National Hawaiian Pizza Day
2026-08-20
Pizza may hail from Italy, but Hawaiian pizza is a product of mid‑century North America. In 1962, Sam Panopoulos, a Greek immigrant who ran a diner in the Canadian town of Chatham, Ontario, decided to experiment with toppings. He opened a can of pineapple packed under the brand name Hawaiian, added a few rings atop a pizza with ham and bacon and baked it. The sweet tang of fruit against savoury ham and melted cheese was an immediate hit in his restaurant. Panopoulos called his creation Hawaiian pizza after the brand on the can and unwittingly started one of the world’s most contentious topping debates. Critics scoffed at the idea of fruit on pizza, while fans embraced the playful contrast of salty and sweet. Over the decades the combination spread across Canada, the United States and beyond. Some pizzerias have substituted smoked bacon for ham or added jalapeños for heat; others have used fresh pineapple instead of canned. National Hawaiian Pizza Day falls on August 20, Sam Panopoulos’s birthday, and honours his delicious act of curiosity. To celebrate, bake or order a Hawaiian pie, garnish it with extra slivers of pineapple if you like and reflect on how culinary innovation can arise anywhere—even in a small diner far from Italy. The holiday isn’t about authenticity; it’s about the joy of trying something new and finding pleasure in unexpected combinations.

National Spumoni Day
2026-08-21
Before Neapolitan ice cream was a supermarket staple, Italians were layering frozen creams and candied fruit into moulds called spumoni. This dessert likely originated in Campania or Sicily in the late 19th century and combined three flavours—usually cherry, pistachio and vanilla—swirled with candied citrus peel and nuts. The layers were moulded in a cylindrical shape and served sliced so each piece revealed a tricolour cross‑section. Italian immigrants brought the tradition to the United States, and by 1905 Salvatore Lezza was selling spumoni from his bakery in Chicago. As the dessert became popular, Americans adapted it into Neapolitan ice cream, which omits the candied fruits and uses strawberry, vanilla and chocolate instead. National Spumoni Day invites us to revisit the original. Its textures—rich ice cream against chewy fruit—invite slow savour. To celebrate, seek out a gelateria that offers spumoni or try making it at home with pistachio gelato, cherry ice cream and almond‑studded vanilla. Fold in bits of candied orange and maraschino cherries and freeze in a loaf pan. When you slice into it, you’ll see layers of colour like a frozen flag. Serve slices with espresso or a shot of amaretto and appreciate how immigrants’ recipes travel and evolve.

National Sweet Tea Day
2026-08-21
For many in the American South, sweet tea isn’t just a drink—it’s a ritual. In the mid‑19th century, tea was a luxury item, as were sugar and ice. Recipes for sweetened iced tea didn’t appear until 1878, when a community cookbook from Virginia offered a version using green tea steeped with sugar and cooled. The 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis helped popularise iced tea nationally when a heatwave drove fairgoers to seek cold refreshments. Over time black tea replaced green tea as a base, and huge jars of sun tea brewed on porches. Sweet tea soon became a hallmark of southern hospitality. Families passed down methods for brewing strong, fragrant tea, stirring in sugar while the liquid is hot so it dissolves fully and diluting with cold water or ice. Fresh lemon wedges and mint sprigs are optional but common. National Sweet Tea Day honours that heritage. To celebrate, brew tea strong and sweet, then chill it until condensation forms on the pitcher. Pour it over ice in tall glasses and share it with friends on a shaded porch while cicadas sing. As you sip, think of the people throughout history who made this drink possible—Chinese farmers who cultivated Camellia sinensis, West African and Caribbean sugar workers and the women who first set up tea tables in the midday heat.

National Bao Day
2026-08-22
Bao—soft, pillowy buns filled with savoury or sweet fillings—are part of the culinary heart of China. Legend credits the military strategist Zhuge Liang with inventing steamed buns during the Three Kingdoms era, using dough in place of human heads as a ritual offering. Historically, baozi evolved from mantou, plain steamed buns eaten as staples in northern China. Over centuries, cooks began to stuff the dough with minced pork, vegetables, red bean paste and more. Street vendors in major cities still sell bamboo baskets stacked high with fluffy buns, their steam fragrant with ginger, garlic and sesame oil. In 2017 the fast‑casual chain Wow Bao declared August 22 National Bao Day to celebrate this ancient comfort food and introduce more Americans to its diversity. Today you can find char siu bao stuffed with barbecue pork, sheng jian bao with crispy bottoms and soup‑filled xiaolongbao that burst with hot broth. To mark the holiday, visit a dim sum restaurant or try making bao at home. Mix flour with yeast and warm water, knead until smooth and let it rise. Roll out discs, spoon in filling, pleat the edges and steam until they puff up. The result is a pocket of warmth and flavour you can eat with your hands. Bao remind us that some of the best foods are humble, portable and designed to feed travellers and workers—and that traditions can be both ancient and endlessly adaptable.

Eat a Peach Day
2026-08-22
In late summer, peaches perfume markets with their floral sweetness. The fruit, which likely originated in China more than 4,000 years ago, was so beloved there that poets compared it to immortality. From the foothills of the Himalayas peaches travelled west along the Silk Road through Persia—giving rise to their species name, Prunus persica—and on to Greece and Rome. Spanish explorers later carried seeds to the Americas, where Indigenous peoples quickly adopted the trees. Thomas Jefferson planted peach orchards at Monticello, and by the 19th century peaches were part of the southern United States’ identity. Eat a Peach Day celebrates the moment when a ripe peach is perfectly sweet, its fuzzy skin yielding to a juicy bite. To honour the day, choose peaches that are fragrant and give slightly to the touch. Slice them over yogurt for breakfast, toss them on the grill to caramelise their sugars or bake them into a rustic galette. You might stir them into iced tea for a Southern classic. As you eat, notice the balance of tart and sweet, the way juice drips down your chin, and the subtle almond note in the pit. Sharing peaches with family and friends is a way of marking the turning of summer towards autumn and of appreciating a fruit that has travelled centuries to get to your table.

World Plant Milk Day
2026-08-22
Plant‑based milks might seem like a recent trend, but humans have been blending nuts, grains and seeds with water for centuries. Medieval European cooks made almond milk to use during Lent when animal products were forbidden; in China, soybeans were ground and boiled to create the drink we know as soy milk. In modern times, people with lactose intolerance or ethical concerns about dairy have embraced plant milks made from oats, rice, cashews and even hemp. In 2017 Robbie Lockie, co‑founder of the media outlet Plant Based News, launched World Plant Milk Day to raise awareness about the environmental, health and animal‑welfare benefits of choosing plant milks. Held every August 22, the day has since attracted partners like ProVeg International and Switch4Good. Supporters highlight that producing almond or oat milk uses far less land and water than dairy, and that plant milks can be fortified to provide calcium and vitamin D. They also point out that plant‑milk market share is booming worldwide. To celebrate, try a different kind of milk in your coffee or cereal—perhaps the creaminess of oat, the light sweetness of rice or the nutty richness of macadamia. Consider making your own by soaking nuts overnight, blending them with water and straining through cheesecloth. World Plant Milk Day isn’t about shaming dairy lovers; it’s about expanding choices and imagining a future where our morning latte has less impact on the planet.

National Pecan Torte Day
2026-08-22
Unlike a sponge cake, a torte relies on nuts for body instead of flour. In central Europe tortes are dense confections layered with buttercream and fruit, but in the American South the pecan torte stands apart: it’s a single layer of ground pecans folded gently into whipped egg whites and yolks. No leavening is needed; the air beaten into the eggs provides lift. Pecans, native to the Mississippi River valley, lend the cake an earthy sweetness and a tender crumb. Historically, tortes were celebratory desserts made for weddings or holidays. National Pecan Torte Day invites bakers to explore this elegant simplicity. To make one, toast a mound of pecans until fragrant, then grind them finely. Beat yolks with sugar until pale, whisk whites to stiff peaks and fold everything together with a splash of vanilla and a pinch of salt. Bake until the surface is golden and the centre just set. You might drizzle the torte with espresso syrup or dust it with powdered sugar. The cake is rich yet surprisingly light, wonderful with coffee or tea. Celebrating with a pecan torte honours both the European pastry tradition and the uniquely American ingredient at its core. It’s a marriage of technique and terroir that reminds us of how food travels and transforms.

National Sponge Cake Day
2026-08-23
A true sponge cake is more air than anything else. Unlike butter cakes, sponges rely on whipped eggs for their rise, creating a structure of tiny bubbles that results in an airy crumb. The cake’s origins are entwined with the discovery in 17th‑century Europe that beaten eggs could act as a leavening agent. Genoese bakers developed a batter called pâte génoise, in which whole eggs and sugar are warmed and beaten to ribbon stage before flour and melted butter are folded in. The resulting cakes were used for layered desserts and trifle bases. In the Victorian era, sponge cake became associated with afternoon tea; Queen Victoria herself reportedly enjoyed slices of sponge filled with jam and cream. National Sponge Cake Day invites you to master this deceptively simple technique. Begin by separating eggs and whipping the whites to glossy peaks, then beat the yolks with sugar until pale and thick. Fold the two together gently along with sifted flour and a little lemon zest. Bake in an ungreased tube pan so the batter can cling to the sides and rise tall. When you slice it, the cake should spring back under your finger like a pillow. Enjoy it plain with powdered sugar, sandwich it with berries and cream or soak it in citrus syrup. The lightness of sponge cake belies its staying power—it has been delighting tea tables for centuries and continues to be the perfect canvas for seasonal toppings.

National Coconut Week
2026-08-23
The coconut is a study in versatility—simultaneously fruit, nut and seed, offering food, drink, fiber and fuel. National Coconut Week, observed during the last week of August, honors the tropical palm tree that has sustained island cultures for millennia. Coconut palms likely originated in the South Pacific and drifted on ocean currents to tropical shores worldwide. Every part of the coconut has a use: the tender water inside young nuts quenches thirst; the white flesh provides fat and protein; the oil extracted from dried copra is used for cooking, cosmetics and soap; and the fibrous husk becomes rope, mats and horticultural mulch. Sailors and traders carried coconuts across oceans, and colonists established plantations in the Caribbean, India and Southeast Asia. Today, Indonesia, the Philippines and India are major producers, but coconut palms also dot coastlines from Mexico to Mozambique.
Coconuts feature prominently in cuisines throughout the tropics. In India and Sri Lanka, grated coconut thickens curries and chutneys. In Thailand, coconut milk forms the base of soups like tom kha and desserts like sticky rice. Caribbean cooks simmer coconut with rice and beans, while Brazilians blend coconut with condensed milk for brigadeiros. Coconut water has gained global popularity as a hydrating beverage rich in electrolytes. Coconut oil, once maligned for its saturated fat, is prized for high‑heat frying and vegan baking. Meanwhile, shredded coconut adds texture to cakes, cookies and granola. Beyond food, coconut palm leaves become roofing material, the trunks turn into furniture, and the shells become bowls and art.
During Coconut Week, incorporate coconuts into your meals and learn about their cultural significance. Crack open a whole coconut to drink the water, then carve out the meat for snacking or smoothies. Make a fragrant curry with coconut milk, lime leaves and ginger, or bake macaroons and coconut cream pie. Try coconut oil for sautéing or in homemade granola. If you have access to a Caribbean or Southeast Asian grocery store, explore coconut‑based ingredients like creamed coconut, coconut flour or gula melaka (coconut palm sugar). Use coir (coconut fiber) as a sustainable alternative to peat moss in gardening. Teach children about how coconuts grow and the communities that rely on them. Reflect on how something as simple as a coconut can provide sustenance and livelihood around the world. Coconut Week reminds us of the global interconnections of food and the resourcefulness of cultures that make the most of every part of a plant.

National Cuban Sandwich Day
2026-08-23
The Cuban sandwich—pressed bread stuffed with roast pork, ham, Swiss cheese, pickles and mustard—is a story of migration and cultural mingling. Its roots lie with the Taino people of the Caribbean, who made flatbread from cassava called casabe. When Spanish colonists arrived, they introduced pork, cured ham and cheese, and the sandwich began to take shape. In the 19th century Cuban migrants working in cigar factories in Tampa’s Ybor City and Key West brought their taste for hot pressed sandwiches. Bakeries in these communities baked long loaves of Cuban bread enriched with lard, ready to be split and loaded with meat. The sandwich became popular among workers because it was portable and hearty. A traditional Tampa ‘mixto’ includes salami, reflecting the influence of Italian immigrants, whereas Miami’s version omits it. National Cuban Sandwich Day, first promoted in recent years by journalists and food lovers, encourages us to celebrate this culinary crossroads. To honour it, slow‑roast pork shoulder with citrus and garlic to emulate Cuban mojo, slice ham thinly and layer it all with Swiss cheese, dill pickles and mustard between bread with a crisp crust and soft crumb. Press the sandwich on a plancha or in a panini press until the cheese melts and the exterior is golden. Each bite offers tang, salt, richness and crunch. Beyond taste, the sandwich speaks to the way food travels with people, adapts to new places and becomes a symbol of community pride.

National Peach Pie Day
2026-08-24
Pie is one of America’s most enduring desserts, and peach pie is arguably its summer queen. Peaches, with their fragrant flesh and rosy skins, reached North America via Spanish settlers and quickly took to southern orchards. Early American cooks prized pies for their ability to preserve fruit and provide portable meals. By the 19th century peach pie recipes appeared in cookbooks across the country. Filling slices of golden crust with juicy fruit allowed bakers to savour harvest flavours long after picking. National Peach Pie Day falls when peach season is at its peak, inviting us to roll out dough and breathe in the aroma of pastry and spice. For a classic pie, toss slices of ripe peaches with sugar, lemon juice, cinnamon and a bit of flour to thicken the juices. Pile the fruit high into a bottom crust, dot with butter and top with a lattice of pastry strips. Bake until the juices bubble and the crust browns. Let the pie cool so the filling sets, then serve warm with a scoop of ice cream. You might also try variations: add raspberries for tartness, streusel for crunch or bourbon for warmth. However you slice it, peach pie captures summer in a dish and brings people together around the table.

National Waffle Day
2026-08-24
The waffle has travelled an impressive journey from medieval pious fare to brunch favourite. Medieval Europeans cooked unleavened communion wafers in patterned irons, and by the 13th century artisans began to sell thicker street waffles seasoned with honey and wine. Waffle irons with elaborate designs—coats of arms, biblical scenes and lattice patterns—were prized household possessions. In 1725 a Belgian baker added yeast and pearl sugar to create the crisp and caramelised Liège waffle. When Cornelius Swartwout patented the first American stovetop waffle iron on August 24 1869, he inadvertently created the date for National Waffle Day. His cast iron contraption had a handle that allowed cooks to flip the batter evenly over an open flame. Today waffles come in many forms: thin and crisp Brussels waffles dusted with powdered sugar, fluffy American diner waffles drowned in maple syrup, savoury cornmeal waffles topped with fried chicken. To celebrate, mix a batter of flour, eggs, milk and melted butter; fold in beaten egg whites for extra lift if you like. Heat your iron until a drop of batter sizzles, then pour and wait as the kitchen fills with the scent of browning batter. Waffles remind us that simple ingredients—grain, milk and eggs—can become something special with a hot iron and a little patience.

National Whiskey Sour Day
2026-08-25
A well‑made whiskey sour is a lesson in balance. The drink likely evolved from sailors’ grog—spirits mixed with citrus juice and sugar to ward off scurvy. By the mid‑19th century, bartenders in the United States were combining whiskey, lemon and sugar with ice and shaking them to a frothy chill. One popular origin story credits Elliott Stubb, a sailor‑turned‑barman, who purportedly invented the drink in a port in Chile around 1872; another points to American cocktail manuals from the 1860s. Regardless, the recipe endures because it’s straightforward and satisfying. To mix a whiskey sour, fill a shaker with good bourbon or rye, freshly squeezed lemon juice and simple syrup. If you like a richer texture, add an egg white—a technique borrowed from early sour cocktails—and dry‑shake vigorously to emulsify, then add ice and shake again. Strain into a chilled glass over fresh ice or serve it straight up. A twist of lemon peel or a cherry are traditional garnishes. On National Whiskey Sour Day, take the time to measure, shake and taste. You’ll notice the tartness of lemon, the warmth of oak‑aged whiskey and the subtle sweetness that ties everything together. The holiday is also a nod to the golden age of cocktails and to the bartenders who continue to perfect them.

National Green Goddess Day
2026-08-25
Green Goddess dressing is a testament to how the theatre can influence cuisine. In the 1920s San Francisco’s Palace Hotel hosted the actor George Arliss, who was starring in the play The Green Goddess. To honour him, the hotel’s chef, Philip Roemer, created a dressing as vibrant as the title. He blended mayonnaise with fresh herbs—parsley, tarragon and chives—along with anchovies, vinegar and a splash of Worcestershire sauce to achieve a creamy, savoury sauce that paired beautifully with crisp salads and seafood. The dressing became wildly popular on the West Coast through the 1930s. Over time, variations added sour cream, avocado or lemon juice, and home cooks embraced the recipe after it appeared in the 1948 edition of The Joy of Cooking. After a mid‑century lull, Green Goddess experienced a renaissance in the 1990s as chefs rediscovered its verdant flavour. National Green Goddess Day is a chance to make the dressing from scratch. Chop handfuls of herbs, mash a fillet of anchovy into a paste, whisk with mayonnaise, a squeeze of lemon and a splash of white wine vinegar. Blend until smooth and flecked with green. Drizzle it over bibb lettuce and radishes, dollop it onto grilled salmon or use it as a dip for crudités. Each bite tastes of gardens and sea breezes. The holiday encourages us to revive a nearly forgotten classic and appreciate how a simple sauce can tie together a meal—and a moment in cultural history.

National Banana Split Day
2026-08-25
On a summer afternoon in 1904, David Evans Strickler, a 23‑year‑old apprentice pharmacist at Tassel Pharmacy in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, decided to liven up the soda fountain menu. He split a banana lengthwise, nestled three scoops of ice cream between the halves, drizzled them with chocolate and strawberry sauces, sprinkled crushed nuts on top and finished each scoop with a cherry. Customers lined up for the 10‑cent treat, and the banana split was born. It soon spread to ice cream parlours across America; Walgreens popularised it by making the sundae a signature item in its chain of stores. Some claim a competing origin in Wilmington, Ohio, but Latrobe holds the longest‑running festival. National Banana Split Day honours this over‑the‑top dessert. To make your own, choose a ripe but firm banana, peel and split it. Place scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream down the centre. Pour on hot fudge, pineapple sauce and strawberry compote. Add dollops of whipped cream and sprinkle chopped peanuts or walnuts. Don’t forget the cherries on top. There’s no need to stick to tradition—swap in mint chip or coffee ice cream, add caramel or butterscotch and finish with crumbled cookies. The banana split’s enduring appeal lies in its whimsy and abundance; it’s a celebration in a boat‑shaped dish and a reminder that sometimes more really is more.

National Charcuterie Board Day
2026-08-26
Charcuterie is the craft of curing, smoking and preserving meat, a tradition that dates back to at least 15th‑century France. The word comes from ‘chair cuite’, meaning cooked flesh, and referred to shops that sold sausages, pâtés and rillettes. French guilds regulated production, and regional specialities evolved—think saucisson sec in the Auvergne, jambon de Bayonne in the Basque country and terrines in Normandy. Today charcuterie has taken on a broader meaning: it encompasses not only meats but the platters on which they are served, often accompanied by cheeses, bread, pickles, nuts and fruit. In 2024, hostess and entertainer Corinne Sweet declared August 26 National Charcuterie Board Day to celebrate the art of assembling these edible still lifes. To mark the occasion, choose a wooden board or marble slab and layer it with thin slices of cured ham and salami, chunks of pâté, wedges of soft and hard cheeses, clusters of grapes, dried apricots and bowls of olives and mustard. Add contrasting textures and flavours: crunchy nuts, briny pickles, tangy chutneys. Arrange everything in a way that invites grazing. A charcuterie board is about abundance and sharing; it turns snacks into conversation pieces. Celebrating this holiday is an excuse to linger with friends over good food and discover how cured meats are both ancient craft and modern delight.

National Cherry Popsicle Day
2026-08-26
The Popsicle owes its existence to an 11‑year‑old boy’s forgetfulness. In 1905, San Francisco resident Frank Epperson mixed powdered soda pop with water and left his cup, stirring stick and all, on the porch overnight. Temperatures dipped below freezing, and he awoke to find a sweet ice block on a stick. Epperson dubbed his accidental creation the ‘Epsicle’ and later sold the treats at an amusement park. After patenting his frozen novelty in 1923, he renamed it Popsicle. Cherry is among the brand’s most beloved flavours, evoking childhood summers, red tongues and sticky fingers. National Cherry Popsicle Day is a chance to reconnect with that simple pleasure. You can buy a box of cherry pops or make your own by blending cherries with water and sugar, then freezing the puree in moulds with sticks. As the pops freeze, cherry juice seeps into every crevice, creating icy strata of crimson. When you take a bite, the cold fruit explodes with tart sweetness. This holiday reminds us that serendipity and playfulness can produce enduring treats and that sometimes the best way to cool off on a hot day is with something delightfully messy.

National Banana Lovers Day
2026-08-27
Bananas are so ubiquitous in grocery stores that it’s easy to forget their exotic origins. The fruit likely originated in Southeast Asia, where wild bananas were first domesticated more than two thousand years ago. These early bananas were filled with hard seeds; farmers selectively bred plants for their creamy, seedless flesh. Arab traders carried bananas across the Indian Ocean and introduced them to Africa and the Middle East. Portuguese colonists planted banana trees in the Canary Islands and then in the Caribbean, and by the late 19th century companies like United Fruit were importing bananas to the United States in huge quantities. The modern banana is a clone of the Cavendish cultivar, and its uniformity has made it vulnerable to disease. National Banana Lovers Day is a moment to appreciate the fruit’s journey and to broaden your palate. Instead of just slicing a banana over cereal, try baking banana bread with cardamom and walnuts, blending frozen banana into ‘nice cream’ or caramelising slices for an elegant dessert. Seek out lesser‑known varieties at specialty markets—red bananas with raspberry undertones or tiny Manzano bananas with apple notes. And consider the people who grow and harvest bananas; choosing fair‑trade fruit helps ensure workers are paid a living wage.

National Pots de Crème Day
2026-08-27
Pots de crème—literally ‘pots of cream’—are small French custards baked in individual cups. Their history stretches back to the 17th century when custards were prized at Versailles for their smooth texture and rich flavour. While early versions were encased in pastry shells, the dessert evolved into a standalone pudding cooked slowly in a water bath. The classic formula is simple: heavy cream, whole milk, egg yolks, sugar and vanilla. These ingredients are whisked together, strained for silkiness and poured into little porcelain pots. The pots are baked in a bain‑marie until just set, then chilled so the custard becomes luxuriously thick. Variations use chocolate, caramel, coffee or coconut milk. National Pots de Crème Day invites you to indulge in a spoonful of decadence. When you dip into the custard, your spoon sinks through a tremulous surface before meeting creamy resistance. The flavour lingers, coating the palate with sweetness. Serve pots de crème plain or topped with lightly whipped cream and shaved chocolate. The holiday encourages us to embrace indulgence and to appreciate French pastry techniques that have been refined over centuries.

National Crackers Over The Keyboard Day
2026-08-28
National Crackers Over The Keyboard Day is one of those quirky celebrations invented to make us chuckle. The day was dreamt up by Thomas and Ruth Roy, a husband‑and‑wife acting duo who have created dozens of ‘special’ days through their company Wellcat Holidays. This one encourages workers and students to break one of office etiquette’s cardinal rules: no eating crumbly snacks at your desk. The idea is to embrace a moment of rebellion and lighten the mood. Crackers have been a simple snack for centuries; sailors relied on hardtack, and households kept saltines on hand to calm upset stomachs. On this day, choose your favourite cracker—perhaps a buttery water biscuit, a crisp seeded wafer or a humble square of saltine. Spread it with cheese or peanut butter, then nibble away as crumbs scatter over the keyboard. Let go of perfectionism and the worry of making a mess. Afterwards, of course, you can turn the keyboard upside down and gently shake out the debris. The holiday reminds us that work doesn’t always have to be solemn and that sometimes a silly ritual is just what we need to relieve tension and foster camaraderie.

National Banana Pudding Day
2026-08-28
There’s something about banana pudding that feels like a hug from the inside. Maybe it’s the layers: the soft slices of ripe banana, the rich vanilla custard, the nilla wafers that soften to a cake‑like texture and the cloud of whipped cream or meringue on top. Maybe it’s the way the flavors meld after a night in the refrigerator, becoming greater than the sum of their parts. In any case, banana pudding has earned its place at church potlucks, family reunions, barbecue joints and Sunday suppers across America, especially in the South. But this comfort food didn’t start as a Southern tradition. The earliest known published recipe for banana pudding appears in the July 1888 issue of Good Housekeeping, which suggested layering sliced bananas with custard and sponge cake. Bananas were a novelty at the time, imported from Central America via steamship and marketed as an exotic health food. By the 1890s, similar recipes proliferated in women’s magazines and community cookbooks. In 1921 a home economist named Laura Kerley published a version that replaced the sponge cake with vanilla wafers. This simple substitution changed everything. Nabisco saw an opportunity and began printing Kerley’s recipe on boxes of their Nilla Wafers, helping to cement banana pudding as an accessible dessert even for inexperienced cooks.
Banana pudding’s popularity blossomed alongside the banana trade itself. Companies like United Fruit (now Chiquita) promoted banana recipes to encourage consumption of the perishable fruit. During the mid‑twentieth century, as refrigeration and refrigerated rail cars became common, bananas and dairy products became cheaper and more widely available. Banana pudding was served in school cafeterias and at company picnics. After World War II, when troops returning from the Pacific had acquired a taste for bananas, the dessert took on a nostalgic glow. In the 1970s and ’80s, soul food restaurants and African American cooks embraced banana pudding as a staple, adapting it with their own touches: sweetened condensed milk for extra richness, cream cheese for tang, or meringue peaks browned under the broiler. Today you’ll find banana pudding topped with everything from caramel drizzle to peanut butter and served in mason jars at upscale restaurants. Yet the core remains the same: bananas, custard, cookies and cream.
National Banana Pudding Day, celebrated every August near the end of the month, is an excuse to revisit this beloved dessert or discover it for the first time. Some people bake their custard from scratch and fold in whipped egg whites for an airy texture; others stir vanilla pudding mix into sweetened condensed milk for ease. Bananas should be ripe but not overly brown, sliced just before assembling to prevent browning. Vanilla wafers should be layered generously to soak up the pudding and maintain a bit of bite. Many swear that banana pudding tastes best after at least four hours of chilling, when the flavors meld and the cookies soften. Take time to garnish the top with extra wafers or banana coins. Then, when you spoon into the glass dish, let the creamy custard and soft banana slices transport you. Banana pudding is more than a recipe; it’s a ritual passed down through generations, a dessert that invites you to slow down and savor the sweetness of bananas and memories. On its special day, share a bowl with neighbors, experiment with a new twist or stick to Grandma’s recipe. Either way, you’ll be tapping into a tradition over a century old that continues to bring comfort and joy.

National Cherry Turnover Day
2026-08-28
Turnovers may have originated as a clever workaround to baking bans. In 15th‑century England some towns outlawed cakes to curb flour consumption, so bakers folded pastry around fruit filling and claimed it wasn’t a cake at all. These ‘pocket pies’ became popular throughout Europe. A turnover is essentially a hand pie: flaky puff pastry or pie dough encasing sweet or savoury filling. Cherry turnovers showcase tart cherries cooked down with sugar until thick, spooned onto dough and folded into triangles or crescents. Steam vents cut into the top prevent explosions in the oven. National Cherry Turnover Day celebrates the joy of portable pastry. To mark it, roll out puff pastry and cut it into squares, spoon in cherry compote and fold to make triangles. Crimp the edges with a fork, brush with egg wash and bake until golden. When you bite into one, the crisp layers shatter and release syrupy fruit. Each turnover is both indulgent and humble—a reminder that the best desserts often begin with a surplus of fruit and a need to carry food on the go.

National Red Wine Day
2026-08-28
Wine has been part of human culture for at least eight thousand years. Archaeologists have discovered traces of fermented grape juice in Neolithic pottery from Georgia, and Greek and Roman writers extolled wine’s virtues. Today red wine is made from countless grape varieties—Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Pinot Noir, Syrah—each reflecting its terroir. National Red Wine Day, established in 2014 by wine writer Jace Shoemaker‑Galloway, encourages people to explore the diversity of red wines. A glass of red is more than a beverage; it is the story of soil, climate, grape genetics and winemaker skill. Pour a Bordeaux and you taste blackcurrant and tobacco, thanks to Cabernet Sauvignon’s thick skins and the region’s gravelly soil. Sip a Beaujolais and you find juicy strawberries from the Gamay grape grown on granite slopes. On this day, visit a local wine shop and ask for recommendations or open a bottle you’ve been saving. Decant it if it’s full‑bodied to let oxygen tease out aromas; pair it with roasted meat, mushrooms, dark chocolate or hard cheese. Appreciate how the colour stains the glass, how the tannins grip your tongue and how the finish lingers. Most importantly, savour it with company. Wine has always been about connection—between people at the table and between the present and ancient traditions.

National Cherry Popover Day
2026-09-01
Every year around this time, I find myself craving national cherry popover day. It signals a call to gather over plates and conversation. In kitchens and cafes across the country, people take note of the date and remember how national cherry popover day connects them to seasons past and present.
Long before anyone thought to mark the calendar in celebration of national cherry popover day, families and communities were already gathering around variations of this dish, trading notes on techniques and preferences. The stories stretch across oceans and villages – from homesteads where national cherry popover day was a special Sunday treat to city diners where it became a quick comfort after a long workday. No one can point to a single inventor. Instead, national cherry popover day grew out of shared cravings and resourcefulness, slowly evolving as ingredients and imaginations allowed.
Making national cherry popover day is a sensuous ritual: there’s the sound of ingredients coming together, the feel of textures changing beneath your hands, and the heady aroma that fills the kitchen. Each time you prepare it, you rejoin an unbroken line of cooks who have performed the same motions and felt the same anticipation. It’s strange how chopping a specific fruit or stirring a thick batter can transport you to a grandmother’s table or a childhood kitchen. The senses are our time machine, and national cherry popover day is a wonderful trigger.
What I love about national cherry popover day is how it sits comfortably at every table, whether at a neighborhood potluck, a fancy brunch, or late-night snack. There are endless ways to tweak it – a sprinkle of spice here, a switch of sweetener there – yet the essence remains familiar. My own fondest memories involve a mismatched set of ceramic bowls and a tiny kitchen where friends balanced plates on their knees, laughing as we compared whose version of national cherry popover day tasted best. The dish fostered stories and nicknames and the kind of belly laughs that linger in your chest.
So when September 01 rolls around and National Cherry Popover Day appears on our calendars, it serves as both a reminder and an excuse. A reminder that a simple food can carry generations of memory and culture; an excuse to clear an afternoon, gather ingredients, and lose yourself in the process of creation. As you bite into your national cherry popover day, maybe with a smear of butter or a drizzle of sauce, let yourself taste not just sugar or spice but the patience, experimentation, and love that kept this dish alive. In this busy world, intentionally making and enjoying national cherry popover day might be one of the gentlest ways to honor history and feed the soul.

National Gyro Day
2026-09-01
You know it’s early September in Chicago when the scent of roasting meat and warm pita wafts down Halsted Street, luring people toward a tiny shop with a spinning column of marinated goodness. National Gyro Day falls on September 1st every year, but the celebration is less about a single date and more about the journey of a beloved street food that wound its way from the Mediterranean to American cities. Say the word “gyro” and someone will correct your pronunciation – “yee-roh,” they’ll insist – before reminiscing about their favorite spot to grab one. The name itself comes from the Greek word gyros, meaning “turn” or “rotation,” a nod to the vertical rotisserie that slowly spins the meat as it cooks. That detail hints at a lineage that stretches back far beyond Instagram food trends. Some romantics trace gyros to the time of Alexander the Great, when soldiers purportedly skewered meat on their swords and cooked it over open flames, while others point to the 19th century Ottoman Empire’s döner kebab as the more direct ancestor. What’s certain is that modern gyros as we know them wouldn’t exist without waves of Greek immigrants who carried recipes, spices, and culinary pride across the Aegean and the Atlantic.
In the 1920s and ’30s, Greeks displaced from Asia Minor brought their food traditions to mainland Greece. Street vendors in Athens began stacking seasoned slices of pork or beef onto vertical spits, slicing off tender pieces as the outer layer crisped and serving them with tomatoes, onions, and a dollop of creamy tzatziki sauce. Fast, flavorful, and filling, the gyro became a staple of Greek city life. When those same immigrants crossed the ocean seeking opportunity, they brought the gyro along. By the 1960s, you could find gyros in the Greek neighborhoods of New York and Chicago, and by 1970 a humble Chicago restaurant popularized what many consider the first American gyro. Entrepreneur Peter Parthenis of Grecian Delight (later Kronos Foods) saw potential beyond a neighborhood treat; he industrialized gyro production and convinced diners, sports stadiums, and grocery stores that Americans needed this sandwich in their lives. His vision ushered in an era when students grabbed gyros on the way home from class, late-night revelers lined up for a handheld feast, and home cooks experimented with their own versions. Each adaptation – using lamb instead of pork, swapping in chicken, adding french fries or pickled vegetables – testifies to the gyro’s flexibility.
If you’ve never assembled a gyro yourself, the process is both simple and sensual. First, choose your protein: maybe thin shavings of lamb and beef seasoned with garlic, oregano, and lemon; maybe juicy strips of chicken rubbed with paprika; or perhaps a plant-based seitan marinated in olive oil and herbs. The meat is traditionally layered onto a spit and roasted slowly, juices basting the layers as they turn. As the exterior browns, you shave off ribbons of meat that are crispy on the edges and tender within. To build the sandwich, warm a round of soft pita until it’s pliable and fragrant. Smear on tzatziki, that cool concoction of thick yogurt, cucumber, garlic, and dill. Add your meat, then tuck in ripe tomatoes, slivers of red onion, and, if you’re in Greece, a handful of golden french fries. The first bite is a study in contrasts: hot meat against cool sauce, the chew of bread yielding to the crunch of vegetables, and a chorus of herbs that evoke mountainsides and seaside tavernas. Even the sound of tearing foil as you unwrap a to-go gyro can trigger a flood of memories for those who grew up with the dish.
My own introduction to gyros happened far from any Athenian market. It was in a Chicago suburb, in a fluorescent-lit diner where my father would take me after Little League games. The cook behind the counter moved like a dancer, shaving meat from a spit, flicking his wrist to toss vegetables onto pita, and sprinkling oregano with a flourish. I remember watching the rotisserie’s hypnotic spin, the juices hissing as they hit the hot metal, and feeling like I was being let in on a secret. That sandwich, wrapped in wax paper and still steaming by the time we sat down, tasted like nothing I’d had before. It was salty and tangy and messy, the yogurt sauce dripping down my chin as my father laughed and passed me a napkin. Years later, walking through the labyrinthine streets of Athens, I hunted down a gyro in the very place where the dish gained its cultural footing. The pita was softer, the meat marinated in a way that hinted at history, and the tzatziki carried the freshness of just-picked cucumbers. In that moment, I realized how food can travel and adapt while still anchoring you to a place.
Today, National Gyro Day invites us to celebrate that journey. Food trucks might offer fusion versions stuffed with kimchi or barbecue sauce, upscale restaurants might plate deconstructed gyros with artisanal pita and microgreens, and home cook

National Tofu Day
2026-09-01
As soon as my calendar flips to September, national tofu day comes to mind. It nudges us to slow down and savor something simple and satisfying. In kitchens and cafes across the country, people take note of the date and remember how national tofu day connects them to seasons past and present.
Ages before a modern holiday existed for national tofu day, families and communities were already gathering around variations of this dish, trading notes on techniques and preferences. The stories stretch across oceans and villages – from homesteads where national tofu day was a special Sunday treat to city diners where it became a quick comfort after a long workday. No one can point to a single inventor. Instead, national tofu day grew out of shared cravings and resourcefulness, slowly evolving as ingredients and imaginations allowed.
Cooking national tofu day is a kind of alchemy. You watch simple ingredients transform into something greater than the sum of their parts, and you breathe in scents that trigger memories. Each time you prepare it, you rejoin an unbroken line of cooks who have performed the same motions and felt the same anticipation. It’s strange how chopping a specific fruit or stirring a thick batter can transport you to a grandmother’s table or a childhood kitchen. The senses are our time machine, and national tofu day is a wonderful trigger.
What I love about national tofu day is how it sits comfortably at every table, whether at a neighborhood potluck, a fancy brunch, or late-night snack. There are endless ways to tweak it – a sprinkle of spice here, a switch of sweetener there – yet the essence remains familiar. My own fondest memories involve a mismatched set of ceramic bowls and a tiny kitchen where friends balanced plates on their knees, laughing as we compared whose version of national tofu day tasted best. The dish fostered stories and nicknames and the kind of belly laughs that linger in your chest.
So when September 01 rolls around and National Tofu Day appears on our calendars, it serves as both a reminder and an excuse. A reminder that a simple food can carry generations of memory and culture; an excuse to clear an afternoon, gather ingredients, and lose yourself in the process of creation. As you bite into your national tofu day, maybe with a smear of butter or a drizzle of sauce, let yourself taste not just sugar or spice but the patience, experimentation, and love that kept this dish alive. In this busy world, intentionally making and enjoying national tofu day might be one of the gentlest ways to honor history and feed the soul.

National Blueberry Popsicle Day
2026-09-02
A Taste of Late Summer
It’s hard to say what triggers it first—cooler air or the thought of National Blueberry Popsicle Day. The holiday arrives on September 2, just as summer begins to fade but warm afternoons still linger. It’s a sweet reminder to slow down, savor the season’s final berries, and enjoy the simple pleasure of something icy, colorful, and handmade. Across kitchens and cafés, people take note of the day and remember how the popsicle—especially one bursting with blueberry flavor—connects them to both childhood and the closing notes of summer.

From Accident to Icon
The popsicle’s origin is a story of happy accident. In 1905, an eleven-year-old boy named Frank Epperson from Oakland, California, left a cup of powdered soda mix and water outside overnight with a stirring stick still in it. The next morning, it had frozen solid, and he had invented what he first called an “Epsicle.” Years later, as an adult, he patented his creation under the name “Popsicle,” after his children affectionately referred to it as “Pop’s Sicle.” The frozen treat took off in the 1920s and 30s, offering an affordable way for families to cool off during hot weather. By the mid-20th century, the popsicle had become an American summertime staple—simple, refreshing, and endlessly customizable.
Blueberry popsicles, in particular, highlight the best of late summer’s bounty. The deep indigo hue, the burst of tangy sweetness, and the ease of blending fresh or frozen berries make them irresistible. Whether made at home or bought from a local shop, they evoke sticky fingers, purple-stained smiles, and carefree afternoons.

The Joy of Making Popsicles
Making blueberry popsicles is less about precision and more about play. You can purée fresh blueberries with sugar and lemon juice for a bright, fruity flavor, or swirl in yogurt or coconut milk for creamy texture. The whirr of a blender, the pour of deep violet liquid into molds, and the quiet wait as they freeze all become part of the ritual. When you pull one out hours later—cool, frosty, and glistening—it feels like a small triumph. One bite, and you’re instantly transported back to childhood summers when the biggest worry was finishing your popsicle before it melted down your wrist.

Cool Creativity
What makes blueberry popsicles so delightful is their versatility. They can be tart or sweet, dairy-free or creamy, simple or layered. Mix blueberries with honey and mint for a refreshing twist, or add a drizzle of balsamic reduction for an elegant dessert version. Combine them with strawberries, peaches, or blackberries for a berry medley that tastes like sunshine frozen in time. My fondest memories of late summer always seem to include a group of friends, a freezer full of popsicles, and the easy laughter that comes with sticky hands and cool lips.

Why National Blueberry Popsicle Day Matters
When September 2 rolls around, National Blueberry Popsicle Day serves as both a celebration and a reminder—a celebration of the season’s sweetness and a reminder that joy doesn’t have to be complicated. The popsicle’s simplicity is its magic: it’s made with what you have on hand, shared without pretense, and always savored too quickly. In a world that moves fast, taking a few minutes to make or enjoy one is an act of mindfulness—an ode to slowing down, cooling off, and finding delight in the fleeting warmth of summer’s end.

Ways to Celebrate National Blueberry Popsicle Day

Make your own: Blend blueberries with sugar, lemon juice, and water or juice, then pour into molds and freeze overnight.
Try something new: Swirl blueberries with vanilla yogurt, coconut milk, or cream for a creamy twist.
Go gourmet: Add herbs like basil or mint, or a splash of honey and lime for a bright flavor boost.
Share the sweetness: Make extra batches to hand out to friends, family, or neighbors on a warm afternoon.
Host a popsicle party: Set up a DIY station with fruit, juices, and molds so everyone can create their own flavor combinations.
Celebrate locally: Visit a farmers’ market or ice cream shop and enjoy a handmade blueberry pop from a local maker.

National Grits for Breakfast Day
2026-09-02
A Bowl Full of Comfort
The first hint of fall often sends me rummaging for ingredients to make grits for breakfast. It’s a meal that invites neighbors and families to linger a little longer at the table. Across kitchens and cafés, people take note of the date and celebrate National Grits for Breakfast Day, remembering how this humble dish connects them to seasons past and present—mornings when the air was cool, coffee steamed, and butter melted slowly into golden swirls.

From Native Fields to Southern Kitchens
Grits have deep roots in American history. Long before there was a holiday devoted to them, Indigenous peoples in the Southeastern United States were grinding dried corn into coarse meal to make nourishing porridges. When European settlers arrived, they adopted these methods, adding their own touches and turning grits into a staple of Southern cuisine. Over time, the dish evolved from survival food to comfort food, served at both humble family breakfasts and elegant brunch tables.
Grits became woven into the South’s cultural identity, from shrimp and grits on coastal tables to cheesy baked grits in mountain kitchens. They carry with them a story of adaptation and resilience—of resourcefulness born from necessity and of creativity born from care. Today, they remain a reminder of shared history and simple abundance.

The Quiet Joy of Cooking Grits
Making grits is an act of patience and rhythm. There’s the gentle simmer of water or milk, the slow pour of coarse meal, and the soft sound of stirring until the texture turns silky. The transformation feels almost alchemical—the way corn and time become something creamy, hearty, and satisfying. Whether stirred with butter, cheese, or cream, or kept simple with a dash of salt, each bowl feels like a return to something familiar and grounding.

Endless Variations, One Comforting Base
What I love about National Grits for Breakfast Day is how versatile the dish can be. Some prefer theirs savory—with shrimp, bacon, or a poached egg on top—while others lean sweet, adding brown sugar, honey, or fresh fruit. In some homes, grits are stirred thick enough to hold a spoon upright; in others, they’re left loose and creamy, perfect for drizzling with butter. My fondest memories involve mismatched bowls at the kitchen table, laughter echoing as friends compared whose grits were creamier or spicier. It’s a dish that sparks conversation as easily as it satisfies hunger.

Why National Grits for Breakfast Day Matters
When September 2 arrives, National Grits for Breakfast Day offers both nostalgia and renewal—a chance to slow down and celebrate a food that has sustained communities for centuries. Grits embody the best of comfort cooking: simple ingredients, prepared with love, served with pride. In a world that often rushes past the morning meal, taking the time to stir, season, and savor a bowl of grits might just be one of the gentlest ways to honor history and feed the soul.

Ways to Celebrate National Grits for Breakfast Day

Cook a classic: Make creamy buttered grits with salt, pepper, and a pat of melting butter in the center.
Go savory: Top your grits with shrimp, bacon, or sautéed vegetables for a hearty Southern-style breakfast.
Sweeten it up: Add brown sugar, honey, or berries for a comforting morning twist.
Get cheesy: Stir in cheddar or pimento cheese for an extra-rich version worthy of brunch.
Learn the roots: Read about the Indigenous and African influences that shaped the dish’s history.
Share the warmth: Invite friends or family over for breakfast and let everyone build their own bowl of grits with toppings galore.

National Cabernet Sauvignon Day
2026-09-03
Cabernet Sauvignon has earned the title ‘king of red grapes’. It arose in 17th‑century Bordeaux as an accidental cross between Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc, inheriting thick skins and small berries from its parents. Those traits give the wine deep colour, robust tannins and the ability to age gracefully. Over the centuries Cabernet spread across the world, finding expression in California’s Napa Valley, Chile’s Maipo and Australia’s Coonawarra. The grape’s adaptability and structure make it a favourite for blending, as in Bordeaux reds, but it also shines solo. International Cabernet Sauvignon Day is celebrated on the Thursday before Labor Day—a date that moves but always signals the end of summer. The holiday encourages wine lovers to explore cabernet’s range, from affordable fruit‑driven bottles to cellar‑worthy classics. When you pour a glass, note the aromas of blackcurrant, plum and cedar, the flavours that unfurl across your tongue and the grippy tannins that demand hearty food. Serve cabernet with grilled steaks, aged cheddar or dark chocolate to highlight its depth. The day is also an opportunity to learn about the grape’s history, the winemakers who have coaxed its best qualities and the regions that have adopted it. Raising a glass is a toast to centuries of viticulture and the vines that bridge continents.

National Baby Back Ribs Day
2026-09-03
The Taste of Late Summer
September mornings have a way of making National Baby Back Ribs Day taste even better. It conjures childhood memories, smoky air, and the warmth of kitchens and backyards long ago. Across patios, cafés, and barbecue joints, people take note of September 3 and remember how this hearty dish connects them to seasons past and present—a feast that signals the close of summer and the lingering sweetness of slow, shared meals.

From the Smokehouse to the Spotlight
Before there was a holiday for baby back ribs, there was a centuries-long love affair with pork and smoke. Barbecue traditions in the United States grew from a mix of Native American cooking techniques, Caribbean seasoning styles, and African American pit mastery developed in the South. Ribs, once considered a humble cut, became a showcase of patience and skill. Baby back ribs—smaller, more tender ribs taken from high on the pig’s back near the spine—emerged as a restaurant favorite in the mid-20th century, prized for their tenderness and perfect balance between lean meat and fat.
It wasn’t until the late 20th century, however, that baby back ribs achieved nationwide fame. Chains like Chili’s popularized the dish with their sweet, sticky sauces, and the now-famous jingle—“I want my baby back, baby back, baby back…”—cemented their place in American pop culture. But the essence of good ribs has always transcended marketing: it’s the slow-cooked tenderness, the smoky aroma curling into the air, and the joy of eating something best enjoyed with your hands.

The Art of Cooking Ribs
Making baby back ribs is a labor of love. You start by peeling away the thin membrane on the underside of the rack, seasoning it with a dry rub of salt, pepper, paprika, brown sugar, and spices. Then comes the slow part—hours of low, steady heat. Whether cooked in a smoker, on a grill, or in an oven, the goal is the same: to render fat, tenderize meat, and build layers of flavor. Some cooks swear by a vinegar mop sauce to keep the ribs moist; others baste with thick barbecue glaze near the end to create that caramelized sheen that sticks to your fingers. When done right, the bones slide clean, and every bite carries a whisper of smoke and sweetness.

Regional Flavors, Universal Joy
What makes ribs so special is how every region—and every cook—adds their own touch. In Memphis, the sauce is tangy and tomato-based, while Kansas City leans sweet and thick. Carolina-style ribs might come with a vinegar or mustard sauce, while in Texas, the focus stays on dry rubs and pure smoke. Baby back ribs have also found new interpretations: Korean-inspired ribs glazed with gochujang, or Caribbean versions marinated with lime and allspice. My fondest memories involve a small backyard grill, a mismatched set of plates, and friends laughing over smoky clouds as we compared sauces and shared second helpings. Ribs have a way of slowing time and bringing people closer.

Why National Baby Back Ribs Day Matters
When September 3 rolls around, National Baby Back Ribs Day serves as both celebration and reflection. It honors the craft of cooking and the communities built around it—the pitmasters tending coals, the families gathering outdoors, the simple joy of sticky hands and satisfied appetites. The day reminds us that food doesn’t just fill us; it tells stories of migration, invention, and shared tradition. Whether enjoyed from a restaurant booth or a backyard grill, ribs capture what’s best about American cooking: patience, flavor, and connection.

Ways to Celebrate National Baby Back Ribs Day

Fire up the grill: Make your own baby back ribs with a homemade dry rub and slow cook them until the meat falls off the bone.
Try regional sauces: Sample different barbecue styles—Memphis, Kansas City, Carolina, and Texas—to discover your favorite flavor profile.
Host a rib cookout: Invite friends and family for a late-summer barbecue and turn it into a friendly rib competition.
Support local pitmasters: Visit a local barbecue restaurant and celebrate the craft and care that go into smoked ribs.
Experiment globally: Make international-inspired versions, like Korean-style ribs with sesame glaze or jerk-seasoned ribs with pineapple salsa.
Share your table: Pack up a rack to share with a neighbor or friend—barbecue tastes better when it’s passed around.
