing, the soft bun, the sticky onion sauce, it all adds up to pure New York.
12. Pastrami, rye, mustard
Classic delis where slicers sing and pickle bowls clack are the only places to order pastrami, rye, and mustard.
This is a hot pastrami sandwich on rye bread with deli mustard, no mayo, no lettuce, no nonsense. Ask for fatty if you want melt-away slices that dissolve on your tongue, grab extra half-sours from the barrel.
I waited forty minutes in line at Katz’s just to order this, and every second was worth it. The pastrami is peppery, smoky, and tender enough to pull apart with your fingers.
The rye is sturdy, the mustard sharp, and the pickle crunchy enough to cut through the richness.
13. Wings
Western New York bars with neon and blue cheese devotion never call them Buffalo wings. Just wings. Twenty wings, medium, extra blue is the standard order, and everyone knows what you mean. Blue cheese, not ranch, celery on the side, respect the crisp.
I’ve seen bar fights almost start over ranch versus blue cheese. The wings should be fried hard, tossed in sauce that’s tangy and buttery, never soggy.
Medium heat keeps flavor first, heat second. The celery is there to cool your mouth, the blue cheese to balance the fire.
Wings are serious business upstate, and the name stays short for a reason.
14. A plate
Rochester’s glorious pile of home fries or mac salad under meats, sauce, and onions is simply called a plate. The full name, Garbage Plate, sounds messy because it is, but locals just say a plate, cheeseburger, mac, and hot sauce when they order.
Upstate counters after midnight serve these with grill-smoked sweet and heavy, and the smell alone could wake the whole block.
Mix bites as you go, let everything mingle, and chase with a cold soda. I had my first plate at 1 a.m. in a diner that smelled like heaven and looked like chaos. It’s comfort food taken to its logical, delicious extreme.
15. Riggies
Utica-Rome supper circuits where Sunday tastes linger are the only places you’ll hear someone order riggies.
This is chicken riggies, creamy hot pepper tomato sauce over rigatoni, a Central New York specialty that never made it big elsewhere. Riggies, medium heat is the safe call, though some folks go mild or hot depending on their tolerance.
Banana peppers set the tone, medium keeps flavor first, heat second. I had riggies at a church fundraiser once, and I went back for thirds.
The sauce clings to every ridged tube of pasta, the chicken is tender, and the peppers add just enough kick to keep things interesting.
16. Half-moons
Utica bakeries perfumed with cocoa and sugar are where you’ll find half-moon cookies, chocolate and vanilla icing on a cakey base.
Two half-moons, one chocolate base is how regulars order, because the chocolate-base version eats fudgier and pairs perfectly with milk or diner coffee.
The cookie itself is soft, almost spongy, and the icing is thick enough to leave a sweet film on your teeth. I used to buy these by the dozen and freeze them, eating one whenever I needed a taste of upstate.
Half-moons are nostalgia you can hold in your hand, black and white, simple and sweet, just like New York itself.