From a farmstand in Vermont to the shores of 30A, chefs and cooks share the flavors, traditions, and family moments that make the Fourth unforgettable.
"Eat as much as you pick." That's what my Aunt Becky said every summer when we went strawberry picking at Nye's Berryland. Juice running down our faces, we'd haul our flats to the little wooden stand to be weighed, then go straight to work: washing, hulling, and, within the hour, eating strawberry shortcake.
Aunt Becky made batches of biscuit dough, dense but soft, layered with butter and ready for macerated strawberries and a cloud of homemade whipped cream. That biscuit recipe has made the rounds. Now summer isn't summer without it, and the Fourth of July means fireworks over the water and shortcakes cooling on the counter.
Food memory rarely arrives as a recipe. It arrives as a smell, a sound, a specific patch of afternoon light.
The Fourth of July is ice cream dripping down a fresh waffle cone. It's burgers sizzling on a grill, smoke curling into the air. It's a poolside margarita, salty and ice-cold. It tastes like the place. Here are a few of those flavors, from coasts near and far.
Chef Juan Chipoco
Founder & Chef, CVI.CHE 105 · Miami, Florida
Some of Juan Chipoco's most vivid summer memories begin the same way: surrounded by family in Peru, tasting fresh seafood straight from the Pacific, with his grandmother nearby. "The best part is sharing moments, laughing, and enjoying life," he said. "Food has always had this huge power to bring people together."
That lesson shapes everything at CVI.CHE 105 in Miami, where summer after summer people from different backgrounds find themselves sharing a bowl of ceviche. It's why he considers it the ideal Fourth of July dish. "It's fresh, vibrant, chilled, and made for sharing. In Miami, July is hot, and people want something light and flavorful that feels like a celebration."
Chef Chipoco's Chan Chan
Built around bright passion fruit, lime, and the subtle heat of ají limo pepper.
- Scant 1 fl oz passion fruit pulp
- 1¾ fl oz silver tequila
- ½ fl oz ají limo agave
- ¼ fl oz simple syrup
- ¾ fl oz lime juice
Ají limo agave: mix 2 level tablespoons chopped ají limo with 16 fl oz agave nectar and 10 fl oz boiling water. Steep 10 minutes, then strain.
To build: mix the passion fruit pulp, tequila, ají limo agave, and simple syrup. Add with the lime juice to a shaker with ice, shake well, and strain over fresh ice. Garnish with a togarashi rim and a dehydrated lime wheel.
Chef Susan Burdian
Chef de Cuisine, Society Table at The Don CeSar · St. Pete Beach, Florida
When asked about the Fourth, Chef Burdian remembered her brother Steve, born on the holiday. His career in the Coast Guard gave the family access to something rare: the Hillsboro Inlet Lighthouse grounds near Pompano Beach, where they gathered to mark every milestone. Weddings, birthdays, reunions, and eventually Steve's retirement.
During one weeklong reunion at the lighthouse, family members returned from a morning fishing trip with a 25-pound cobia. Burdian immediately got to work frying garlic, tons of it. "By 2 p.m., my family was ready and waiting at the table, teased by the smells of garlic, citrus, and ocean," she said. They moved the cobia onto beds of garlic rice and topped everything with a mango salad studded with briny olives. Wine and cold beers made the rounds, and every last bite disappeared.
Chef Shawn Kjosa
Executive Chef, Black Drum Restaurant · Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
"Every Fourth of July, I think I'll remember the fireworks. But what always comes back first is the smell. Salt air, charcoal, and shrimp hitting a hot grate."
Kjosa grew up spending summers around Myrtle Beach, and his Fourth was always about timing: getting the grill hot before the afternoon storm rolled in, keeping the cooler buried in ice, and feeding people constantly so no one wandered off hungry. One year, a last-minute decision to grill right at the beach access rather than heading home gave him one of his most enduring memories of the holiday.
Chef Oscar Arencibia
Owner & Chef, Santiago's · Burlington, Vermont
Arencibia grew up Cuban-American in New Jersey, and the Fourth meant one thing: sitting on his uncle's shoulders to watch fireworks bloom over the Manhattan skyline. The food was an afterthought. The sky was everything.
Years later, as a working chef, he found his own ritual: barbecue ribs from scratch, with his own dry rub and sauce, refined summer after summer. He brought that tradition onto the menu at Santiago's in Burlington as Guava BBQ Ribs with congrí and house slaw, a dish that bridges a New Jersey childhood with a kitchen looking out over Lake Champlain. The holiday that was once all skyline has become all table.
Chef Arencibia's Guava BBQ Ribs
Dry rub: combine equal parts cumin, oregano, and salt. Add half as much onion powder, garlic powder, and ground black pepper. Finish with one-quarter as much brown sugar and mix well.
Sauce: 3 tbsp minced garlic · 1 cup minced onion · 2 cups ketchup · ½ cup molasses · 1 cup guava paste · ½ cup guava juice · ¼ cup apple cider vinegar · 1 cup prepared mustard · 1 tbsp lime juice · 1 tsp crushed red pepper · salt and pepper to taste.
In a saucepan, heat the onion and garlic over medium until translucent. Add the remaining ingredients one at a time, stirring to incorporate. Reduce heat to low and simmer 5 to 10 minutes. Adjust seasoning.
Ribs: season generously with rub. Cover and bake at 250°F for 2½ to 3 hours, until tender and pulling back from the bone, 195°F to 203°F internally. Rest briefly, then finish on a hot grill, turning and basting with sauce until caramelized.
Chef David Vilchez
Regional Chef, Del Mar · West Palm Beach, Fort Lauderdale, Naples and Columbus
For Vilchez, summer in Los Angeles meant beach days, family, and his grandmother's shrimp ceviche: plump shrimp, creamy avocado, onions, tomatoes, chiles, cilantro, and lime, served light and cold alongside carne asada tacos.
"I have fond memories of eating ceviche on summer days," he said. "It's an iconic appetizer in coastal cultures around the world." He has since added a ceviche to the Mediterranean menu at Del Mar. Not his grandmother's recipe exactly, but close enough that each bite carries him back.
Del Mar Ceviche
Light, bright, and zero fuss. Dice ½ pound fresh snapper into small pieces. Add freshly squeezed lime juice, just enough to cover the fish, and 2 tsp salt. Mix in a bowl and let sit 10 minutes. Drain and discard the liquid. Keep chilled.
Adapted from "The Summer Table" by Carrie Honaker in Beach Happy Magazine, Summer 2026, Issue 25. Photography courtesy of the featured restaurants, The Don CeSar, Cameron Mitchell Restaurants, and Visit South Walton. Recipes reproduced as published; adjust seasoning to taste. Read Saltwater Inheritance from the same issue.
