How Italian Food Became an American Staple

1881-2023

Everybody loves Italian food. Yet the idea of a single Italian cuisine took time to coalesce, if it ever really has. Even after Italy’s unification in 1861, the country remained divided in the kitchen, with each of its twenty distinctive regions clinging to their own deeply-rooted culinary traditions. The first Italian cookbook, published in Florence in 1891, included only a couple of recipes for tomato sauce, a staple in the southern provinces.1 By the early 20th century, Italian restaurants were emerging more broadly in the United States, introducing a hybrid style that became known as Italian-American cuisine. While the classic dishes of this style remain popular, Italian food in America evolved in a myriad of ways, eventually challenging French cuisine at the top tier. Over fifty menus highlight some of the people and places behind this remarkable ascent.

 

The Sheik

New York City, 

1924-1954 

 

In 1913, Elias and Joseph Kirdahy opened the Kirdahy Brothers’ Oriental Restaurant on Washington Street in Lower Manhattan. The neighborhood, known as Little Syria, was the first Arab enclave in the United States. In the mid-1920s, the brothers renamed their restaurant The Sheik after Rudolph Valentino’s wildly popular silent film. According to legend, actor John Barrymore, a frequent guest, suggested the new name. The decision proved pivotal, sparking a trend among Arab American restaurateurs to adopt names drawn from Hollywood’s romanticized visions of the Arab world. The business card shown above and three menus recall this restaurant that, through the choice of a new name, rebranded itself in a way that helped shape American food culture.

Hang Me Up

1937

The history of takeout food dates back to ancient times, when street vendors sold ready-to-eat meals. Archaeological evidence reveals early examples, such as cook shops uncovered in the ruins of Pompeii and tamale stands in Aztec markets. By the 1920s, restaurants in the United States began to promote takeout. The earliest takeout menus emerged in the late 1930s, sometimes with a hole at the top, allowing them to be hung on a wall near the phone. Two menus illustrate this largely forgotten design feature.

Americans in Paris: The Roaring 20s

1920-1930 

The Roaring Twenties are remembered in France as les Années folles, “the crazy years,” when Paris was the hub of intellectual life and artistic innovation. Americans contributed their share of the craziness, considering the sheer number of expatriate authors, avant-garde artists, modern composers, jazz musicians, and wealthy socialites then living in Paris, as well as the throngs of tourists who descended on the city every summer. When the Americans returned home, they brought back enough memories to last a lifetime. Since their memories of Paris were entwined with its restaurants, they also carried back menus, souvenirs of their sojourn and of a cuisine that had all but vanished in the United States during Prohibition. A review of more than fifty menus reveals some of the bistros, brasseries, and temples of gastronomy where they dined. 

Sailing to France

1922

After the First World War, Americans travelled to France in ever increasing numbers. Five menus from the steamship Lafayette in 1922 illustrate the perceived romance of a transatlantic crossing.1 The trip began when the great ship was nudged out of her berth and pointed downstream toward the Atlantic. “Gentle vibrations tell you she is under way,” wrote one voyager of the era. “Small craft dip flags and toot as they go by; the Statue of Liberty, the shores of Staten Island, the flat back of Sandy Hook run past as though wound on rollers; the pilot goes over the side with a bag of farewell letters; a pursuing tug comes up and puts a tardy passenger aboard. Then, suddenly, like a sleep-walking dragon that wakes up, the liner shakes herself; her propellers lash the sea to suds; a wedge-shaped wake spreads out behind her, and the voyage is on in earnest.”2

The Menu was the Message

1904-1931 

The advent of the postcard provided the hospitality industry with innovative ways to advertise. One of the unique formats that emerged in the early 1900s was the attachment of postcards to menus. This concept was particularly suited to table d’hôtel menus that did not have prices. Once ubiquitous, table d’hôtel menus were still being used at hotels and resorts that operated on the so-called American Plan, meaning room and board were included in the daily rate. Such hostelries traditionally promoted the abundance of their board to attract guests, something the postcard-menu combination was ideally suited to do.

Charles Dickens in Boston

1842 & 1925

Charles Dickens was enthusiastically fêted when he visited the United States in 1842 and 1867-68.  For many years afterward, these grand affairs lingered in the collective memory of the novelist’s most ardent admirers, as revealed by a menu from a dinner of the Dickens’ Fellowship in Boston in 1925.

Economic Precarity

1864-1938 

One of the underlying themes of American ephemera is the expansion of the middle and upper classes. Over time, higher incomes and increased leisure time fostered a culture of consumption and new social customs like eating outside the home. Not surprisingly, menus become increasingly scarce as you descend the economic ladder. By the time you reach the lower classes and those living in poverty, such material evidence is practically nonexistent. Nevertheless, menus and photographs occasionally surface that reflect segments of the population being pushed from a livable life, often by a financial crisis or war.

Willis Morgan

Paris,
ca. 1928

Willis Morgan was among the several hundred thousand African-American soldiers sent to France during the First World War. Born in Marshall, Texas in 1877, Morgan worked as a chef in railroad dining cars and Harvey House restaurants prior to becoming a mess sergeant in the U.S. Army. He served in the Philippines, on the Mexico border, and finally on the Western Front. After the Armistice, Morgan settled in Paris as part of the small but steady stream of Black Americans attracted by wartime memories of French racial tolerance. He opened the Chicago Inn at 31 Avenue Bourdonnais in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Later renamed the Chicago-Texas Inn, the restaurant was a popular tourist destination in the Jazz Age. A scarce menu from the late 1920s reveals the down-home American cuisine at this welcoming restaurant where Morgan’s French-born wife worked the cash register while their pet cat looked on from his favorite spot nearby. 

The Waitress at Duval

Paris, 
1878-1923 

French impressionist Pierre-Auguste Renoir painted this portrait of a waitress at one of the Établissements Duval, a small chain of low-cost Parisian restaurants. The first location opened in 1854 when a butcher named Pierre Louis Duval started using meat scraps to make broths.1 The Établissements Duval were often called “Bouillons Duval” or “Établissements de Bouillon” in reference to this signature dish. However, the restaurants were best known for their women servers who wore black dresses, half hidden by aprons and snow-white bibs, and caps.2 In 1881, the Baedeker guidebook advised travelers that the servers were “soberly garbed, and not unlike sisters of charity.” Similarly, a journalist at the New York Times noted the “neat, nun-like uniforms” reminded him of what the cooks wore in the kitchen of the House of Commons.3,4 Three menus recall these restaurants that were once an integral part of the Parisian scene.

Echoes of the Jazz Age

 1919-1929 

“The Jazz Age is over,” declared novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1931, nine years after he coined the phrase. The prosperous era began in about November 1918, when the First World War ended, and continued unabated until the stock market crashed in October 1929.1 This period of cultural transformation marked the birth of modern America. Everyday life was broadly transformed by automobiles, telephones, motion pictures, radio programs, and household electricity. However, the arrival of modernity also sparked a powerful backlash. The conservative counterassault manifested itself in the anti-radical hysteria of the Red Scare, the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan, the ratification of National Prohibition, the passage of stricter immigration quotas, and the rise of Fundamentalism. Fifty menus reveal facets of this vast, complicated story. Some of them recall forgotten events; others provide unwitting evidence of societal issues that are with us to this day. 

The Halcyon Days of San Quentin

Marin County, California
1928-1940

One of the most intriguing things about old menus from San Quentin State Prison is that they were saved as mementos. The legendary prison, situated on the north side of San Francisco Bay, was established to hold miscreants during the Gold Rush. Over the years, it has grown large enough to warrant two ZIP codes—one for inmates (94974) and one for Point San Quentin Village (94964), an adjacent community originally built to house the prison’s employees and their families. The menus mostly come from the period between 1928, shortly after the East Block opened (now described as a crumbling, leaky maze) and 1940. A dozen menus and related ephemera take us back to this bygone era when the guards enjoyed the gustatory pleasures of the table.

The Heroic Age of Aviation

1924-1938

“The American seaplanes are in Calcutta,” the papers in India reported on June 27, 1924. Four U.S. Army planes had arrived at intervals the previous day, each flying low over the Hooghly River crowded with shipping, before making a graceful turn and alighting on an empty stretch of water opposite Prinsep Ghat where people lined the banks to witness their arrival. The aviators were making the first aerial circumnavigation of the world with the help of the U.S. Navy which was providing logistical support. Twelve weeks after taking off from Seattle, they had not yet reached the half way point of their mission. 

West Meets East

Chinese-American Restaurants
1896-1926

Chinese restaurants first opened in the United States during the California Gold Rush. In the early years, these modest eateries fell into two basic categories, serving Chinese food for Chinese immigrants or typical American fare for non-Chinese patrons. However, by the 1890s, a new style had emerged that we now call Chinese-American cuisine in which traditional Cantonese dishes were modified for the dominant American palate. Compared to traditional native dishes, this version of Chinese food utilized fewer ingredients and expressed a narrower range of textures. The most prominent adaptation was chop suey, comprising assorted pieces of meat or seafood, quickly stir fried with vegetables like bean sprouts, cabbage, and celery, and bound in a starch-thickened sauce.1 Even though this inexpensive dish quickly became popular, it wasn’t long before Chinese restaurateurs began putting a few Western-style dishes on their menus in order to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Eleven menus from the early twentieth century show how the culinary traditions of the two cultures slowly came together.

Wrong Way Corrigan

Los Angeles, 
1938

On a foggy morning in July 1938, a 31-year-old aircraft mechanic named Douglass Corrigan took off in a jerry-built plane from an airfield in Brooklyn. Disappearing into the haze, he carried with him some chocolate, two boxes of fig bars, one quart of water, and a U.S. map marked with a flight plan to California. Twenty-eight hours later, he landed in Dublin. Since he had repeatedly been denied permission to fly across the Atlantic, Corrigan told the authorities in Ireland that he left New York the previous day heading for the West Coast, but somehow “got mixed up in the clouds and must have flown the wrong way.” He theorized that the low-light conditions might have caused him to misread the compass. That was his story and he stuck to it. 

Longing for the Past

San Francisco, 
1923 

When menus are printed for a small get-together, they often reflect the underlying values of an individual or group, such as this charming menu from a dinner in June 1923 hosted by Camille Mailhebuau, Jr., eldest son of the famed restaurateur. His father had recently returned to San Francisco, opening his eponymous eatery on Pine Street, shown in the previous essay “A Moment in Time.” Although Camille Jr. describes this event as the “first dinner given to my friends,” as if he were marking a rite of passage in his epicurean family, the party was probably organized by his parents to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. It appears that his father planned this bill of fare and arranged to have the menus printed; the illustration is surprisingly old-fashioned for a youthful gathering during the Jazz Age. The image suggests a longing for the past, harkening back to the joyful time before Prohibition, when Champagne could be legally served in American restaurants, or perhaps even sipped while flying your “aeroplane.”

A Moment in Time

San Francisco, 
1920-1923

When I first saw this photograph, there was something intriguing about the scene that I couldn’t put my finger on. The inscription in the lower right-hand corner provided some information about the event—Camille and Eugenie Mailhebuau celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary at this dinner party on February 9, 1920. Camille was a French-born restaurateur who operated the venerable Old Poodle Dog in San Francisco. Camille and Eugenie can be seen at the middle of the long table, just behind the pretty cake. While the couple appears to be happy, some of guests look as if something is bothering them. Of course, it was entirely possible that the underlying anxiety that I perceived was a figment of my imagination. However, when a menu surfaced a few years later, showing where the dinner had been held and who was there, I realized what may have been on their minds that day, for the photograph marked a pivotal moment in the history of American restaurants.

Thanksgiving Confusion

1939-41 

In 1939, President Franklin Roosevelt declared that Thanksgiving would be held on the third Thursday of November, instead of the fourth, in order to extend the Christmas shopping season. The polls showed that sixty percent of Americans were opposed to idea since company holidays, school vacations, and college football games were already scheduled. Since the presidential declaration was not legally binding, twenty-three states refused to change the date. Colorado and Texas decided to officially celebrate on both days. A store owner in Kokomo, Indiana hung a sign in his window that read: “Do your shopping now. Who knows, tomorrow may be Christmas.” Menus from the period show that the conflict continued until 1941. 

Liberty Enlightening the World

New York City, 
1885-1986

The 125th anniversary of the Statue of Liberty in 2011 was celebrated with the issuance of a “forever” stamp. The new stamp turned out to be an embarrassment when it was later discovered that it was based on the half-size replica that stands in front of the New York-New York Casino in Las Vegas. Despite the mistake, the U.S. Post Office decided to stick with the design, explaining, “We still love the stamp design and would have selected this photograph anyway…Our track record is excellent for this as far as we’re concerned.”

Dante’s Pullman

New York City, 
ca. 1935

The three-story townhouse at 59 Charles Street in Greenwich Village is much the same as it was when it was built in the late 1860s. When the home was sold in 1967, the New York Times reported that the previous owner, Miss Emma Gerdes,  lived in the house for eighty-two years.1 She moved there with her family in 1884 when she was eight years old and stayed long after her brothers moved away and her parents died. All the while, she kept the house almost exactly the same, slowly turning it into a time capsule. According to Times, there had been a few small changes—the large metal chandelier hanging from the hand-painted ceiling in the parlor was converted from gas to electricity, and the stairwell received new wallpaper in 1923. Recent owners have confined most of their home improvements to systems hidden inside the walls, such as plumbing, electrical systems, and air conditioning. Given its seemingly well-documented history, it was surprising to learn something about this building that had been long forgotten. A menu revealed that it once housed an Italian restaurant.