The Worst Signature Foods From 6 U.S. States, Ranked by Critics
Every state in America has its culinary pride. Its go-to dish. The thing grandma made, the thing your local diner puts on a T-shirt. Honestly, most of the time that regional food pride is earned. Sometimes, though, it really, really isn’t.
Food critics, travel writers, and regular people across the internet have been sounding the alarm for years about certain state “signature” dishes that stretch the definition of edible. We’re ranking the worst offenders, not to be cruel, but because someone had to say it. Let’s dive in.
No. 6 – New Jersey: The Sloppy Joe That Isn’t a Sloppy Joe
Here’s the thing about the New Jersey Sloppy Joe. If you order one expecting the hot, tomato-y, loose ground beef on a bun most people know, you will be left confused. What arrives is a cold, double or triple-decker rye bread sandwich stuffed with two different cold cuts, two slices of Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing slathered over coleslaw. That is technically not sloppy. That is technically not a Joe. Critics from outside the Garden State have struggled with this identity crisis for decades.
In New Jersey, the term “sloppy joe” does not refer to the popular sandwich filled with ground beef and tomato sauce. This deli classic was invented in Town Hall Delicatessen in South Orange, New Jersey, and the double-decker rye bread sandwich typically contains two types of sliced deli meat, Swiss cheese, coleslaw, and Russian dressing. The origin story is murky at best. The mayor of Maplewood, New Jersey at the time, Thomas Sweeney, spent some time at a Havana bar called Sloppy Joe’s, where he was served a multilayer cocktail sandwich, and the rest is cold-cut history. Outsiders consistently call it baffling. Locals swear by it. Food platform TasteAtlas placed it among the worst-rated American foods based on legitimate audience reviews, which tells you something.
No. 5 – Minnesota: Cookie Salad (Yes, That’s What They Call It)
Let’s be real. The word “salad” should come with a certain set of expectations. Vegetables, maybe a dressing, something that at least pretends to be healthy. Minnesota’s Cookie Salad throws all of that out the window, and critics have taken notice. Originating from Minnesota, cookie salad is a simple dessert made by combining fudge stripe shortbread cookies, buttermilk, vanilla pudding, whipped cream, and mandarin oranges. Additional ingredients may include berries, but Oreo cookies are strictly prohibited.
I know it sounds crazy, but this dish actually shows up at potlucks and family dinners across the state with complete seriousness. For TasteAtlas’s “100 Worst Rated American Foods” list until March 2026, a total of 65,683 ratings were recorded, of which 59,755 were recognized by the system as legitimate, and Cookie Salad appeared prominently on that list. The disconnect between calling something a “salad” while loading it with cookies, whipped cream, and pudding has baffled outsiders for generations. It’s the culinary equivalent of wearing pajamas to a job interview and calling it business casual.
No. 4 – Missouri: St. Louis-Style Pizza and Its Infamous Provel Cheese
St. Louis-style pizza is one of the most controversial dishes in American food culture, and not in a good, exciting way. St. Louis-style pizza is made with a thin, unleavened crust topped with a sweet tomato sauce and Provel cheese, which is Swiss, cheddar, and provolone combined with liquid smoke. It is typically served as a square rather than a slice. That Provel cheese is the sticking point for nearly every food critic who ventures into Missouri with an open mind and leaves with a confused palate.
This distinctive pizza features a cracker-thin crust, Provel processed cheese, and square-cut pieces that divide Missouri more effectively than any sports rivalry. The ultra-thin, crispy-to-the-point-of-shattering crust and the love-it-or-hate-it Provel cheese, a processed combination of cheddar, Swiss, and provolone, creates passionate detractors. Culinary observers have noted that Missouri doesn’t have a lot to offer in regional cuisine and that St. Louis pizza just seems like trying too hard. The pizza consists of a cracker base topped with sweet tomato sauce and Provel cheese. Locals are proud of this invention, but there is a good reason why you won’t find this pizza anywhere outside of Missouri.
No. 3 – Ohio: Cincinnati Chili Divides the Nation
Cincinnati Chili is perhaps the most vigorously defended, most ferociously attacked regional food in the entire United States. Cincinnati chili, the dish spooned up at the wildly popular regional franchise Skyline Chili, is alternately beloved and hated. It is a meat-based chili that is sweet, strange, and often served atop a bed of spaghetti. That last part is the part that sends traditional chili lovers straight into a spiral. Chili. On spaghetti. With cinnamon in it.
Cincinnati chili originated from the culinary exploits of immigrants from Greece, including brothers Tom and John Kiradjieff. In 1922, the pair opened Empress Chili Parlor in downtown Cincinnati and served a dish similar to a traditional Greek stew, combining Mediterranean spices like cloves and cinnamon with chili powder. The historical context is genuinely interesting. The taste, though, remains deeply polarizing. Many chili traditionalists, especially lovers of chili con carne, are put off by the mild taste and unique sweetness of Cincinnati chili. Others say their stomachs can’t handle the chili’s unsavory look, as its watery consistency makes it look more like a meat sauce than a hearty bowl. One reporter famously called it “abominable garbage-gravy,” and while that may be harsh, the reaction from food critics outside Ohio has consistently been one of genuine bewilderment.
No. 2 – Iowa: Deep-Fried Butter on a Stick
There are bad food ideas. Then there are ideas so aggressively bad they loop back around to being almost impressive. Iowa’s deep-fried butter on a stick belongs firmly in the second category. People in Iowa put their butter on a stick, dip it in cinnamon honey, and deep fry it. One food observer described it as one of the least healthy meals encountered across five years of American food travel. It is essentially a delivery mechanism for pure saturated fat, coated in more fat, and then fried.
Americans love butter, but eating deep-fried butter is not only widely considered disgusting but also detrimental to one’s health. Variations of fried butter appear in a couple of other states, but Iowa’s version tops them all. Think of it this way: butter is a condiment. A supporting player. A finishing touch. Making it the star of the dish is like casting a lampshade as the lead in a movie. It makes no sense, and food critics have been pointing this out, loudly, for years. The Iowa State Fair’s fried butter on a stick has become a kind of cultural shorthand for American excess at its most unapologetic.
No. 1 – Minnesota (Again): Lutefisk, the Dish That Breaks People
Minnesota earns a second appearance on this list, and this time it earns the top spot. Lutefisk is a traditional Scandinavian dish that took root in Minnesota through the state’s large community of Nordic settlers, and it has been disturbing outsiders ever since. Lutefisk is cod soaked in lye for preservation. It is boiled, served with potatoes, and covered in melted butter. One diner described its texture as “boiled snot,” and it remains a big Christmas delicacy among Scandinavians in Minnesota.
The “soaked in lye” part of the preparation process is the detail that tends to stop people cold. Lye. As in a caustic chemical solution. The fish is soaked in it until it takes on a gelatinous, translucent quality that is, let’s say, deeply unconventional. YouGov research found that the foods topped by the largest shares of dislikes among American adults include liver at 54 percent and sardines at 52 percent, yet lutefisk consistently generates a level of revulsion that puts it in a category of its own. It is perhaps the most universally shocking signature food in the country when placed in front of someone who didn’t grow up with it, which is exactly why critics and food writers have repeatedly put it at the very top of the worst-in-class lists. Minnesota is a great state. Lutefisk is, well, lutefisk.
