19 Dishes Everyone Ate For Dinner In The '70s

In the '70s, it was all about stretching the dollar, which meant adding filler to more expensive ingredients and making every meal count. Anything that could be made with a cream-of-something soup can was a beloved recipe in the 1970s. The Great Inflation that stretched into the '80s had Americans pinching pennies, but that didn't mean they couldn't get creative.

The decade was defined by practical cooking that generally prioritized affordability over elaborate preparation, although if there was ever an opportunity to make an entrée the table's centerpiece, 1970s home chefs were all over it. Despite the jump in prices, households were still able to create decadent meals, often with the help of the canned aisle and the freezer. Some of these recipes were incredibly lavish and rich, while others had a heavier European influence that added an elegant flair. The '70s were full of unique flavor combinations, some that stuck around and others that thankfully poofed into oblivion, but they're all remembered one way or another. These dishes were some of the most adored dinners of the 1970s.

Fondue is up there with disco as being synonymous with the '70s. During that decade, ads featuring the ooey-gooey dinner were everywhere, and always with groups of friends laughing while dipping their crusty bread into the steaming pot of melted cheese. Part of its appeal was the interactive aspect. It's a meal plus an activity, a two-for-one dinner party.

Cheese for dinner was all the rage in the '70s, but the cheesy dish had already been a menu staple in Switzerland for generations. When it got picked up in the States, it was a dinner party sensation. Cubes of bread, fruit, veggies, potatoes, and even meatballs could be dipped into the wine-spiked cheese sauce. The concept was indulgent but casual, elegant but easy. Everyone had a fondue pot in their mustard yellow and avocado green kitchens, and using it was a guaranteed way to make dinner feel like a celebration.

Quiche Lorraine was a sign of sophistication in the '70s, served at all the finest afternoon soirees. When Julia Child popularized French home cooking in America, housewives went wild over her elegant presentations and clear instructions. Child featured a quiche Lorraine recipe in her legendary cookbook, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," which helped establish the hearty quiche in the U.S. 

Named after a northeastern region of France, quiche Lorraine was adapted from the traditional Alsatian version. It blends the rustic flavors of German cuisine with France's love of butter and features eggs, bacon, and cream. There are variations, but Felicity Cloake of National Geographic declared that "purists in Lorraine insist a real quiche is only ever filled with three things: bacon, eggs and crème fraîche." Quiche, an egg custard in a buttery pastry shell, has ancient European roots, but America adapted the French's creamier version, with some added cheese, of course. Quiche Lorraine had its moment as a sophisticated dinner option, often served with a simple salad.

Tuna casserole, or tuna wiggle as we called it in my house, was one of those dishes that could include any ingredients as long as it started with a can of tuna and egg noodles. It was one of the quickest dinners tired parents could throw together and hardly cost a dollar per serving. The versatility went beyond added ingredients, which were commonly peas, carrots, and heavy cream.

The '70s versions were often bound with none other than Campbell's cream-of-whatever soup. Two or three cans of tuna, a pound of egg noodles, and a creamy Campbell's soup were the core ingredients, making this a dreamy dinner for a sleep-deprived household. Tuna-based casseroles and other hot dishes were weeknight standards, often topped with crushed potato chips or breadcrumbs.

There aren't many recipes on this list that remain as popular today, but meatloaf is tried and true. It was popular then, and it's popular now. It's another extremely affordable recipe with room for creativity. It was (and is) a great way to use up a variety of ground meats, also stretching out proteins with milk-soaked bread or breadcrumbs. The slow-roasted loaf was topped with a ketchup glaze, which feels as American as it gets.

Ketchup-doused meatloaf was a comforting family dinner, often served with mashed potatoes and green beans. It could be made with whatever was in the fridge and molded into the classic loaf shape before being baked to perfection. The outside would crisp up slightly, locking moisture inside. It wasn't fancy, but it didn't need to be. Meatloaf was reliable, filling, and the ultimate last-minute meal.

Liver and onions is kind of a love-it-or-hate-it type of dish, and many baby boomer Midwesterners either crave it or shudder at its sight. When times were tough, folks were quick to grab the cheapest options at the butcher, which included offal, feet, brains, and livers. To help break down the iron-forward flavor of the organ meat, it was often sautéed with onions and a thick gravy.

Liver's flavor is so distinct that it's hard to prepare it any other way, so as expected, folks got sick of the same dish over and over again. When times were tough, it was important to utilize every bit of the animal — everything the butcher had to offer. Liver and onions may not have been glamorous, but it was nutritious, filling, and inexpensive. It lingered on dinner tables throughout the decade, a dish you either remember with fondness or avoid like the plague.

Beef stroganoff, thin beef strips in a creamy mushroom sauce over egg noodles, is a hybrid French-Russian recipe that arrived in America at just the right time. After World War II, soldiers came home with recipes from all over the world, and beef stroganoff was a favorite. It was another egg noodle-based dish but with a creamy sour cream sauce that was true to Russian cuisine. The Americanized version utilized cheaper cuts of meat, and the tangy sauce softened tougher pieces.

Canned soup and seasoning packets saved the day yet again. They were often added to pots of cheaper cuts of meat to help soften and flavor an otherwise bland stew. The dish felt fancy but was still manageable for home cooks. It brought a little international flair to the dinner table without requiring a passport or more than 30 minutes to prepare.

Aspic has almost entirely disappeared from American cuisine, and yet everyone knows about this bizarre 1970s food trend. It's essentially savory Jell-O, but rather than having one jiggly consistency, it would hold bits of preserved foods like a fossil. The gelatin was typically flavored with tomato or beef, often molded in a Bundt pan for some unknown reason, and served with rich, buttery crackers or rye bread.

Visually, it's pretty off-putting, but folks in the '70s disagreed. They went gaga over the meat Jell-O. With fillings from peas to hard-boiled eggs, aspic was just as much about the presentation as it was the flavor. It almost looks like food of the future, something you'd find in a spaceship vending machine, preserved for centuries.

It was just a simple pasta dish but always made with macaroni, preferably extra soft. It's a one-pot recipe, which is always a quick fan favorite. Adapted from Hungarian goulash, chop suey — a popular dish found on Americanized Chinese menus — took on new life in the Northeast. Like many of these classic, family-friendly 1970s recipes, they left room to make it their own. Different families likely had their own take on the macaroni dish, adding peppers, carrots, or even cheese.

This basic pasta dish has a few identities. In the Midwest, they give more credit to its inspiration, calling it American goulash, but in Ohio, it's baked into a casserole called a Johnny Marzetti casserole. The Northeast named the dish after a Chinese stir-fry dish (chop suey), but there's really no correlation, unless you want to call elbow macaroni in a tomato sauce a stir-fry.

No one else can take credit for this messy, loose meat sandwich — Sloppy Joes are all-American. The sandwich's origins are all over the place. Some claim ownership in Southern Florida, where the Sloppy Joe bar still stands, while Midwesterners ignore the name and claim loose meat sandwiches as their own. Regardless of their true creator, Sloppy Joes became a 1970s favorite. Two of a kind.

The Mary-Kate and Ashley movie "Two of a Kind" solidified Sloppy Joes as a summer camp favorite. Manwich, a canned mix for the sandwich, helped popularize the sloppy sandwich. It has a signature sweetness that's not for everyone. Some recipes called for as many as several tablespoons of sugar, making it more of a sweet-and-savory combo. Served on a soft bun and often eaten with both hands and a napkin tucked into your shirt, this meal was as messy as it was satisfying.

Ground beef was ideal for hearty pasta sauces like bolognese, meatballs, and obviously a great choice for burgers, but that rotation of ground beef recipes got pretty tired in the '70s. Salisbury steak was created nearly a century before this era by Dr. J.H. Salisbury, an Atkins-diet pusher who advocated for its low-carb load, but it landed in America with style. The reintroduction of Salisbury steak shattered the routine, introducing a new easy dinner option, but just because it has steak in the name, don't expect a filet. 

Salisbury steak is simply a meatloaf patty, or more of an elevated hamburger. Made with Dijon mustard, Worcestershire sauce, onions, mushrooms, and beef stock, this comforting dish was a classic TV dinner staple.

During this era, households were desperately seeking shelf-stable foods and affordable recipes to feed their whole family, so anything in a can landed in the shopping cart, including canned tuna. There are so many things you can do with a can of tuna, but creamed tuna was everyone's favorite in the '70s. This dish can easily go one of two ways: It can be served over crostini for a sophisticated vibe, or it can be piled high on a piece of Wonder Bread or biscuits.

It's almost like a béchamel sauce with a hint of tuna. Canned tuna, flour, butter, and milk are all it took to whip up creamed tuna, making it accessible to anyone, even those with the most bare-bones pantry. Today, this is seen as much more of an elegant preparation, served with fresh dill and aioli, but in the '70s, it was more likely seated next to mashed potatoes and microwave-steamed frozen peas.

Making chicken Kiev took some serious effort when cooked from scratch, but this was well worth it to impress dinner guests with this theatrical presentation. Chicken breasts are pounded thin and then wrapped around an entire stick of herbed garlic butter, creating a dish that was as much about the visual experience as the flavor. The butter-wrapped chicken is then breaded and fried golden or oven-baked with cold butter that melts just enough as the chicken sizzles in the pan.

When slicing into the chicken Kiev, the butter oozes out onto the plate in a dramatic display, and fancy restaurants would even provide table-side cutting to present the volcanic eruption of butter. The name suggests Ukrainian origins, but the name alone might be the most Eastern European thing about this dish. Although it takes inspiration from European cooking techniques, it evolved into something distinctly American.

Here's another breaded chicken cutlet, this time with a cheesy center. They're prepared the same way as chicken Kiev, pan fried or deep fried, but stuffed with ham and Swiss cheese. As the name, which translates to "blue ribbon," suggests, this recipe is common in France. The name is said to reference the ribbons worn by talented chefs, inspired by the famous Parisian culinary school, Le Cordon Bleu, which was founded back in 1895.

Chicken cordon bleu is another recipe that Julia Child helped bring to the States with her 1961 cookbook, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." Popularity for this dish spread throughout the '60s as a star of Continental cuisine, but the fad didn't die once the new decade arrived. Home chefs were eager to try this so-called fancy chicken tender at home, but it was often reserved for nights out or premade frozen options.

Aside from a few frozen brands like Stouffer's, creamed chipped beef is a dish of the past. But in the '70s, it was on half of America's dinner tables. Considered a "military meal," creamed chipped beef was a budget-friendly, filling dinner option. The creamy beef toast was known among soldiers as "SOS," aka s*** on a shingle, which didn't seem to yuck their yum, so to speak. Originating in mess halls, this dish made its way to the States and stayed put.

By the 1970s, it was a common quick-fix meal, especially in homes that prioritized frugality and speed. Rather than using fresh or even frozen beef, the recipe would call for dried beef, which was often jarred. The beef would be rehydrated in a creamy, béchamel-style white sauce and ladled over toast or biscuits.

The only thing that can make a bowl of smoky baked beans better are slices of hot dog, and families in the 1970s agreed. This is still an extremely popular dish, especially in New England, where baked beans are ingrained in the history and culture of the region. Made with two of the most beloved pantry staples, hot dogs and a can of beans, this dish became America's favorite comfort food for good reason. 

A stark change from the more posh recipes of the '70s, this hearty meal was comforting and is forever tied to nostalgia, representing the kind of unpretentious food that brought families together. Whether it was heated over a campfire or served at the dinner table, franks and beans, or beanie weenies as they were often called, were easy to make and universally adored by both kids and adults.

Who is this infamous Diane, and what is so special about her steak? Well, for starters, it's flambéed. First emerging in 1930s London, steak Diane was once the fanciest dish on the menu, and in the '70s, it had a boom in America. The dish is incredibly simple, just a pan-fried steak with a rich, peppery pan sauce livened with cognac and mushrooms, but it wowed diners so much it became a culinary sensation. It was often served table-side at five-star establishments and finished in the pan with a blast of fire. 

Flambéing, tossing alcohol into a steaming pan, wasn't a new technique. It originated decades prior, allegedly in Monte Carlo, but steak Diane certainly advertised the elite cooking method. To top it off, steak Diane was typically prepared with the finest, most tender cut of steak: filet mignon. You can use anything from New York strip to flank steak when preparing steak Diane, but you can't beat a filet mignon. Steak Diane was swanky, it was cool, and it was the best way to show off your culinary prowess to your dinner date.

Chicken cacciatore is an Italian-American favorite, featuring chicken simmered in tomato sauce with peppers and onions. It had been around for decades but resurfaced in the '70s and became one of the most popular dishes around. Cacciatore was a term tossed onto many recipes around this time, and it was typically a reference to that Italian flavor profile, including onions, peppers, mushrooms, and tomatoes, which created a robust, satisfying sauce.

The name cacciatore means "hunter" in Italian, suggesting a rustic, country-style preparation that appealed to American sensibilities about hearty, honest cooking. Easy to make in one pot and bursting with flavor, it fit right in with the saucy, simmered meals that defined the decade. 

Back in 5,000 B.C., pork chops were a favored dinner, and apples were a currency, but it would take thousands of years for anyone to combine the two. In Ancient Rome, pork shoulder and apples were served in flavorful stews. With some seasoning adjustments and the obvious sauce-ifying of the apples, the meat and fruit combination stayed relevant. The pair represented the perfect marriage of sweet and savory that was all the rage in the '70s — think honey-baked ham and glazed cocktail meatballs.

As Peter of "The Brady Bunch" said in his best Humphrey Bogart impression, "Pork chops and applesauce. Ain't that swell." That single quote helped lock this dish into pop culture history. Pork chops and applesauce were simple, but that perfect balance of salty and sweet made it memorable. The simplicity of the dish was part of its appeal — it didn't require exotic ingredients or complex preparation, just good quality pork chops and homemade or store-bought applesauce.

Veal Parmesan is an Italian-American favorite that was extra special during the '70s. Chicken and pork were the usual proteins in rotation, but veal was seen as a specialty because it wasn't something American households commonly had stocked in the freezer. Breaded, fried, and smothered in marinara and mozzarella, veal Parmesan always impressed. It might have been ordered more often than home-cooked, but its presence on the menu (and at the occasional ambitious dinner party) made it a standout in the decade's dinner lineup.

This dish represented the aspirational cooking of the 1970s, when families were willing to spend a little more for special ingredients that would elevate their dining experience. The preparation required some skill; properly pounding the veal thin, breading it carefully, and timing the cooking so the cheese melted perfectly. Veal Parmesan embodied the union of Italian-American cuisine, representing the kind of indulgent, celebration-worthy meal that made the 1970s dinner table a place where families could enjoy the finer things in life.