My childhood was built on signature dishes. Every Christmas morning, my stepdad would slip into the kitchen and slide a French toast into the oven. It was his mother’s recipe, and it would soak in a rich custard in the fridge the night before. By the time we were throwing the last balls of wrapping paper into the fireplace, the smell of breakfast would start wafting out of the oven. We’d all float on our tiptoes into the kitchen like cartoon characters. This is what Christmas was: a big scoop of decadent mess, soft as a cloud with a crunchy praline topping, alongside a mug of hot apple cider. I remember before parties my mom would be on the kitchen phone asking her friends if they were bringing “the dip,” “the brownies” or “the potato salad.” We knew what to expect and what everyone did best. It was tradition, and we never thought to try something new.
I write cookbooks for a living, so my life is especially saturated with culinary churn. When my friends and I get together, the buffet table is different every time. My adulthood was marked by kale and avocado toast, and I carry the battle scars of cacio e pepe, sriracha rising, zoodle as a verb, bulletproof coffee, everything bagel seasoning, matcha in everything. The closest millennials ever came to consistency was Alison Roman giving us #thestew (a spiced chickpea stew that took the internet by storm). In a constant push for reinvention and trending ingredients, I returned to the idea of having a signature dish. Showing up with the same dish over and over? That says: You can count on me.
When I was in my late 20s, my friends were hosting a Friendsgiving and one of the guests had a nightmarishly long list of dietary restrictions: no dairy, no wheat, no nuts, no soy, no seed oils, plus a few fun curveballs like no bell peppers and no bananas. (None of us were surprised when she came out as a MAHA maniac.) Since I am by my nature a people pleaser, I decided to make a flourless chocolate cake. I Frankensteined a few recipes together. It was so easy: melted chocolate, sugar, cocoa powder, olive oil, eggs and — this was my magic touch — some orange zest, salt and black pepper for flavor, baked at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 35 minutes.
Afterward, I started bringing it everywhere. People started texting me: “Can you bring the cake?” And just like that, my signature dish found me. After a decade, I can make it with my eyes closed. I’m never going to buy a canelé mold or have the patience for a sourdough starter, but I’m happy if my legacy is as that guy who brought the really good cake.
Like your astrological sign, what you bring says a lot about who you are. Dip people are caretakers: They just want everyone to get along. Cheese board people are natural curators and the most Type A people you’ll meet. Salad people are sunny optimists with a slight moral superiority complex. Bread people are romantics: They want to impress and seduce. Casserole people are stabilizers who bury emotions under more cheese. Cocktail people are the life of the party and a little dangerous after a certain hour. And dessert people want applause: We won’t admit it, but we absolutely want applause.
Just as important as what you bring is how you bring it. Put it in a good bowl and remember that food really pops when it’s on a contrasting color. Travel with your garnishes separately so you can assemble the dish just before serving. I’ve been on a lot of sets with a lot of food stylists, and I’ll tell you: a shower of herbs, a drizzle of olive oil, and fresh pepper and flaky salt will make anything look alive. The same goes for a quick dusting of powdered sugar or cocoa powder on dessert, or fresh sprigs of rosemary and sliced citrus in drinks.
There are a few simple guidelines to keep in mind as you cook up a signature dish of your own. First, be honest about your relationship to time. If you’re extremely punctual, bring appetizers. If you’re reliably late, bring drinks. If you’re stopping by later, bring dessert. Don’t throw off the flow of the party because of your inability to know yourself.
When you’re picking a signature dish, aim for the middle of the comfortable and crowd-pleasing Venn diagram. It should travel well, hold at room temperature and not require an oven, a stove or fridge space the minute you walk in the door. Things that will be a guaranteed hit at every party are a great onion dip, a perfect Caesar salad, a fluffy pile of focaccia, a big pot of meatballs or anything chocolate. A pitcher of margaritas is also always the correct answer.
The formula is simple: Easy to repeat + rave reviews + a real reflection of you = your signature dish. Maybe there’s some trial and error involved, but when people start texting: Can you bring the fill-in-the-blank? you’ll know you’ve found it. Developing a signature dish has been a small, radical act of consistency for me. And the best part is you’ll never have to Google “easy but impressive appetizer for 12” ever again.
Casey Elsass is the author of “What Can I Bring? Recipes to Help You Live Your Guest Life.” His writing has appeared in New York magazine, Bon Appétit and WSJ Off-Duty, and he has contributed recipes to NPR, Epicurious, Food Network, Delish and Food52.
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