12 Iconic '70s Cookout Dishes Boomers Will Remember All Too Well

The turbulence, turning points, and turbo-charged self-expression of the 1970s made it a memorable decade for all who lived through it, as well as a fascinating one for those who didn't. America saw a president resign in disgrace, a controversial war end, a near disastrous trip to the Moon, and the births of punk, hip-hop, and disco. This was also the heyday for many baby boomers, who dealt with all that was going on around them in the best way they knew how: by having cookouts.

Okay, that wasn't all they did, obviously, but cookouts in the '70s were a big thing. People got outside, family and friends gathered, beer cans were cracked, lawn darts were thrown, Al Green and The Eagles played in the background, and a slew of era-specific dishes were served. Some of these plates have maintained their staple cookout statuses into the present day, some trickled down through the generations in a modified form, and some have been outright forgotten.

Boomers have long memories, and will recall the obsolete foods they ate as well as the ones that have endured. The 1970s was a unique time and these dozen dishes each had their place on the picnic table. Let's grab a spoon and serve some of them out.

It's crazy to think how sugary elements were just wantonly added to foods in the decades after World War II. The boon in processed foods during that period made saccharine products cheap, readily available, and easy to incorporate. This resulted in dishes that, to some non-Boomer eyes, ranged from curiosities to monstrosities. Grape jelly meatballs is a cookout dish right in this range.

It feels like a quintessentially American food in a way. You have meatballs, a European import with both Scandinavian and Mediterranean roots that was folded into U.S. cooking culture. Then, grape jelly is dumped on top of them. The first cookbook to contain this recipe came out in 1960, and listed it with the name "Chafing Dish Meatballs." Generally, it consisted of slow-cooked meatballs made with a mix of jelly and barbecue sauce.

Often the dressing was a combination of grape jelly and chili sauce, as well. Kids of boomers have taken the version their parents love and zhuzhed it up a bit, like this Redditor: "I still make the chili sauce and grape jelly meatballs for holidays because my parents like them. Which pains me, but I add some sauteed shallots and garlic to liven it up a bit."

Boomers in the 1970s had a much more, we'll say, liberal view of what was called a salad. To many of us, salad has something to do with lettuce, along with ingredients like tomatoes, cucumbers, dressing. Maybe croutons. Ask someone who went to a lot of get-togethers 50 years ago, and that term will include dishes that seem like they were made by some automatic ingredient randomizer with a "no vegetable" filter.

Welcome to the Ambrosia salad, a dish that usually consists of fruit (traditionally orange and pineapple), marshmallows, whipped cream (often Cool Whip), and grated coconut. The first recorded version, pre-marshmallow and whipped cream, is found in a Southern cookbook in 1867. Twenty years or so later, pineapple and whip cream came into play, and by the 1920s Ambrosia recipes were incorporating the still-novel marshmallow.

There, the recipe calcified (with obvious room for variation), eventually becoming an almost comically common presence at 1970s potlucks. Still, it holds a special place in many boomer hearts, as one Redditor pronounced their mention of Ambrosia salad as the winner in a chain about Depression-era salads.

Want a dish that says both fancy-seeming and low-brow? Boomers always do, and honestly, there's nothing wrong with that. If you can take an exceedingly affordable ingredient, and with a little bit of effort and just the slightest touch of élan, create an enjoyable dish, then why not? It's exactly the reason why deviled eggs were such a hit at 1970s cookouts and parties. It's why they're still popular today.

Deviled eggs are also a surprisingly versatile canvas (like when it comes to crunchy deviled eggs). It's also a dish that's not just a property of the '70s. People enjoyed it in the 1950s as well. Which means that even parents of boomers were partying down with the app. Of course, no decade "owns" the deviled egg, as it can be traced as far back as Ancient Rome.

Thus, we've finally found a connecting dish between those who sported afros and disco curls and those who wore togas and laurels. Side quest accomplished! As for the special place in boomer's hearts for deviled eggs, well, that's not a fire easily extinguished.

You certainly don't have to be a boomer to like pigs in a blanket. This is an appetizer that anyone in any age group can chow down on. In fact, we'll even say at any time period in history. Hand a toothpick with a pig on a blanket to, say, Julius Caesar, Kublai Khan, or an ancient Mesopotamian, and they'll approve. A snappy mini sausage in a crispy, buttery shell? Come on. So, the 1970s are not unique in this.

With that said, a lot of boomers tossed back pigs in a blanket during outdoor gatherings. In the subreddit "1970's Appetizer Recipes," pigs in a blanket are mentioned numerous times, including by a Redditor who recognizes the dish's unique tie to the decade: "Pigs in a blanket predate the 70s, but it feels right." Even General Mills had its own published recipe for the wiener snacks in 1971.

All that said, pigs in a blanket are a food that many boomers don't actually have to reminisce about, as they probably see them a few times a year at backyard functions, Super Bowl parties, and the like. Although one bite may just transport them back to their prime, groovy, jean-wearing years.

Macaroni salad feels so appropriate for outdoor barbecues that it's as if it comes with a grill when you buy one. This is still the case to this day. Yet, macaroni salad feels like such a '70s boomer dish in so many respects. It's a cold, mayonnaise-y, mushy dish that gets all sort of things thrown in there (not to say one can't make a more refined macaroni salad). Regardless, many boomer grandparents brought, and still bring, this to summer cookouts.

And make no mistake, macaroni salad is an extremely American thing. It more than likely came out of combining the pasta of Italian immigrants with the potato salad of German immigrants. Recipes for it appeared in American cookbooks by the early 1900s. (It should be noted that a YouGov poll from 2024 declared macaroni salad as one of the most popular and recognizable "Italian" dishes by boomers. Oh, boomers.)

The popular picnic app doesn't seem to be going anywhere on the American cookout landscape (especially since spawning delicious, mayo-heavy Hawaiian macaroni salad). Yet, it still feels firmly rooted in the '70s.

A cheese ball feels so supremely American: a no-nonsense orb of cheese with a sometimes impenetrable outer shell that only good ol' American chip-dipping strength can breach. Many are ready for a cheese ball renaissance, as it's been in a long decline since its 1970s cookout heyday. Folks on Reddit and elsewhere are doing their part to revive the dish, especially the homemade version they remember their parents making.

You can see why it became so popular back in the day: It was economic and easy to prep. A Redditor that's been making it since the '70s gave a blow-by-blow of their preparation: "Have cheeses at room temperature for mixing. 8-oz cream cheese, 8-oz sharp cheddar (not pre-shred), dash Worcestershire sauce, dash of Tabasco sauce, pinch of garlic powder. Mix all and form into a ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm. Toast pecans and chop. Roll cheese ball in chopped pecans. Yep, it is that easy."

Some credit the first cheese ball in American history to Elder John Leland from a Baptist community in Cheshire, Massachusetts. Folks there created a half-ton ball of cheese that was literally rolled onto Thomas Jefferson's White House lawn.

This is a very 1970s food with a very 1970s moniker. The dish is also called Pistachio Fluff which, while being a fantastic drag name, is somehow a less fun sobriquet than Watergate salad. It's also fair to say that Richard Nixon probably didn't eat this, at least after a certain point in, ahem, time. Nonetheless, why this references Watergate is a bit of a head-scratcher.

Most agree the name of the salad came from the Watergate cake, which had the same flavor profile. As for where the cake was named, there's all kinds of speculation as to why it was associated with one of the major political events of the 1970s. Most of it centered around people just cracking wise.

The main contents of this very desserty, somewhat baffling concoction are pistachio pudding, crushed pineapples (canned), chopped nuts, marshmallows, and a whipped topping like Cool Whip. Although it's certainly an old-fashioned favorite, it's hard to gauge if non-boomers making it nowadays are doing so as a kind of parody of boomers. Some indeed like to gross-out younger family members by showing them a recipe. Yet, even a millennial or two have managed nostalgia for Watergate salad.

When you hear about something being bacon-wrapped, you know that it's inevitably going to play second fiddle to the bacon itself. You might wonder why there's even a pretense here — just serve a balled-up rasher and call it a day. Alas, folks in the 1970s wanted just a little refinement and structure to their pork consumption, bless 'em.

Hence, bacon-wrapped water chestnuts were a thing at the time, with the recipe found in tomes like the "New Pillsbury Family Cookbook" of 1975. The water chestnut is an interesting choice. It had to be the canned variety, since fresh, raw water chestnuts can infect your intestines with a parasite (fun!).

And it truly was a staple of the decade, especially with barbecue sauce. "My mom's goto app in the 70s," declared a commenter on Reddit. Another listed the dish as part of their boomer mom's app rotation, along with onion dip, puff pastry, and Swedish meatballs. And, like a number of other dishes from the time, bacon-wrapped water chestnuts were common during all kinds of boomer gatherings, especially the holidays.

It's interesting how cheese fondue was seen as something kind of fancy. It might have had to do with the Frenchy name. But really it's just a giant vat of melted cheese in which to dunk whatever floats your boat. It's like serving a huge bowl of powdered sugar and telling guests, "Hey, go for it." But there is an underlying craft, and cheese fondue was a staple of gatherings back in the day.

"Remember when fondue was all the rage in the 1970s?" headlined an "r/nostalgia" subreddit. People certainly did, with one reminiscing Redditor claiming they had it regularly throughout their childhood. It was a big hit at cocktail parties as much as at cookouts, where it would sit alongside curious offerings like shrimp molds and gelatin-based apps.

Although modern fondue is said to have emerged from the Alps in the 1800s, the loose concept of cheese fondue may go back deep into history. How deep? Try the first millennium B.C., where literature that existed alongside Homer (the ancient Greek poet, not the Simpson) mentions cheese from sheep and goat's milk that was combined with flour and wine. Boomers don't feel so old all of a sudden.

This is something that gets close to our more contemporary standards of a salad, without shying away from the quirky idiosyncratic nature of many boomer dishes. In fact, you could argue the very structure is a bizarre deconstruction of a salad, making it an almost anti-salad. Despite that, it's actually an ordered, aesthetically pleasing dish to look at when finished and untouched.

It's a salad that's especially popular in the South, where old folk are still bringing it around. As far as the layers in a standard recipe (though they can vary in order): From the bottom up, you have chopped lettuce, then peas, then chopped hard-boiled eggs, on top of that diced tomatoes, then crumbled bacon and shredded cheese (generally cheddar), finished with a mayo-sour cream combo. Of course, this should be in a glass bowl to showcase the delectable delineation in full profile.

And this is one of the more palatable of '70s cookout dishes, with nary a bizarre ingredient in sight. Practical, on the other hand, it is not. You are not supposed to toss it, instead you should scoop your utensil as far as down as possible into the bowl, like an archaeologist, in order to get every tier. Whether Costco's famous six-layer dip is an homage to this salad, who knows. Maybe Costco was trying to cater to boomers by creating it. Niche market in 2026.

Shish kebab is an Old World creation that just fits so beautifully into the American eating landscape. After all, the U.S. has an innate affinity for eating things off sticks: corn dogs, candy apples, cake pops, WWF Superstar bars. It's no surprise that this skewered meat — a cooking practice literally thousands of years old — slotted right in with 1970s barbecue parties.

Shish kebab brought the vague whiff of the exotic to cookouts in the '70s. Granted, exotic grilled meat to many Americans at the time was probably anything that wasn't a hot dog or a cheeseburger. And it was debatable if they could ever tell you the kebab's country of origin. Although, since it was Turkey, which reminded them of Thanksgiving, maybe they did know.

To say shish kebab has stood the test of time is an almost laughable understatement, but its certainly some of the more commonplace outdoor grilling fare to this day — and probably will be long after boomers and everyone else are gone.

Long before poke and loco moco made their way into the American eating mainstream, it was Huli Huli chicken that repped Hawaii in the U.S., especially at 1970s cookouts — and it had only been created a short time before that decade hit.

Story has it that in 1955, Ernest Morgado, the founder of a business called Pacific Poultry Company, came up with the soy sauce, brown sugar, and pineapple juice marinade that would bear the name. "Huli Huli" was eventually trademarked, so anyone else who makes it generally uses the term "huli-style."

The chicken itself is halved down the backbone so it can lay flat on the grill (but there are also spatchcocked versions that approximate the original Huli /huli recipe). Eateries in Hawaii, especially busy roadside places that pump out hundreds of chickens a day, keep their birds constantly turning on big open flames, rotisserie-style ("huli" being the Hawaiian word for "turn"). That's a little different than the lime green Weber Kettle grills of 1970s backyards, admittedly, but the Weber still did the job when boomers needed it.