9 Regional Midwest Foods To Skip, And 9 That Absolutely Deliver
The Midwest is known for comfort food that warms the soul, but not every regional dish hits the mark.
Some recipes have fallen victim to overhype or outdated twists, leaving diners wishing for something better. Luckily, plenty of local classics still deliver big flavor and nostalgia on every plate.
Whether you’re craving a true taste of the heartland or trying to avoid a culinary miss, knowing which dishes shine and which to skip makes all the difference.
1. Lutefisk
The Norwegian nightmare that haunted my childhood Christmases! This gelatinous fish monstrosity is literally cod soaked in lye until it achieves the consistency of quivering fish Jell-O.
Midwestern Scandinavian communities keep this tradition alive despite its powerful ammonia smell and texture that can only be described as ‘aquatic pudding.’
Even most Norwegians have abandoned ship on this one.
2. Fried Brain Sandwich
Horrifying hospital cafeteria workers since the 1900s! Once common throughout the Midwest, these battered and fried slices of cow brain on bread now lurk primarily in parts of Indiana and Missouri.
Looking like a bizarre, oversized pork tenderloin, the texture resembles scrambled eggs if they were made of nightmares.
Mad cow disease concerns led many restaurants to switch to pork brains, which is hardly reassuring when you’re eating literal gray matter.
3. Pickled Bologna
Floating in jars of vinegary brine like science experiments gone wrong, these pink meat tubes haunt gas station counters across the rural Midwest.
One bite unleashes an unholy trinity of salt, vinegar, and processed meat flavors that will linger for hours.
Often sliced into rounds and served with crackers, this mystery meat belongs to the same culinary family as pickled eggs and pig’s feet. Consider this a gas station snack that should remain behind the glass jar.
4. Tater Tot Hotdish
The frozen, sodium-bomb versions give this Minnesota classic a bad name.
Canned cream-of-something soup mixed with ground beef and frozen vegetables, then topped with processed tater tots creates a beige disaster that tastes primarily of salt and nostalgia.
Church basement versions often sit for hours under fluorescent lights, the tots surrendering their crispness to become soggy potato mush.
While homemade versions with quality ingredients can be transcendent comfort food, the mass-produced shortcuts result in a bland, mushy casserole that exemplifies the worst stereotypes of Midwest cuisine.
5. Jell-O Pretzel Salad
Neither a salad nor particularly pretzel-forward, this layered concoction defies culinary logic yet appears at countless Midwest gatherings.
A buttery pretzel crust supports a middle layer of sweetened cream cheese, topped with fruit-suspended Jell-O – usually strawberry or raspberry. The textural whiplash from crunchy to creamy to jiggly creates culinary confusion.
The pretzel layer inevitably absorbs moisture and loses its integrity, creating a soggy bottom that Paul Hollywood would certainly criticize.
6. Snickers Salad
Whoever first decided to chop candy bars into whipped cream and call it “salad” deserves both respect and nutritional counseling.
This potluck staple combines chopped Snickers bars, apples, whipped topping, and sometimes pudding mix into a sugar bomb masquerading as a side dish.
Midwesterners will place this next to actual vegetables with a straight face.
The texture becomes increasingly concerning as it sits, with the caramel and nougat dissolving into the cream while the chocolate forms strange little islands.
7. Watergate Salad
Looking like something the Grinch might serve for dinner, this radioactive green concoction somehow became a holiday tradition despite its alarming appearance.
The mysterious blend of pistachio pudding, crushed pineapple, marshmallows, and Cool Whip has absolutely nothing to do with the political scandal. Nobody knows why we call it “salad” when it’s clearly a dessert.
The texture can only be described as “aggressively soft” with occasional marshmallow surprises, like eating sweetened cloud matter that’s been dyed the color of a nuclear accident.
8. Ambrosia Salad
The technicolor nightmare of church basement potlucks! This sugary time capsule from the 1950s combines canned fruit, coconut, marshmallows, and enough Cool Whip to frost a small wedding cake.
Each spoonful delivers a textural rollercoaster – slimy mandarin oranges, rubbery marshmallows, and stringy coconut all suspended in dairy-adjacent foam.
Despite its heavenly name (ambrosia was the food of Greek gods), this creation is firmly earthbound, leaving a film on the roof of your mouth that no amount of punch can wash away.
9. Bologna Salad Spread
Meat should never be whipped into submission with mayonnaise – yet here we are.
This pink paste combines ground bologna with enough mayo to make it spreadable, plus sweet pickle relish for questionable texture variation.
Popular at Midwest family gatherings where it’s smeared on white bread or Ritz crackers.
The consistency falls somewhere between tuna salad and pâté, if pâté were made from the mystery meat of childhood sandwiches. One bite transports you straight back to your great-aunt’s paneled basement in 1978.
10. Cincinnati Chili
Forget everything you know about chili – this Mediterranean-spiced meat sauce was created by Greek immigrants and bears little resemblance to its Texan cousin.
Cinnamon, allspice, and sometimes chocolate create a uniquely fragrant profile that divides first-timers into passionate converts or confused skeptics.
The genius lies in the “way” system: two-way (spaghetti and chili), three-way (add cheese), four-way (add onions), or five-way (add beans).
A proper Cincinnati parlor serves it with oyster crackers and optional hot sauce, creating a cultural institution worth crossing state lines for.
11. St. Louis Toasted Ravioli
Legend claims these were born when a chef accidentally dropped regular ravioli into hot oil – proving some mistakes deserve gold medals.
Beef-filled pasta squares are breaded, deep-fried to golden perfection, and served with marinara for dipping.
The contrast between the crunchy exterior and tender pasta and meat interior creates an irresistible textural masterpiece.
Found everywhere from fancy restaurants to sports bars in St. Louis, these addictive morsels make regular ravioli seem like they’re missing something essential – namely, a crispy, seasoned crust.
12. Michigan Pasties
Cornish miners brought these handheld meat pies to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, creating the ultimate portable lunch for underground work.
The golden, flaky crust encases a simple filling of meat, potatoes, rutabaga, and onions – hearty fuel designed to sustain through hard labor.
Each UP town claims their version reigns supreme, but all follow the same principle: no-nonsense, stick-to-your-ribs comfort.
Locals debate whether ketchup or gravy is the proper accompaniment, but they agree on one thing – these hand pies represent the soul of Yooper cuisine.
13. Detroit-Style Pizza
Born in auto parts pans, this rectangular masterpiece features an audacious architectural achievement: the crispy cheese crown.
Cheese is spread all the way to the edges where it caramelizes against the pan, creating a lacy, crunchy border that will ruin you for regular pizza crusts.
The thick, airy dough has a satisfying chew, while Wisconsin brick cheese delivers tangy depth.
Traditionalists top it with racing stripes of tomato sauce after baking, creating distinct layers of flavor instead of the usual sauce-cheese stack.
14. Kansas City Burnt Ends
Barbecue alchemy at its finest! These crispy, caramelized cubes of brisket point were once considered throwaway cuts until Kansas City pitmasters discovered their magical potential.
Smoke-kissed and bark-covered outside, meltingly tender inside – each bite delivers an intense beef flavor bomb.
The transformation from tough meat to carnivorous candy requires patience and skill, with hours of low-and-slow smoking followed by a final rendering that creates barbecue perfection.
15. Indiana Pork Tenderloin Sandwich
Comically oversized and gloriously crispy, this Hoosier classic features a pork cutlet pounded thin, breaded, and fried until it dwarfs the bun by ridiculous proportions.
First-timers often laugh at the absurd meat-to-bun ratio – a good tenderloin should extend at least two inches beyond the bread in all directions.
The perfect version has a craggy, crispy coating that shatters with each bite, while the pork inside remains juicy.
Add just yellow mustard and pickles – anything more would be Midwestern sacrilege. The sandwich requires strategic eating techniques to avoid wearing half of it home.
16. Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza
More like a savory pie than what most folks call pizza, this Chicago icon features walls of buttery crust holding an upside-down marvel of ingredients.
Cheese forms the foundation, toppings sit in the middle, and tangy tomato sauce crowns the top.
Eating your first slice feels like a religious experience – one that requires a knife and fork. Locals debate endlessly about Lou Malnati’s versus Giordano’s, but either way, you’re in for a life-changing meal.
17. Wisconsin Cheese Curds
Fresh cheese curds announce themselves with a distinctive squeak against your teeth – nature’s way of telling you they’re perfectly fresh.
The ultimate Wisconsin road trip snack comes in two glorious forms: fresh from the dairy or beer-battered and fried. Nothing compares to pulling over at a roadside cheese factory for a bag still warm from production.
The fried version transforms these dairy treasures into molten pockets of cheese with a crispy exterior that puts mozzarella sticks to shame.
18. Chicago Italian Beef
Gloriously messy and impossibly flavorful, this Chicago masterpiece features paper-thin slices of seasoned roast beef piled on French bread and topped with giardiniera or sweet peppers.
Ordering it “dipped” means the entire sandwich takes a bath in seasoned beef jus – a structural challenge that rewards with flavor intensity.
The proper eating stance (aka the “Italian Stance”) requires leaning forward 45 degrees over the counter to avoid wearing the jus home.
The spicy-savory-beefy combination with the contrast of crunchy pickled vegetables creates a sandwich experience that defines Chicago street food at its finest.