At 250, America is united on a great many things. Life. Liberty. And, of course, the pursuit of happiness—a pursuit that has led these United States to develop a unique culinary identity unlike anywhere else in the world.
From sea to shining sea, Americans have adopted, adapted, and evolved the culinary traditions of their ancestors while creating bold regional flavors all their own. And naturally, sausage—the gloriously ubiquitous kitchen staple found in cultures around the world—plays a huge part.
In the U.S., every state has its own culinary identity. Yet there’s one thing that seems to bind them: a love of sausage. From Cajun feasts to stadium dogs, street-food classics to bubbling casseroles, sausage is often at the heart of American comfort food.
To celebrate the country’s 250th—as well as the fact that The Sausage Project’s better-for-you chicken links are now available coast to coast—we dug into each state’s most beloved foods to find the dishes that don’t just taste like home… they also taste like sausage.
Each dish is tied to the culinary identity of the state that claims it. And in many instances, swapping in chicken sausage represents the next evolution of the dish. After all, American food is all about adaptation, and our chicken sausages are designed for versatility.
Quick note: This list is dedicated specifically to dishes where sausage plays an integral part. That means some states won’t have an official pick. Sometimes it’s better to admit defeat than force sausage into apple pie. Although… maybe we should?
Alabama: Conecuh Sausage
What it is: Conecuh County, Alabama produces the hickory-smoked pork “Sausage of the South” so beloved that locals refer to it simply as "Conecuh," the way New Yorkers say "the city." Sold at gas stations, tailgates, and basically any gathering where Alabamians are within 40 feet of an open flame, Conecuh has a cult following that's less food preference and more regional identity.
Will it chicken sausage? Conecuh is so tied to its specific smoke profile and pork fat that this one's about appreciating the original—though our Classic Roasted would hold its own on any Alabama grill and tastes great with white BBQ sauce.
Alaska: Reindeer Sausage
What it is: Alaska's indigenous communities have been smoking and curing reindeer meat for centuries, long before it became a staple at Anchorage street carts. Gamey, smoky, and aggressively savory, a reindeer sausage on a stick or in a bun is to Alaska what a dirty water dog is to New York. That is, absolutely essential.
Will it chicken sausage? Hard no—this one belongs to Alaska, and chickens aren’t reindeer (citation needed).
Arizona: Sonoran Hot Dog
What it is: Wrapped in bacon, nestled in a bolillo-style bun, and buried under pinto beans, diced tomatoes, onion, mayo, mustard, and crema, the Sonoran dog is what happens when the culinary traditions of northern Mexico and southern Arizona decide to co-parent a hot dog across borders. Born in Hermosillo and perfected in Tucson, it's a reminder that the best American regional food often comes from somewhere else first.
Will it chicken sausage? Swap in a Classic Roasted link, keep the bacon wrap, go nuts.
Recipe: Melty Cheddar Sonoran Dogs
Arkansas
Tried though we may, we didn’t find any sausage-specific dishes for The Natural State, although smoked bologna is a thing to behold at BBQ pits around the state.
California: L.A. Street Dogs
What it is: Like its cousin in Arizona, L.A.’s ubiquitous street food starts with a bacon-wrapped sausage, which sizzles on flat-top grills stationed en masse outside of venues, bars, tourist destinations, and parks at twilight like some sort of mythical culinary lycan. Lovingly called danger dogs, they’re served alongside grilled peppers and onions, which combine with the bacon to create a savory olfactory fog citywide.
Will it chicken sausage: Our chefs engineered a bacon-wrapped tribute to our LA home featuring Melty Cheddar Chicken Sausage and a hint of gojughang in a nod to another LA institution—K-Town.
Recipe: Bacon-Wrapped Melty Cheddar L.A. Dog
Colorado
Sausage-specific dishes aren’t among Colorado’s dishes. However, we must maintain that sausage (and chicken sausage) taste pretty spectacular with the state’s signature green chili.
Connecticut: New Haven Pizza
What it is: New Haven has long been a contender for the best pizza city on the planet thanks to its thin, slightly misshapen coal-fired pies. We’re not here to argue whether they take the top spot in the pizza wars (or about the virtues of the signature white clam pie). But we will say that sausage is perhaps the best ingredient to throw on a New Haven pie.
Will it chicken sausage: Beautifully. Just dice up some Italian Herb, toss it on your pie and you’ve got a less-fatty way to devour a slice.
Delaware
Unfortunately, Delaware’s cuisine doesn’t have a universal sausage delicacy (unless you want to count scrapple, though we’re giving that one to Pennsylvania). However, the deep-fried sausage sandwich at Helen’s Sausage House in Smyrna is a thing of oft-imitated beauty.
Florida: Tampa Cubano
What it is: The Cuban sandwich was invented in Tampa, a fact Miami will contest for eternity, and will continue to be wrong about. What makes Tampa's version definitive—besides being first—is the inclusion of Genoa salami along with the ham, mojo pork, pickles, and Swiss. It’s a nod to the Italian immigrant workers who built Ybor City alongside their Cuban neighbors. It's a sandwich that contains multitudes.
Will it chicken sausage? Salami’s pretty singular. Appreciate this one as-is.
Georgia
Georgia's one of the most stacked culinary states in the union, yet somehow none of its signature dishes revolves around sausage. That's not to say Georgians don't love a good link—they absolutely do—but when your culinary résumé already includes peaches, pecans, Brunswick stew, and fried chicken, sausage never quite became the headliner. You'll find outstanding biscuits & gravy all over the state, yes, but that's a Southern staple rather than a uniquely Georgian creation.
Hawaii: Puka Dog
What it is: A brioche-style bun gets a hole skewered through it, stacked inside with tropical fruit relish and a garlic lemon sauce, then a Polish sausage fills the void, which is more than most therapists could say. It sounds unhinged. It is, in the best possible way. The original stand on Poipu Beach in Kauai has a line that would make a Disney Land ride blush.
Will it chicken sausage? The tropical relish does enough work that a leaner link actually lets the fruit flavors breathe. Classic Roasted fits here like a lei at the airport.
Idaho: Potato Dog
What it is: Idaho is to potatoes what Wisconsin is to cheese and Kentucky is to horses—it's not just an agricultural product, it's a personality trait. Except Kentuckians don’t eat horses.
The potato dog, served at Boise Hawks minor league games and various state fair iterations, stuffs a hot dog into a split baked potato instead of a bun, then loads it with sour cream, cheese, and chives. It is the logical endpoint of Idaho's entire brand identity, and something you probably considered doing yourself in college and thought you were the broke Jacques Pépin.
Will it chicken sausage? Swap in a Melty Cheddar link and the cheese-on-cheese situation reaches a level of harmony that would make a Boise farmer stop his tractor.
Illinois: Chicago Dog
What it is: A steamed Vienna Beef dog on a poppy seed bun, dragged through the garden with yellow mustard, white onion, Swamp Thing relish, tomato, a dill pickle spear, sport peppers, and celery salt… and absolutely, undeniably, go-straight-to-jail, never ketchup. The Chicago dog has rules. It has standards. It will not negotiate. Asking for ketchup at a proper Chicago stand is less a condiment request and more a declaration of criminal intent.
Will it chicken sausage? The architecture here is sacred, but a Classic Roasted link piled with giardiniera and fixings? Nobody's going to kick you out.
Indiana: Hoosier Stew
What it is: Sometimes, simplicity is bliss. Especially if there's sausage involved. This staple of practical Midwestern cooking has been doing the one-pot thing since long before it was trendy. Sausage, beans, onions, potatoes, broth. That's it. That's the dish. And unlike Indiana's other signature food—the breaded tenderloin sandwich—Hoosier Stew doesn't come with a side of people from Iowa trying to claim they invented it.
Will it chicken sausage: Classic Roasted Chicken Sausage would fit right into a hearty pot of Hoosier Stew, while Italian Herb would add a welcome punch of fennel and Calabrian chili.
Iowa: State Fair Grinder
What it is: Iowa is one of the state fair capitals of America. Interestingly, though, it's not one of the states that claims to have invented the corn dog (more on that later). This state fair legend, on the other hand, is indisputably Iowan. It's sort of like if a chopped cheese got lost in New Jersey, then decided to become a sloppy joe. Juicy ground sausage, ground beef, pizza sauce, and mozzarella melt into one gloriously sloppy sandwich that, somehow, people willingly eat immediately before climbing aboard a Tilt-A-Whirl. Iowa's a magical place.
Will it chicken sausage: You could chop up some chicken sausage, sure, but it’s best to use ground sausage here.
Kansas: Bierocks
What it is: A bierock is a warm, pillowy yeast dough pocket stuffed with ground beef, cabbage, and onion, brought to Kansas by German-Russian Mennonite immigrants in the 19th century and subsequently adopted as the state's de facto comfort food. Runza, Nebraska's version, gets more national attention, but Kansas Bierocks were here first, and they'd like a word. As with any Eastern European foodstuff, it features cabbage and, frequently and nontraditionally, sausage.
Will it chicken sausage? Swap the ground beef for Italian Herb Chicken Sausage and you've got a bierock that hits hard.
Kentucky: Burgoo
What it is: A thick, slow-cooked stew with roots in Kentucky's frontier days, burgoo traditionally contains whatever protein was available—mutton, pork, chicken—alongside vegetables, and simmers long enough that everything surrenders its identity to the pot. It's Derby Day's other tradition, served in massive quantities at pre-race gatherings where the bourbon flows freely.
Will it chicken sausage? Slice a few Italian Herb links in there and they'll absorb into the broth like they've been part of the recipe for 150 years.
Louisiana: Gumbo
What it is: One of the South’s most beloved sausage-based dishes—which is really saying something—gumbo lives at the crossroads of comfort and tradition. It blurs the line between soup and stew, surf and turf, and pulls together West African and French influences into a layered, deeply satisfying bowl that’s unmistakably Louisiana. This is a quintessential American original, and sausage plays a quintessential role.
Will it chicken sausage: While andouille is the sausage of choice for most recipes, we’re partial to throwing Classic Roasted into the mix.
Recipe: Chicken Sausage and Shrimp Gumbo
Maine: Red Snappers
What it is: Maine's red snappers have nothing to do with fish—the bright red, natural-casing hot dogs made with a beef-and-pork blend and snapped into existence by W.A. Bean & Sons, who've been making them in Bangor since 1918. The "snap" refers to the satisfying resistance of the natural casing when you bite in, a sensation that, once experienced, makes every other hot dog feel far less onomatopoeic. Served steamed or griddled at clam shacks and summer camps across the state, they're as Maine as L.L. Bean and quietly resenting “people from away.”
Will it chicken sausage? The snap is the thing here, and our natural pork casing delivers a good facsimile. But no, it’s not red.
Maryland
Maryland may be synonymous with blue crabs, crab cakes, and pit beef, but it never really developed a signature sausage dish of its own. Sure, you'll find Polish sausages sizzling at Orioles games and cookouts across the state, but unlike some of its neighbors, Maryland's culinary identity belongs to the Chesapeake.
Massachusetts: South Shore Bar Pizza with Linguiça
What it is: While the rest of the world argues about New York versus Neapolitan, the towns south of Boston have been quietly saying “YA THINK YA BETTAH THAN ME?” about their own thing: A small, crispy-edged, sauce-heavy pizza baked in a well-oiled pan and served in dive bars that smell like it hasn’t been cleaned since Larry Bird retired. The South Shore bar pizza with linguiça—a garlicky, paprika-forward Portuguese sausage—is the version that makes the argument that Massachusetts has had the best pizza in America this whole time and simply didn't talk to people not from there about it. Very Massachusetts.
Will it chicken sausage? Italian Herb on a bar pizza, with that same sauce-heavy approach? Yes, please.
Michigan: The Coney Dog
What it is: No, the Coney dog doesn't come from New York. And no, it's not just a chili dog. Although... it is a chili dog. Kind of. Michiganders' devotion to their hometown take on this classic is firmly of the ride-or-die variety. In Flint, you'll find a dry "coney sauce" made with ground beef heart, kidneys, and even hot dogs (trust us, it's a good thing), topped with mustard and onions. Jackson's version leans into Macedonian spices. In Detroit, a loose, savory chili acts as the glue beneath the mustard and onions. Coney shops dot nearly every corner of the Motor City, and the two most famous—American and Lafayette—sit right next door to one another, forever locked in one of America's greatest food rivalries.
Will it chicken sausage: Purists will insist it has to be a Koegel's or Dearborn, and frankly, we respect that. But we also have zero complaints about slathering a Melty Cheddar Chicken Sausage with authentic Michigan-made coney sauce.
Minnesota: Hot Dish
What it is: Cold nights call for warm comfort, and this midwestern dish is basically a big hug from your favorite aunt who is also wearing a wool center. Born of thriftiness at the grocery store, it’s a tater-tot casserole that employs creamy soup concentrate, frozen veggies, and pretty much anything else in the fridge. While sausage isn't mandatory, it's a longtime favorite addition—and a welcome one at that.
Will it chicken sausage: You betcha!
Mississippi: Seafood Boil
What it is: The flavors of the gulf are the flavors of summer, and they go so well together that all you really need to do is throw them in a pot. Shrimp, crawdads, clams, mussels, lobster tails? If you got ‘em, chuck ‘em in the pot with sausage, corn, and broth. When it’s done, dump it on a table, drizzle with garlic butter and Cajun seasoning, and get ready for a nap.
Will it chicken sausage: Chicken sausage absolutely belongs in your big ol’ flavor bucket.
Missouri: St. Louis Slinger
What it is: A Slinger is what you order at a St. Louis diner at 2 a.m. after a night that's gotten away from you—two eggs over easy on top of a hamburger patty on top of hash browns, buried under chili and cheese, and served with a side of sausage links. It is not a meal so much as a monument to ambition and questionable decisions. St. Louis diners have been serving them since the 1930s, and every iteration is slightly different, because nobody who orders a Slinger at 2 a.m. is in a position to nitpick.
Will it chicken sausage? The side sausage links are literally the assignment. Classic Roasted, done.
Montana
Montana’s a state with a rich culinary scene, and you can easily find sausage dishes (and amazing bison sausages) around the state. But alas, there’s not a singular signature dish statewide. Still, grilling sausages under the big sky should be on everybody’s to-do list.
Nebraska
Honestly, Nebraska is rich with incredible regional dishes—this is the place that invented the Reuben, after all, and a runza is a thing of beauty. Sausage isn’t a key ingredient in any of them, but if you want to stuff a runza with Melty Cheddar, we promise it’d be good!
Nevada: Basque Chorizo
What it is: Nevada's Basque community—descended from shepherds who arrived in the 19th century and apparently looked at the high desert and said, “Yeah, that’ll do”—built a food culture so distinct, it's practically its own country, which tracks if you know anything about the Basque Country. Basque chorizo—garlicky and paprika-red—anchors the family-style Basque dinners served at longtime Reno and Elko institutions where wine comes in carafes and strangers share tables. It's the rare Nevada culinary tradition with nothing to do with a $1.99 buffet or a celebrity chef residency.
Will it chicken sausage? This one's about the Basque tradition. Appreciate the original.
New Hampshire
It's not that New Hampshire doesn't have great food—it's that none of the dishes most closely associated with the Granite State happens to revolve around sausage. Maple syrup? Absolutely. Apple cider donuts? You bet. But a signature sausage dish? That's one mystery even we couldn't crack.
New Jersey: Italian Dog
What it is: Born in Newark's Ironbound district and perfected at joints like Jimmy Buff's, the Italian dog is a deep-fried hot dog nestled into a round of pizza bread—not a hot dog bun, PIZZA BREAD—with fried potatoes, peppers, and onions piled on top. It is aggressively, unapologetically New Jersey in the way that only something deep-fried and stuffed into bread can be. If the Sopranos had an official sandwich, this would be it, and Tony would absolutely complain that it wasn't as good as his mother used to make.
Will it chicken sausage? Deep-fry an Italian Herb, load it into pizza bread with the peppers and onions, and you've got something that would make a guy named Sal’s heart gladly stop.
New Mexico
Another state without a dish defined with sausage, sure, but let’s think about all the wonderful New Mexican dishes that you could (and should) add chicken sausage to. Enchiladas. Chile rellenos. Green chile stew. Heck, green chile everything. Posole. We could do this all day.
New York: Garbage Plate
What it is: A Rochester original, the Garbage Plate is exactly what it sounds like and somehow better than you'd expect: A base of macaroni salad and home fries, topped with your choice of protein—hot dogs, cheeseburger, sausage—then blanketed in a spiced meat sauce, mustard, and raw onion. Nick Tahou Hots has been serving them since 1918, and the name is trademarked, which means every competitor calls theirs a "trash plate.” Maybe the Brits would call it a “rubbish plate?”
Will it chicken sausage? Sausage is already one of the traditional protein options here. Italian Herb under that meat sauce is a legitimate upgrade.
North Carolina: Livermush
What it is: Livermush is also exactly what it sounds like—a loaf of pork liver, head parts, and cornmeal, sliced and pan-fried until the outside crisps and the inside stays soft. And if that description didn't scare you off, congratulations, you’re either from Piedmont, North Carolina, or you have the amygdala of Alex Honnold. A Western N.C. staple with roots in German immigrant butchering traditions, livermush is served on sandwiches with mustard and onion, eaten for breakfast, and defended with a ferocity usually reserved for college basketball allegiances. Mush Fest in Shelby is real. People attend voluntarily.
Will it chicken sausage? This one's a hard pass on the swap—livermush is its own thing entirely, and that's the point.
North Dakota
North Dakota has plenty of delicious culinary contributions, from kuchen to lefse to knoephla soup. But a truly sausage-forward signature dish? We couldn’t honestly find one. That said, would sliced chicken sausage be extremely good in a creamy bowl of knoephla soup? Absolutely. We’re not monsters.
Ohio: Polish Boy
What it is: A Cleveland original and a strong contender for the most chaotic regional hot dog in America, which is saying something. A Polish Boy is a kielbasa link in a bun, topped with a layer of fries, coleslaw, and barbecue sauce, in that order, because Cleveland has been doing things its own way since before the Guardians last won the World Series. Seti's Polish Boys on Kinsman Road is the institution, but the Polish Boy has spread across the city's BBQ joints like Edison bulbs across Millennial home decor.
Will it chicken sausage? Classic Roasted under fries, slaw, and BBQ sauce is a genuinely great idea. Don’t hesitate.
Oklahoma: Oklahoma State Meal
What it is: Fun fact: Oklahoma is the only state with an official state meal. But even if every one of the 50 Nifties came up with a “state meal,” the Okies’ would likely still cause gasps. The 13-course meal includes, but isn’t limited to, barbecued pork, chicken-fried steak, sausage, with biscuits and gravy, fried okra, squash, black eyed peas, cornbread, pecan pie, and grits. Good luck staying awake.
Will it chicken sausage: How can it not!? Everything else is in there!
Oregon: Corn Dogs
What it is: The origin of the corn dog is one of America's great culinary mysteries, with half a dozen states claiming they came up with it sometime in the 1930s. One of the strongest contenders is Pronto Pup in the tiny beach town of Rockaway Beach, which has been slinging corn-coated glizzies to sandy visitors for generations. Did they really invent it? The debate rages on. But they do have a coin-operated corn dog you can ride outside the restaurant, so we're giving Oregon the edge.
Will it chicken sausage: Absolutely. And since ours are healthier than the leading brands, you can feel (slightly) less guilty for eating a deep-fried sausage.
Pennsylvania: Lebanon Bologna
What it is: Lebanon County, Pennsylvania has given the world many things, but Lebanon bologna—a fermented, smoked beef sausage with a tangy, almost sour depth that no other deli meat can replicate—is the one worth driving for. Made by the Pennsylvania Dutch since the 1800s, it's cured, cold-smoked over hardwood, and sliced thin enough to see through, then eaten on sandwiches, crackers, or straight from the package standing over a sink in Lancaster County at 11 a.m. Seltzer's has been making it since 1902, and they will outlast us all.
Will it chicken sausage? Lebanon bologna is a singular, unreplicable thing. But put it on a charcuterie board next to a sliced Classic Roasted and watch both disappear at the same rate.
Rhode Island: Stuffies
What it is: Surf & turf typically conjures steak and lobster. In Rhode Island, the phrase is evocative of… well, probably steak and lobster, if we’re being honest. But real ones know that the perfect appetizer to that feast is another spin on the concept: the stuffed quahog. Meat from a quahog clam is removed from the shell and combined with breadcrumbs, spices, and—in many revered recipes—sausage, then reverse-shucked into their own shell and baked.
Will it chicken sausage: And while most recipes call for chorizo or linguiça, chicken sausage works too, allowing you to go full land, sea, and air at dinner.
South Carolina: Chicken Bog
What it is: A one-pot rice dish slow-cooked with chicken, smoked sausage, and enough aromatics to make your kitchen smell like souk in Marrakech, chicken bog is the Lowcountry's answer to the question nobody asked but everyone is glad got answered. The "bog" refers to the rice's consistency—looser than a pilaf, thicker than a soup—and the whole thing lands somewhere between jambalaya and a hug from your grandmother.
Will it chicken sausage? Italian Herb or Classic Roasted both disappear into the broth like they were born to swim in a bog.
South Dakota
If this article were called 50 States of Meat, South Dakota would be sitting pretty. But when it comes to signature sausage dishes, the cupboard's surprisingly bare. South Dakota's culinary identity is built around things like chislic, kuchen, and pheasant—not sausage. We looked high and low (mostly high, because of the Black Hills), but couldn't honestly crown a signature sausage dish. That's okay!
Tennessee: Smoked Bologna
What it is: Tennessee barbecue gets most of the headlines for ribs and pulled pork, but locals know another smoked meat deserves attention. A whole chunk of bologna is scored, slow-smoked until the edges curl into crispy petals, then sliced thick for sandwiches or eaten straight off the cutting board. It’sidiculously delicious.
Will it chicken sausage: Not this time. The whole point is the oversized bologna chub.
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Texas: Klobasnek
What it is: Czech immigrants settled Central Texas in the 1800s and brought kolache with them—a soft, pillowy pastry traditionally filled with fruit or sweet cheese. Then at some point a Texan looked at a fruit-filled pastry and said "what if we put sausage in it?" and the klobasnek was born, which Texans promptly started calling a kolache anyway, to the eternal exasperation of Czech purists. Now they're everywhere, from gas stations to dedicated kolache chains, and the sausage-and-jalapeño version specifically is what happens when two great cultures produce one perfect breakfast food.
Will it chicken sausage? A Classic Roasted link baked into a kolache dough with jalapeño and cheese is something we'd eat standing in a parking lot at 7 a.m. without a single regret. Here’s a solid recipe.
Recipe: Chicken Sausage Jalapeño Kolaches
Utah: Funeral Potatoes
What it is: Funeral potatoes are a Mormon comfort-food casserole—frozen hash browns, cream of chicken soup, sour cream, cheese, and a cornflake topping—served at post-funeral luncheons across Utah with such frequency that the state put them on a commemorative Olympic pin in 2002. They are rich, unapologetically starchy, and make you feel weirdly guilty about courting somebody’s death by craving them.
Will it chicken sausage? Fold sliced Classic Roasted into the casserole before baking and you've got a one-dish meal substantial enough to justify its own funeral pyre.
Vermont
Vermont may be one of America's greatest food states, but its culinary identity is built on maple syrup, cheddar cheese, apples, and dairy—not sausage. Luckily, all of those things pair beautifully with sausage.
Virginia: Brunswick Stew
What it is: Brunswick County, Virginia, and Brunswick, Georgia, have been arguing about who invented this since roughly forever, which is fitting for a stew that contains everything. Tomatoes, corn, lima beans, and whatever meat was available—originally squirrel, now usually chicken and pork—slow-cooked until thick enough to eat with a fork if you wanted to, though nobody does. Virginia's version skews smokier and meatier than Georgia's, and both sides are correct that the other is wrong.
Will it chicken sausage? Smoked sausage is already a common addition to modern Brunswick stew. Italian Herb sliced in during the last hour is a move that neither state will officially endorse but both would wholly enjoy.
Washington: Seattle Dogs
What it is: The Pacific Northwest’s cream cheese-slathered signature dates back to when its creator, Hadley Long, began selling hot dogs outside Seattle bars. Legend has it the idea grew out of the bagels and cream cheese he was already serving, eventually evolving into the city's beloved late-night specialty: a hot dog piled high with griddled onions and a generous schmear of cream cheese.
Will it chicken sausage: Absolutely. Our take swaps in chicken sausage while keeping all the creamy, oniony goodness intact. Bonus points if you wash it down with a local craft beer.
Recipe: Seattle-Style Chicken Sausage Dogs
West Virginia: Pepperoni Rolls
What it is: The pepperoni roll was invented in 1927 by Giuseppe Argiro at the Country Club Bakery in Fairmont, West Virginia, as a portable lunch for coal miners who needed something that wouldn't require refrigeration or utensils down a mine shaft. A soft white bread roll baked around sticks of pepperoni, with the fat rendering into the dough as it cooks.It is one of America's most elegant accidental inventions, born entirely from necessity and absolutely delicious for it. West Virginia claims it as the official state food, which says plenty about West Virginia culture.
Will it chicken sausage? No. However, bake Italian Herb links into soft roll dough, let the juice do its thing, and you've got something Giuseppe would recognize as a progenitor.
Wisconsin: Beer Brats
What it is: A Wisconsin beer brat is a bratwurst simmered in beer and onions before hitting the grill, which both par-cooks the sausage and gives you something to drink while you wait—two problems solved simultaneously, because “Why waste good beer” should basically be the Wisconsin state motto. Tailgate lots outside Lambeau Field and Camp Randall have been perfuming with this exact smell since before Brett Favre fell from grace as the local deity, and the debate over which beer to use is taken more seriously than most elections.
Will it chicken sausage? Simmer a Classic Roasted or Melty Cheddar in a good lager with onions, finish it on the grill, put it in a bun with stone-ground mustard. Yes. And feel free to drink the beer.
Wyoming: Pitchfork Fondue
What it is: No bubbling vats of cheese or dainty little forks here. This is fondue the cowboy way. Thick cuts of meat are skewered on a pitchfork and lowered into a vat of hot oil until perfectly cooked. It's the kind of chuckwagon spectacle that's become synonymous with Wyoming's ranching culture and wide-open spaces.
Will it chicken sausage? It can, and it absolutely should.
Bonus—Washington DC: Half-Smoke
What it is: A half-smoke is a coarsely ground, half-pork, half-beef smoked sausage served in a steamed bun with chili, onions, and mustard, and it has been the default order at Ben's Chili Bowl on U Street since 1958. In fact, America’s Glizzy-Eater-in-Chief, Barack Obama, loved them.
Will it chicken sausage? The chili-and-onion situation is doing real work here, and it would be fantastic with a Classic Roasted.