In this two-part series, we explore how global flavors – initially known as “ethnic food” and viewed as downmarket takeaway fare, meant to be filling and satisfying a craving for spice – has now been positioned on menus as options and substantially integrated into American cuisine. We also profile restauranteurs who are doing just that. We’ll trace how the cuisine that was typified by quaint family-run establishments, has now entered mainstream restaurants and even fine dining establishments.
While curry may not be the national dish in the USA as it is in the United Kingdom with over a billion meals consumed by Britons, annually (in a country of just 67 million people, according to its last census), other dishes like pizza are now perhaps more American than Italian. Of course, we’re not referring to origin but more how the dish has evolved in this country in terms form and varity.
Recent trends in dining culture have demonstrated that the story of pizza in the United States was really just a sign of things to come.
How Global Flavors Became Part of Americana
As a college student on the go, few things met my food cravings more than a chicken shawarma heated in a sandwich press so the pita bread was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Easy on the wallet, bold on taste, and high on convenience, the shawarma stall served up satisfying fuel before afternoon or evening classes. (Not necessarily good before a date, for I must admit, heavy garlic doesn’t just keep away vampires.)
The eatery I frequented, located but a few minutes dash from campus in a large metropolitan area, was run by a man named Karim with help from his sister (until she was sent to Lebanon to get married). It was a modest hole-in-the wall similar in setup to others, having spartan décor but cosmopolitan character. One could hear English, Arabic, and French spoken interchangeably behind the counter. With the scent of rosewater and Middle Eastern spices wafting from counter to doorway, combined with the sound of the rebab and other West Asian instruments introduced to Lebanon via the Silk Road, playing softly in the background, it served as a portal to a different land.
During this period, I befriended a Lebanese Christian student studying on a student visa, and he noticed I frequented the cramped eatery. So, one evening, he invited me to accompany him and a group of expats from the Persian Gulf region – also students – to a restaurant called The Tent, which he claimed was a more authentic measure of the cuisine of his homeland.
We paid our visit on a Saturday night, which was Program Night. That evening featured an Arabic singer and an emigre belly-dancer from Argentina – though also an Arab – for then as now, Lebanese and Syrian communities thrive in that enclave of South America. To manage the added cost of entertainment, the restaurant charged a flat fee for every customer but served a sampling of everything on the menu. It was expensive by student standards, but my friend had negotiated a discount with the owners for the ‘poor students’ in his party – something of a stereotypical portrait of Arabian culture.
Starting with stuffed vine leaves, hummus and baba ghanoush, different marinated meats grilled on charcoal served as succulent stars to supporting roles of salad and garlic potatoes. There was even a steak tartar, which my friend feigned to kill before lapping it up (kind of over-the-top for my taste). Then, in a twist, which came as a stark reminder that roughly half of Lebanon is bordered by the Mediterranean Sea, a seafood sizzler was served containing a mix of calamari, prawns, and octopus, sautéed with garlic, tahini, and lemon. Baklava followed for dessert. Through it all, we imbibed Arak, the national, anise-flavored liqueur of Lebanon, renowned as the "milk of lions" for forming a milky-white suspension of fine granules when mixed with water – a necessity for a spirit concentrated to almost 50% alcohol. (Lebanon’s white nectar wasn’t covered in the flat fee, of course.) As one might imagine, by the end of the evening, from my perspective, anyway, the subway home gained the momentum of a rocket!
Even back then, The Tent was indicative of the preparation of a cuisine which most diners had relegated to mom-and-pop outlets, already graduating to high-end offerings, beginning that proud ascent to the echelons of fine dining. That said, Middle Eastern food held well within the purview of what was commonly known as ‘ethnic’.
Then and Now
Today, in American restaurants, the question is no longer whether diners will accept global flavors; rather, it is how far chefs can go in delivering them as we’ll find out from restaurant entrepreneur Micheal Shemtov – whose internationally themed restaurant Butcher and Bee, has become a staple in Nashville. His success there demonstrates that even in the parochial Deep South, diners are reaching beyond borders when planning on eating out.
From Korean fried chicken in fast-casual chains to West African tasting menus in fine dining rooms, global cuisine has moved from the margins of immigrant enclaves to the centre of the American plate. What was labelled ‘ethnic food’ during my college years has increasingly just become, well…food.
This transformation is not anecdotal. On the contrary, it is measurable and has been quantified. Nearly half of U.S. consumers (47 percent) reported in 2025, that they partook of globally-influenced meals during any given week, up from just 28 percent in 2017, while 70 percent of restaurant operators say demand for global flavors is rising. In parallel, around 40 percent of Americans—especially Millennials and Gen Z—eat such foods three or more times weekly.
Indeed, global flavors were second only to comfort food for respondents of a survey by Food Technology called 2025 Consumer Trends Outlook, which inquired, last year, about the qualities that consumers look for in foods and beverages.
Combined, these data points create a graph that that can be interpreted as a paradigm shift in how Americans dine.
From 'Ethnic Trinity' to a Global Pantry
For decades, America’s international food landscape was dominated by a familiar trio: Italian, Chinese and Mexican food. These remain deeply embedded in American dining culture, but the centre of gravity in the industry is shifting. Newer entrants to the restaurant space such as Vietnamese, Korean, Filipino, Peruvian and West Asian, and Nigerian food – are now among the fastest-growing in the dining industry.
The appeal likely lies specialization. Consumers are no longer satisfied with broad classes like “Asian” or “Latin.” Instead, they are “niching out,” seeking regional authenticity – chicken sauced with Oaxacan mole rather than generic Mexican, northern Thai rather than pan-Asian or South Indian rather than curry. Dishes like birria, bulgogi, and my old favorite, the shawarma have become entry points into deeper culinary exploration.
Crucially, access is no longer a barrier. Around 88 percent of Americans now live near a globally influenced restaurant, and 78 percent have access to international grocery stores. What once required travel or proximity to immigrant neighborhoods is now embedded in many localities.
Michael Shemtov whose career as restauranteur began right after finishing college, knows this evolution well. His Butcher and Bee restaurant in Nashville, which many would consider a modern take on Middle Eastern food, echoes the cuisine of his ancestors. Shemtov, a Baghdadi Jew whose family moved to Israel before coming to America was brought up in a family that identifies with cooking – and he’s found a market for it in Nashville.
“Nashville isn’t what it used to be,” he said as he explained how locals are increasingly expecting global options.
Although his own journey began with opening a pizzeria, part of a franchise chain, Shemtov returned to his roots with Butcher and Bee – but not before marrying the daughter of the franchise founder!
“I sort of like authenticity, and I like to tell authentic stories, and so what felt authentic to me was, you know, [being] born in the Middle East, and growing up in the Middle East, and having Middle Eastern parents… I felt like I could authentically present this cuisine,” he said.
For Shemtov, it’s not just about a particular cuisine; rather, he emphasizes appreciating food that is fresh and in season. “I want you to know where you are in the season and where you are in the world when you eat at a Butcher & Bee, that too with Mediterranean and Middle Eastern influences,” he asserted.
Shemtov’s sentiments on seasonality are mirrored by Diego Alonso Ortega Oneto, executive chef at The Ritz-Carlton, Sarasota. “For me, global cuisine is the ability to work with ingredients that were once difficult to source but are now accessible so long as we respect their seasonality. Traveling also allows me to learn directly from local chefs, understand their culinary heritage, and absorb their techniques. These experiences inspire future menu development within our restaurants,” he said.
Indeed, Victor King, Head Chef of Birmingham, Ala.-based, The Essential, which features Southern favorites reinvented with a worldly twist, having grown up on a farm, reiterates the importance of letting seasonality guide one’s menu. While bold flavors from different countries are in vogue, he said, “I think the more important thing is to use is to use seasonal ingredients. And that's what we do.”
Indian restaurants, which specialize in seafood are doing the same – using locally sourced fish instead of frozen imported produce that would be in line with the traditional fish preparations. For instance, the restaurant, Moksha – Indian Kitchen & Bar, located in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., uses gulf fish in their dishes and notably features a tandoori octopus baked in their clay tandoor oven – a favorite among seafood afficionados. Other restaurants in northern states substitute salmon, for local Indian fish. Saffron by the Sea, which is a New England Indian restaurant has dishes featuring cod and king mackerel. These varieties of USA-sourced fish would never make it into seafood dishes in South Asia. Still, the texture and flavor of the local fish take well to the spices used – some being tomato-based curries – others being mustard and yogurt sauce, or coconut milk and curry leaf-based preparations.
Sanjeev Kapoor, the acclaimed Indian gourmet chef and TV personality attributes the substitutions to immigrants experimenting with local fish in their traditional curries. Also, it’s very easy to take something different, marinate it in tandoor or tikka marinade, and bake it in a tandoor oven for those restaurant owners who have invested in them. They’re typically needed for naan and kebabs anyway, experimenting with different proteins and vegetables – more significantly, local and seasonally available ingredients and roasting them in Indian spices, is a way to go about adaptation without losing tradition. That said, for Indian restauranteurs who’ve retrofitted Tex Mex restaurants into Indian establishments, a barbeque can be easily used for tandoor and tikka dishes – and it works almost as well.
Sometimes a simple variation can take a traditionally American dish and make it Indian-American. Moksha, for instance, does a lobster tail butter reduction to which they add saffron. In the end, it’s basically an American dish but with a subtle international element in the saffron added to finish it off. The dish demonstrates that small additions or alterations like those also used in The Essential, can seamlessly internationalize a more traditional American menu item, blurring the lines between global and local.