When it comes to the evolution of our current restaurant universe, there are plenty of things for which we can credit Alice Waters and Chez Panisse. But when it comes to original dishes, there are not many we can clearly point to as having been invented there — especially because Waters and the various chefs who have come through her kitchen tend mostly to pay homage to the simple, ingredient-driven cuisines of France and Italy. One dish that has remained the cornerstone of the upstairs Cafe menu since it opened in the early 1980s, however, is Waters’ own lunchtime creation — she primarily worked the kitchen at lunch — the baked goat cheese salad. The dish includes two or three breaded rounds of softened goat cheese (Waters was an early customer of Laura Chenel) that are served atop well dressed baby lettuces with garlic toasts. It’s an extremely simple dish that the New York Times’ Amanda Hesser nonetheless declares an iconic dish of the decade, and it continues to be very widely imitated.

Two rival tiki bar pioneers each claim to have invented the Mai Tai, but the popular legend is that this daiquiri variation was created by Victor Bergeron at the original Trader Vic’s in Oakland, circa 1944. Here, that’s substituted for the Emeryville location, as Oakland’s Trader Vic’s is no longer. The Mai Tai is a combination of two different rums, lime juice, orange curacao, and orgeat — and the man with the competing claim of inventing the drink, Los Angeles’s Don the Beachcomber, made his version with grapefruit juice and lime juice, falernum, and a few drops of Herbsaint. As tiki drinks grew in popularity, the Mai Tai morphed into a syrupy concoction sold in Chinese restaurants. But to taste something like Bergeron’s original, you’ll want to do so at a reputable, craft-focused tiki bar where they make their own orgeat. Smuggler’s Cove will do nicely.

There’s no question that rocky road ice cream — a classic chocolate flavor with nuts and marshmallows — was invented in Oakland. There’s also no question that the name is a joke about the Great Depression, the crunchy flavor intended as a sweet antidote to tough times. The only question is who invented it first: 120-year-old, independently-owned Oakland soda fountain Fentons Creamery, or equally ancient Dreyer’s, now owned by Nestle but still headquartered in Oakland. According to the Dreyer’s side of the story, ice cream maker William Dreyer invented the flavor after he teamed up with candy maker Joseph Edy to open Edy’s Grand Ice Cream in 1928 — so-named for its home on Oakland’s Grand Avenue. (Side story: The Edy’s name was later changed to Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream by William Dreyer, Jr, though the Dreyer’s company still uses the name Edy’s in Eastern markets to differentiate Dreyer’s from competitor Breyers ice cream). Joseph Edy, a candy maker, had already combined chocolate, nuts, and marshmallows in candy bar form, and William Breyer purportedly adapted the combination to ice cream, cutting the only marshmallows available at the time, which were large, with his wife’s sewing scissors. Fentons story is essentially the same, asserting that Dreyer and Edy stole the name and idea from Fentons candy maker George Farren. Hold on: Why fight over the innovation of adding a few ingredients to ice cream? Sure, in today’s Ben and Jerry’s world, rocky road might not seem to stand out, but at the time, it was a big step forward, since only flavors like strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate were commonly available. — Caleb Pershan

Famed San Francisco barman Duncan Nicol invented Pisco Punch at the Bank Exchange Saloon, on the Montgomery Block where the TransAmerica Pyramid now stands, back in the 1890s. Pisco, you see, was commonly found next other American spirits in San Francisco bars in the 19th century thanks to a busy trade route with South America, and the grape-based Peruvian brandy became quite popular here. Nicol used it to create his signature punch, mixing it with pineapple juice, lime juice, sugar, and gum syrup. As one writer at the time described it, “It tastes like lemonade but comes back with the kick of a roped steer.” Get your kicks with a version at pisco bar Destino or, for a classic SF feel, Comstock Saloon.

The origins of Chop Suey as a phenomenon in Chinese-American cuisine can very probably be traced to San Francisco’s Chinatown and the need to create inexpensive food that would appeal to Western palates during the Gold Rush and subsequent years. Though there’s some debate about where it comes from the main evidence is this: Most Chinese immigration came through San Francisco, and San Francisco introduced Americans to Chinese food twice, once in the Gold Rush era, and again to regional and in particular Mandarin and Imperial Chinese cuisine with Cecilia Chiang’s The Mandarin restaurant in the 1960s. A popular myth has it that a Chinatown chef was trying to serve some drunken miners one night in the 1860s, and threw together leftovers in a wok including vegetables, meat, and eggs — and this jives with another theory connected to a 19th century dish from Taishan called tsap seui (“miscellaneous leftovers”). Find a take at Chinatown classic Sam Wo’s under the “vegetables” section.

A Gold Rush-era invention that is undoubtedly rooted in Northern California, the Hangtown Fry has its supposed origins in Placerville, which was then called Hangtown, up in Gold Country. One legend has it that a man waiting to be executed requested an “oyster omelette” as his last meal, and knowing that the oysters would have to be bought by the coast a hundred miles away, thereby delayed his execution. The original omelette, which is really a scramble or frittata, was made with fried oysters and bacon, and the version you’ll find at Tadich Grill, where the dish has been served since the place opened in 1850, has mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes in it as well.

This unusual dish of braised and chilled celery dressed in anchovies and tarragon was the invention of chef Victor Hirtzler of the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco around 1910. It first appeared in a 1914 cookbook titled A Bohemian Guide to San Francisco Restaurants by Clarence Edwords, and soon gained national popularity. It seems sort of old-fashioned and odd now (celery braised in chicken broth?), but various local chefs have tried to contemporize it for modern audiences. An alternate version featuring bay shrimp and cherry tomatoes along with anchovy fillets and a vinaigrette can still be had at Sam’s Grill in the FiDi.

A dish called Crab Leg à Louis appears on a 1908 menu at the classic high-end SF spot The Old Poodle Dog, and in 1910, St. Francis hotel chef Victor Hirtzler had a version on his menu as well. By 1914, the recipe for this mayonnaise-y crab salad would make an appearance in the cookbook A Bohemian Guide to San Francisco Restaurants by Clarence Edwords, the same one that first featured Celery Victor. Around town you’ll still find plenty of versions of this simple, cold shellfish dish made with shrimp, as well as crab, but the old-school versions are at the OG spots like Tadich Grill and Swan Oyster Depot.

Though a couple of Los Angeles bakers have tried to claim credit for creating the fortune cookie, food historians agree that the most reliable origin story comes from San Francisco. The reason is this: A very similar looking cookie existed in Japan dating back to the 19th century, though it was a savory variety flavored with miso, and there is also a tradition in Japan called omikuji in which random fortunes are written on slips of paper. Japanese immigrant Makoto Hagiwara, who opened San Francisco’s Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park in 1894, is said to have ordered the sweet, folded cookies from San Francisco confectioner Benkyodo (which is still open in Japantown) in 1918, so they could be served at the tea garden. The move into Chinese restaurants came during World War II, when most of SF’s Japanese-Americans were put in internment camps. The Smithsonian says that Chinese businessmen then took the opportunity to copy the recipe and market the cookies to Chinese restaurants, and the rest is history. You’ll find them almost anywhere in Chinatown, but look out for the small, delicious-smelling Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory.

Food historians will argue that the burrito has its origins in Mexico and in the American southwest before it made its way to San Francisco’s Mission district. But a pair of Mission taquerias each claims to have made the first Mission-style burrito (using a large flour tortilla and stuffing it with rice and beans as well as meat), Taqueria La Cumbre and El Faro Taqueria. La Cumbre says they invented the Mission burrito in 1969, while El Faro says that its owner created the first burritos of this kind, using two six-inch tortillas, for a group of firefighters in 1961. Still others claim that this portable, all-in-one meal was the invention of cooks who served Chicano farm workers, and it was one or more of these cooks who introduced the Mission burrito to city taquerias.

The Bay Area’s iconic chocolate-dipped ice cream cookie sandwich was born at San Francisco’s answer to Coney Island, Playland-by-the-Beach. There, at a no-name refreshment stand, George Whitney was inspired in 1928 to sandwich a scoop of ice cream between two oatmeal cookies, and cover the whole thing in dark chocolate. The treat became an instant hit, and eventually the ice cream stand would get a sign above it that said “This is IT,” which would ultimately lead to the sandwich’s odd name. It wasn’t until the 1970s, after the demolition of Playland, that the name and recipe were sold to its current owners, the Shamieh family, who opened the company’s existing production facility south of the city in Burlingame. Demand would only grow as IT’S-ITs showed up in stores far from Ocean Beach, and now the factory produces and packs 100,000 sandwiches a day, in eight different flavors.