30 Fancy Foods That Used to Be Rare—Now They’re Just a Grocery Aisle Away

Back in 1976, I tried hummus and falafel for the very first time. A Syrian friend showed me how to make hummus from scratch, and I was instantly hooked. My Yankee parents were totally skeptical at first—but before long, it became a staple in my kitchen. As for falafel? Let’s just say I never passed up a chance to eat it.

That rippling, frozen masterpiece of layered ice cream and chocolate. In the UK, it wasn’t just dessert—it was the dessert. Reserved for birthdays, Christmas, or when guests were coming over and Mum wanted to impress.

Even now, one bite takes me straight back to 90s telly and Sunday dinners.

Pineapple was pure magic when I was a kid. Once a year—just once—we’d get a fresh one tucked inside a fancy Christmas fruit basket from a well-off relative. Sure, canned pineapple existed, but the real thing? Spiky, golden, and smelling like sunshine from another planet. It felt exotic, almost mythical… and way out of reach for most of the year.

Terry’s Chocolate Orange was the official sign that Christmas had arrived. That satisfying whack to break it open? Pure ritual. One perfect sphere of zesty chocolate magic, wrapped in foil like it was a treasure—and honestly, to us, it was.

And don’t even get me started on Grey Poupon. That Dijon mustard wasn’t just a condiment—it was a lifestyle. In my mind, it belonged exclusively to people who drove Bentleys and said things like “pardon me” with a British accent.

Cashews were serious luxury back in the day. My grandma would splurge once a year—one precious pound from Fannie May for around $20 in the '70s. That was before machines, when they were still hand-stripped in India. Basically, edible gold.

Sushi used to sound so weird to me—I still remember watching The Breakfast Club and totally relating to everyone’s reaction when Claire pulled it out. Raw fish? No thanks. Fast forward 40 years, and guess what? I’m obsessed. If I had to eat one thing for the rest of my life, it’d be sushi. Funny how tastes (and times) change.

Back in the '50s and early '60s, authentic Thai food was nonexistent in places like Nashville or Atlanta—at least where we lived. Thai restaurants just weren’t a thing. Then I came back up North after college, and suddenly… Thai spots everywhere. Now? I’m completely hooked. Can’t get enough.

My grandad always said “oranges” when asked about special treats. Every Christmas, he’d get just one—and that was the gift. Simple, sweet, and cherished. 

I still remember when a Mexican restaurant opened in our town—sometime in the early ’70s, I think. It felt so exotic back then, like a whole new world of flavor had just landed on Main Street.

Mangoes were a total mystery where I grew up in the Midwest—we never saw the real thing in the ’70s. Funny enough, we called green bell peppers “mangoes” for some reason no one could explain. Still don’t know why… but that’s what they were!

I was well into my mid-20s before I even heard of pesto. Basil, garlic, pine nuts? It sounded fancy, mysterious… very not Midwestern. Now it’s a weeknight dinner staple. 

Good beer just wasn’t a thing when I was growing up in the South. You had Bud, Miller, or PBR—take your pick (or don’t). That was the entire lineup. Craft beer? Never even crossed our minds. Now? There’s a whole aisle for IPAs alone.

Fresh fruit and veggies were a rare luxury growing up in my isolated northern Canadian town. We’d get whatever was left at the bottom of the truck—bruised, tired, and ridiculously expensive. Now that I live in the south, I still catch myself marveling at the produce aisle... like, all this variety? Just sitting here? It never stops feeling a little magical.

Olive oil when I was a kid? Definitely not for cooking. It came in a tiny bottle from the pharmacy—and you used it for earaches, not salad dressing. The idea of drizzling it over pasta or dipping bread in it would've sounded downright bizarre back then!

Back in the day, La Choy and Chun King canned Chinese food were the height of exotic in our house—total culinary adventure straight from a tin. And while TV dinners weren’t exactly fancy, to us kids, they were pure novelty. Those little foil trays felt like space-age magic—like we were eating astronaut food straight out of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

I didn’t get my first taste of Indian food until grad school—and it was love at first bite. Now it’s hands-down my favorite international cuisine. Thankfully, it’s come a long way in popularity since then—these days, you can find a solid Indian spot even in smaller towns. Total win.

Blackberries used to mean scratched-up arms and berry-stained fingers—we’d pick them wild every spring for a few short weeks. That was the only way to get them. It wasn’t until the ’90s, when the USDA developed hybrid varieties, that they became a reliable crop. Now? You can grab a perfect pint at the grocery store year-round. Wild.

Back in the 1970s, tofu felt totally exotic—at least to most non-Asian households. It was this mysterious, squishy block that showed up in health food stores or the occasional hippie cookbook. Fast forward, and now it’s a weeknight dinner staple in everything from stir-fries to smoothies.

Growing up in Indiana in the ’70s, foods like sushi or pho might as well have been from another planet. They just weren’t part of the local food scene—most of us had never even heard of them. Now? You can find both in a strip mall down the street. Times have definitely changed.

Shrimp—and honestly, any kind of seafood—used to be a rare treat when I was growing up. Maybe once a year, and always at a restaurant. Now? I grab frozen shrimp by the bag and we have it once or twice a month like it’s no big deal. What used to feel fancy is now just Tuesday dinner.

Toblerone was the ultimate fancy treat when I was growing up in the '80s. You only got one if someone you knew had flown on a plane—which automatically made it exotic and special. Now? They’re stacked by the dozens at the checkout line. Still tasty, just a little less mysterious.

My mom (born in 1948) once told me she didn’t try yogurt until she was 18—and even then, it felt like something out of a health food experiment. Hummus? That was a whole other revelation. When she discovered it, you'd have thought she'd uncovered a secret treasure.

When I was about six—around 1956—McDonald’s opened in our Midwestern factory town. It was a huge deal. I went to a friend’s birthday party there, all excited… until I saw my hamburger. Mustard and pickles? Total poison to six-year-old me. I cried and refused to eat it. So much for exotic new food!

Eggs Benedict used to be the ultimate fancy breakfast—you had to hit up some upscale brunch spot to get that mammy jammy. Now? Pretty sure you can order it at IHOP next to a stack of pancakes.

I still remember when nachos blew up nationally—around ’77, after Monday Night Football hit Dallas and featured them as a bar snack. Suddenly, nachos were the thing. My mom was so into it, she brought 3x5 index cards to a friend’s house just to copy down the recipe. Total appetizer gold back then.