Ever wondered why certain foods instantly transport you back to childhood or make you feel safe during tough times? Those dishes we call comfort foods have stories far more complex and fascinating than we might imagine. The comfort food concept emerged during the latter half of the twentieth century. Although not well defined, CF can be described as familiar foods that elicit feelings of well-being and play a role in social interactions and psychological health.
The young actress reportedly helped popularize the modern usage of the now-well-worn phrase, comfort food. “Comfort food is anything you just yum, yum, yum,” she told syndicated newspaper food columnist Johna Blinn, smacking her lips together. Liza Minnelli’s casual definition hardly captures the deep historical roots these beloved dishes possess. This isn’t the only surprising origin story to the comfort foods we know and love and eat regularly around the globe. In fact, if you scratch the surface of a lot of recipes, there are many odd origin stories that are the result of larger forces of history – colonialism, war, the end of empires – bringing together two unlikely or surprising culinary cultures.
Let’s embark on a culinary journey through time to discover the forgotten origins of our .
Pizza: The Ancient Egyptian Foundation
Pizza might seem like the most Italian food imaginable, yet its roots stretch back thousands of years before Naples even existed. The origins of pizza can be traced back to ancient civilizations such as the Egyptians, Greeks, and Persians. In ancient Egypt, flatbreads were cooked and topped with various ingredients such as herbs, spices, and olive oil.
Recently, archaeologists made an intriguing discovery in Pompeii, the ancient Roman city, that has shed new light on the potential origins of this iconic culinary delight. Unearthed during excavations, a 2,000-year-old fresco depicting a flatbread has provided valuable insights into the evolution of pizza. Although it lacks the precise ingredients of a modern pizza, this ancient flatbread offers a captivating glimpse into the culinary practices of ancient Rome.
What’s truly surprising is how these early flatbreads served as survival food for working classes. Although known as a well-off city, the kingdom was densely packed with throngs of working poor, who typically had only tiny homes to call their own. The workers required inexpensive food that could be consumed quickly, since they were consistently busy. Thus, pizza, flatbreads with various toppings, eaten for any meal and sold by street vendors or informal restaurants, met this need.
It wasn’t until tomatoes were introduced to Europe from the Americas in the 16th century that pizza as we know it today started to take shape. Adding tomatoes to the flatbread created the classic Margherita pizza, named after Queen Margherita of Savoy in a story that, while popular, is considered more legend than verified history. Imagine if Queen Margherita had refused to try this peasant food – we might never have had the pizza explosion that followed.
Macaroni and Cheese: Ancient Roman Sophistication
Long before kraft boxes graced grocery store shelves, macaroni and cheese had a surprisingly aristocratic past. Macaroni and cheese, a cherished comfort dish, has ancient ties that are as rich and complex as its flavors. The quest to discover its origins takes us back to ancient Rome, where the earliest known combination of pasta and cheese was recorded. Ancient Roman cookbooks describe early pasta and cheese combinations, with Marcus Porcius Cato’s “De Agri Cultura” documenting various layered dishes, a distant ancestor to our beloved mac and cheese.
The dish evolved through medieval times in fascinating ways. Legend has it, the first sign of a mac-and-cheese-adjacent recipe was in the 13th century, in a book called Liber de Coquina, believed to have been written by two authors: one French, and one Italian. This wasn’t the creamy casserole we know today but something closer to lasagna, with sheets of pasta layered with raw cheese.
Its origins trace back to cheese and pasta casseroles in medieval England. The transformation from elite European dish to American comfort food happened through an unexpected route. James Hemings was a pioneering chef who cooked in the kitchen of one of America’s first presidents. A Black man enslaved by Thomas Jefferson (who also happened to be the half-brother of Jefferson’s wife), Hemings was taken to Paris when Jefferson served as U.S. ambassador. There, Hemings apprenticed with French chefs and mastered elite cooking techniques– including a version of macaroni and cheese built on béchamel and Gruyère. When Hemings returned with Jefferson to Monticello, he brought the dish stateside. Though Jefferson often receives the credit, it was Hemings’s skill that gave mac and cheese its first true foothold in the United States.
Tacos al Pastor: Lebanese Migration Legacy
One of Mexico’s most beloved street foods actually owes its existence to Middle Eastern immigrants fleeing Ottoman collapse. The Ottoman Empire occupied Lebanon beginning in the 16th century, and when the empire crumbled in the wake of World War I, it sent the region into chaos, including Beirut, the biggest city in the area. Many Lebanese people fled the region, some going as far as North America.
For those who ended up in Mexico – and tens of thousands of Lebanese people did – they brought with them their recipe and technique for roasting meat, which consists of slowly turning a hunk of lamb on an upright spit – like what you see at kabob shop. The locals loved it – so much so that Mexicans began making it themselves but switched out the lamb for pork and the pita for a tortilla. They renamed this reconditioned recipe “tacos al pastor,” the “pastor” a reference to lamb, in honor of the dish’s origins. After the addition of chunks of pineapple, plus some salsa, eventually the taco al pastor spread across Mexican menus.
This fusion demonstrates how comfort foods often emerge from displacement and adaptation. The Lebanese immigrants didn’t just preserve their culinary traditions – they transformed them based on local ingredients and tastes, creating something entirely new. And of course, as this delicious dish spread through migration, tacos al pastor are now likely to be on the menu of the taqueria nearest to your home, wherever in the world you live.
Tempura: Portuguese Missionary Influence
Japan’s beloved tempura technique has roots that might surprise sushi lovers everywhere. During lengthy trips at sea, one of the sailors’ favorite foods was peixinhos da horta because it was fried and therefore better preserved. Portuguese sailors brought this battered and fried preparation to Japan during their 16th-century voyages.
Portuguese people would also eat peixinhos da horta around the time of Lent, or ad tempora cuaresma in Latin, because eating these fried morsels felt like they were still eating meat, which is verboten during Lent. The term “ad tempora” eventually became “tempura” in Japanese. What started as a clever way for Portuguese Catholics to feel like they weren’t breaking Lenten fasting rules became one of Japan’s most refined cooking techniques.
The Japanese didn’t just adopt this method – they perfected it, creating the light, crispy batter we associate with tempura today. This shows how comfort foods don’t just migrate; they evolve and improve, becoming better than their origins.
Pad Thai: Chinese Immigration and National Identity
Thailand’s national dish carries a name that means “Thai-style stir-fried noodles,” yet its core technique isn’t Thai at all. What makes this story even more interesting is that when you take a deeper look at Thai culinary history, there’s something unexpected about pad thai. Rice is the staple food of Thailand. While much of the flavor profile of pad thai is Thai and the sauces and pastes that some chefs add to the dish are also of Thai origins, the base of the dish – the stir-frying of noodles in a wok – is Chinese. What is still known as the Thai national dish – pad thai (nearly every non-Thai person’s first introduction to Thai cuisine) – likely came from the Chinatown in Bangkok, where thousands of ethnic Chinese still reside.
This culinary adoption happened during a period when Thailand was actively building its national identity. The government promoted pad thai as uniquely Thai, despite its Chinese cooking technique. Sometimes comfort foods become symbols of national pride, even when their origins tell a more complex story of cultural exchange and immigration.
The dish perfectly demonstrates how comfort foods can be politically constructed while still providing genuine emotional satisfaction to those who eat them.
Pho: French Colonial Fusion
Vietnam’s soul-warming noodle soup carries the unmistakable influence of French colonialism in its very foundation. By 1864, France had taken all of southern Vietnam, then took control of northern Vietnam in 1887, and formed French Indochina. Yet, even this far from home, the Gallic nationals couldn’t live without their baguettes and pâté. And so it’s no surprise that in Indochina, of which Vietnam had been a part, French food products followed the French wherever they planted their tricolored flag.
French beef-eating culture introduced the concept of beef broth to Vietnamese cuisine, where pork and chicken had been the primary proteins. The slow-simmered bone broths that form pho’s foundation mirror French pot-au-feu techniques. Even the rice noodles, while Asian, gained popularity during this period.
The aromatic star anise and cinnamon in pho reflect the spice trade routes that French colonialism facilitated. What emerged wasn’t just Vietnamese or French, but a genuine fusion that became more comforting than either component could have been alone. Pho represents how colonialism, while destructive in many ways, sometimes created unexpected culinary beauty.
Currywurst: Post-War Innovation
Berlin’s beloved street food emerged from the chaos and creativity of post-World War II reconstruction. In 1949, Herta Heuwer reportedly created currywurst at her food cart in Berlin’s Charlottenburg district.
Heuwer took British Worcestershire sauce, American ketchup, and curry powder likely brought by British troops, then poured this improvised mixture over sliced German sausage. The result was currywurst – a dish that somehow captures the international occupation of Berlin in edible form.
This comfort food emerged from scarcity and resourcefulness. Heuwer didn’t have access to traditional German ingredients but created something new from whatever international products she could find. Currywurst shows how comfort foods can emerge from the most unlikely circumstances, transforming limitation into innovation.
The dish spread throughout Germany and became emblematic of resilient German spirit – the ability to find comfort and create something uniquely local even during foreign occupation.
Chicken Tikka Masala: British-Indian Restaurant Culture
Britain’s most popular “Indian” dish might actually be more British than Indian, created in the kitchens of immigrant restaurateurs adapting to local tastes. While its exact origin remains disputed, most food historians agree it emerged in British curry houses during the 1960s and 1970s.
The dish represents the compromise between authentic Indian flavors and British palates unaccustomed to intense spice. Indian chefs created a tomato-based, creamy sauce that delivered familiar flavors while introducing British diners to Indian spice combinations. This wasn’t traditional Indian food, nor was it purely British – it was something entirely new.
In the United States, the melting pot of cultures introduced soul food from African American traditions, like collard greens and cornbread, which have origins in West African cooking. Similarly, the Great Migration spread Southern comfort food across the rest of the country, embedding it in the national cuisine. Chicken tikka masala shows how immigrant communities create comfort foods that bridge their heritage with their new home’s expectations.
The dish became so popular that it’s now considered Britain’s national dish, demonstrating how comfort foods can become more “native” than foods that actually originated in a place.
Ramen: Chinese Noodles, Japanese Soul
Japan’s ultimate comfort food began as Chinese hand-pulled noodles brought by immigrants in the early 20th century. Japan’s ramen, initially Chinese, has become a Japanese staple. The dish’s adaptability allowed it to flourish in various forms, from the tonkotsu broth of Kyushu to the miso variant of Hokkaido.
What makes ramen’s story fascinating is how completely Japan transformed it. Chinese lamian became Japanese ramen through decades of innovation in broth-making, noodle preparation, and topping combinations. Regional variations emerged that have no Chinese equivalent – like the ultra-rich tonkotsu broth that requires nearly 24 hours of bone-cooking.
Ramen became a post-war comfort food for Japan’s rebuilding working class. Cheap, filling, and satisfying, it provided both physical and emotional nourishment during difficult times. Street-side ramen stalls became gathering places where people could find warmth, food, and community.
The transformation from Chinese import to Japanese cultural icon demonstrates how comfort foods become deeply embedded in national identity, sometimes more so than foods that actually originated there.
Fish and Chips: Jewish Refugee Contribution
Britain’s most iconic comfort food combination actually emerged from multiple immigration waves, including Sephardic Jews fleeing the Spanish Inquisition. Portuguese and Spanish Jewish communities brought pescado frito – battered and fried fish – to London in the 16th and 17th centuries.
The chip component came later, introduced by French and Belgian immigrants who brought their pommes frites traditions. The combination of fried fish with chips happened gradually throughout the 19th century as working-class Londoners discovered that these two immigrant foods complemented each other perfectly.
What makes fish and chips uniquely British isn’t its origins but how it became embedded in national culture. During World War II, fish and chips were among the few foods not rationed, making them a symbol of resilience and continuity during Britain’s darkest hours.
The dish spread throughout the British Commonwealth, becoming a comfort food that connected distant territories to the mother country. Today, fish and chips remain one of Britain’s most beloved exports, even though its components came from elsewhere.
Hungarian Goulash: Nomadic Horsemen Heritage
European comfort foods tell tales of long winters and the need for sustenance that warms from the inside out. Hungarian goulash, a humble herdsman’s stew, has become a symbol of national pride and comfort. This hearty dish traces back to 9th-century Magyar horsemen who needed portable, nutritious meals during their nomadic migrations across the European steppes.
The original gulyás was quite different from today’s restaurant versions. Magyar herdsmen would dry cubes of meat with salt, then cook them in portable kettles with whatever vegetables they could find or trade for. The iconic paprika that defines modern goulash wasn’t added until the 16th century, after Columbus brought peppers back from the Americas.
Goulash evolved from survival food to national symbol during Hungary’s struggle for independence from Austrian rule. The dish became a form of cultural resistance – a way of maintaining Hungarian identity while under foreign dominance. Cooking and sharing goulash became acts of patriotism.
The transformation shows how comfort foods can carry political meaning alongside their emotional significance. Today’s creamy, paprika-rich goulash serves as both nourishment and national memory, connecting modern Hungarians to their nomadic ancestors.
