Forget Einstein’s theory of relativity. The world’s greatest, most comprehensive equation is this: snacks = happiness. It’s that simple (and legend has it that it was discovered after devouring an entire bag of Cheetos). Inspired by that ultimate food pairing, we set out to tell you about irresistible salty, sweet, crunchy, creamy nibbles across the country that are worth their weight in glee. What’s not simple? Starting with a list of possibilities that numbers, roughly, infinity.
So we applied some criteria. We focused on snacks that are freshly made, not mass-produced. (For the record, though, Ho Hos rule.) We left out items that could be thought of as a full meal. (Appetizers? In. Pizza? Sadly, out.) And we favored food you could eat with your hands. (Sorry, pies.)
More than anything, though, we wanted our picks to reflect another undeniable truth: that when we travel, snacks are truly special when they speak to the flavors or traditions of their region, evoking a sense of place. That led us to sublime seafood in the Northeast, greasy goodness in the South, and nachos you could only get in New Mexico.
Did we miss some sweet spots? Did we ever. Join the conversation via our #SouthwestSnacks Sweepstakes. In the meantime, happy munching.
Southeast
Boudin Balls
/ New Orleans
Cajun perfection? Look no further than these beloved fried orbs of pork sausage, onions, and rice. Grab a few at Toups’ Meatery in New Orleans.
Chicken Wings
/ Nashville, Tennessee
At Lockeland Table, General Hal’s wings fall off the bone in one saucy bite that marries sweet and heat. But get there early: Chef Hal Holden-Bache’s take on General Tso’s chicken is available only 4–6 p.m., Monday to Saturday.
Hushpuppies
/ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Chef Bill Smith makes this Southern classic shine at Crook’s Corner, where his jalapeno-cheddar version comes with a kick and homemade cocktail sauce.
Plantains
/ Miami Beach, Florida
At Havana 1957, expertly salted plantain chips come with your meal. Take it up a notch with the tostones rellenos—thick-cut green plantains stuffed with different fillings such as ropa vieja, a Cuban-style stewed beef.
Southwest
Nachos
/ Albuquerque, New Mexico
Red or green? At Nexus Brewery, the nachos arrive smothered with your choice of chile and are served with ground beef, chicken, or pulled pork. Pro tip: If you can’t pick a type of chile, spring for “Christmas style”— a mix of both.
Cactus Fries
/ Sedona, Arizona
The plant that’s synonymous with the Southwest is also a staple in desert cuisine. At Sedona’s Cowboy Club, the spiky shrub is sliced, flash-fried, and served with a fuchsia prickly pear dipping sauce.
Fruit Cup
/ San Antonio
After exploring the historic San Antonio missions, head to Fruteria La Mission. At the walk-up window, order a mix of freshly cut favorites—from mango and pineapple to coconut and cucumber—and then douse them with chile salt, lime juice, or chamoy, a sweet and spicy condiment made from pickled fruit.
Chicharróns
/ El Paso, Texas
Cracklins, pork rinds, chicharróns. Whatever you call them, deep-fried pig skins are a must in the South. For three generations, the folks at Martinez Brand Cracklings have been selling the crunchy treat, as well as carnitas and a fiery salsa, at their shop north of the Rio Grande.
Here’s to …
Boiled peanuts
It’s the texture that freaks some people out. But to understand—and ultimately love—the boiled peanut, divorce yourself from the crumbly favorite at baseball games and embrace it as a soft legume, caressed by wood-fired flame and educated with salt and time. Jason Clemmon is the owner of Sunrise Grocery, a general store in the North Georgia mountains that’s been around since the 1920s. He keeps a cauldron of boiled peanuts over a fire out front. The nuts cook in brine an entire day. This can’t be rushed. At Nashville’s Black Rabbit, chef Trey Cioccia serves a swankier version, cooked with a fermented variation of his grandfather’s barbecue sauce, and you can pop the entire thing in your mouth, soft shell and all. Both methods evoke a slower place and time, when I can practically hear the crunch of gravel under tires as my dad and I pull over for a bag, drawn by aromas of fire, earth, and fresh mountain air.
—Jennifer Justus
Northeast
Oysters
/ Boston
Located in the once-industrial Fort Point district, Row 34 adds color to its fried oysters by serving them on lettuce cups with pickled veggies. After breaking for bivalves, make the 10-minute walk to Fan Pier Park—the water views are waiting.
Pretzel Bites
/ Philadelphia
Knots, twists, sticks, rolls—in all their forms, pretzels have been delighting diners since 600 A.D.—or so the story goes. In the City of Brotherly Love, Strangelove’s adds toasted anise seed and brown butter to its soft bites, and then pairs them with house-made mustard.
Cider Doughnuts
/ Guilford, Connecticut
Once you’re done picking your own apples, treat yourself to one (or, let’s be realistic, a few) of Bishop’s Orchards’ doughnuts, made with cider from the orchards. Don’t fret if picking season is over; the market is open year-round.
Brown Butter Lobster Roll
/ Portland, Maine
Raw bar Eventide forgoes tradition in favor of a more innovative approach—warm lobster meat is dressed in a lemony brown butter vinaigrette and served atop an Asian-style steamed bun. An added bonus: The smaller-than-usual size makes it ideal to enjoy between meals.
Here’s to …
Water ice
All ice is water, not all water is ice, and neither one is water ice, the weirdly named treat indigenous to greater Philadelphia. Water ice is a cousin to Italian ice, but while both originated with early 20th-century Italian immigrants, water ice’s semi-frozen consistency sets it apart. Too slushy to hold a scoop and too solid to drink with a straw, it’s served in waxed cups with spoons (though locals cut out the middleman by creasing their cup like a milk carton). Many a Philly kid, careless with a black cherry or chocolate, has ruined a pair of fresh Reebok Classics this way. Get it at independent stands like 73-year-old John’s, O.G. and maker of a superior pineapple, and Bucks County’s Yardley Ice House. Every Philadelphian has their favorite stand. Mine is inside L. Mancuso & Son cheese shop, where owner Phil Mancuso shovels bittersweet lemon from a seasonal sidewalk window, same as when I was a kid. —Adam Erace
Midwest
Tater tots
/ Milwaukee, Wisconsin
By adding caviar, a dollop of sour cream, and a handful of chives, Snack Boys has engineered an elevated take on tots. You can order them with a fried bologna slider.
Toasted ravioli
/ St. Louis
Don’t let the name fool you: These tasty squares, which date as far back as the 1930s, are fried, not toasted. Salt + Smoke takes them to the next level, stuffing the crispy “ravs” with burnt ends—flavorful pieces of brisket.
Buckeyes
/ Columbus, Ohio
Located in Columbus’ historic German Village, Schmidt’s Fudge Haus has been a neighborhood staple since 1960. To make its signature buckeye candy, this confectionery hand-dips creamy peanut butter balls in Belgian chocolate.
Pasties
/ Detroit
First brought to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula by Cornish miners, the pasty (pronounced PASS-tee) served as easy-to-carry sustenance on the job. The hearty treat—a pocket of meat, potatoes, and veggies wrapped in a flaky pastry crust—made it down to Detroit by way of food truck, thanks to Motor City Pasty Company.
Here’s to …
Cheese curds
Ask a Wisconsinite about cheese curds and you’ll get an earful, if not a mouthful. Everyone’s got a story, a tradition, or an almost religious preference. Fresh cheese curds—solid pieces of curdled milk—are small, salty, and chewy, so texturally satisfying that, while your teeth are still working, your hand instinctively reaches for another. In a state that produces more than 3 billion pounds of cheese annually, the choices on how to consume cheese curds never end. Some dip them in marinara at roadside drive-ins. Others get a bag at a farmers market or munch samples at cheese factories. You’ll find them at restaurants, fairs, cookouts. But the fried variation marries two great traditions: agriculture and deep frying. “The real Wisconsin play,” one friend told me, “is to get a burger and, in lieu of fries, get cheese curds.” And really, what could be more American than that? —Jeff Ruby
West
Huckleberry ice cream
/ Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
In the summer, huckleberries blanket the Northern Rockies and locals search for the treat that’s sweeter than a blueberry. Can’t forage? Abi’s Artisan Ice Cream serves fruit-filled scoops, along with sundaes drizzled with a huckleberry glaze.
Deviled eggs
/ San Francisco
No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you. The deviled eggs at Biergarten really are hot pink—and they’re as flavorful as they are colorful. This pickled take on the hard-boiled bites is best enjoyed with a Bavarian beer on the spacious patio.
Mixed nuts
/ Seattle
Canon lures in patrons with its world-class selection of spirits—the collection currently tops 4,000 labels—but the whiskey bar’s food menu is just as impressive in its own right. The Angostura-bourbon nuts include cashews, pretzels, and caramel corn, which combine for an enviable mix of sweet and salty.
Jerky
/ Denver
Thanks to its shelf life and light weight, jerky has long held a special place in the rough-and-tumble American West. Located in the city’s trendy River North Art District, Rebel Restaurant sells its homemade jerky by the ounce.