14 Most Iconic Southern BBQ Sides

There are many wonderful things from the Southern United States (the Appalachian mountains, Florida oranges, OutKast) but barbecue is probably the region's greatest cultural export. It's an excuse to get outside on a nice day, cook some food over fire, and see friends and family. The smell of smoking meat fills the air, making mouths water long before the brisket gets its proper bark or the ribs start falling off the bone — better have some appetizers and side dishes available.

But that's the thing. Whether you're throwing a barbecue (where meat is slow-smoked for hours) or a cookout (where meat is grilled on a flame), you're going to be eating some tasty foods. While it's easy to get excited over the main course, the event needs more than meat. Can't have a complete plate without at least one starch and vegetable, right? Here are some of the most iconic Southern barbecue side dishes.

Baked mac and cheese might have one of the most American stories out there. The dish was brought to the U.S. from France by James Hemings, an enslaved man who worked for Thomas Jefferson. The president had taken Hemings on his travels to France so that he could learn French cooking techniques. When Hemings brought the dish back to Virginia, it was a hit. In those days, macaroni and cheese was made in a Dutch oven over a fire. It was a weekend and/or celebratory food for Black people in the Antebellum South.

In the 20th century, Americans' love of quick, convenient foods helped popularize boxed mac and cheese. Now, we love a good boxed mac and cheese. If you're going to an event, though? Maybe leave the boxed stuff at home and make baked mac and cheese. Like many things in the South, there are differences along racial and class lines about how this dish is consumed, but everyone can agree that it belongs at the barbecue.

Slow-cooked in a vinegary broth with smoked meat (usually turkey necks or ham hocks), greens are an essential vegetable at any function. Don't forget to drink down the "potlikker" – the delectable broth that the greens are cooked in. At least soak your cornbread in it. Greens can be prepared with a number of leafy veggies: collard, kale, mustard, or turnip are the traditional options. One of the best things about greens, whether you cook them in a pot on the stovetop or in a slow cooker, is that cooking them makes your whole house smell good for hours. No wonder they're the perfect barbecue side; they're practically the vegetable version of pork shoulder.

In the Antebellum South, enslaved Africans were not allowed to grow many vegetables for themselves, but they were allowed to grow collard greens. The cultural love for this dish goes back centuries. Put this on your plate, and again — dip your cornbread in the "potlikker."

An absolutely necessary tongue cooler when eating smoked and grilled meat. There's a reason you see a ramekin of coleslaw tucked into your bag every time you get barbecue takeout. Coleslaw has many variations. Some Southerners like to use buttermilk in their slaw. Lexington red slaw features ketchup. In 2024, a spicy variation called Hot Slaw was named the first official state food of Tennessee. The general expectation for the food as a barbecue side, though, is that there will at least be cabbage, carrots, and mayo. 

The origin of coleslaw, much like cooking meat over fire, goes way back to ancient times. The Romans would enjoy a similar cabbage dish with vinegar, spices, and eggs. That's not too far off from what we in the U.S. like today. There's something primal about barbecue, something about practicing this ancient cooking method that connects us to those who came before. Turns out, coleslaw does the same.

Another side dish that tells a story about the U.S. Baked beans originated with Indigenous Americans, who would prepare beans overnight in clay pots with animal fat and maple syrup. European settlers picked up these basic principles, and the dish caught on. It's not hard to see why: beans are rich in protein and fiber, and so plentiful that they are sometimes referred to as "the poor man's meat." For many Indigenous Americans, beans were one-third of a trinity of staple foods, along with corn and squash. For contemporary Southerners, baked beans are an essential barbecue item.

Today, different variations of baked beans are enjoyed around the globe. Southern-style baked beans tend to have more of a brown sugar flavor, with some combination of ketchup, mustard, barbecue sauce, and Worcestershire sauce going into the mix. Texas baked beans, on the other hand, often have green chiles, jalapeños, and other spices. However you eat your baked beans, we can all agree that no plate of pulled pork is complete without them. If you're pressed for time, try this shortcut baked beans recipe. 

A big, big question for Southerners is: "Who's making the potato salad?" Sometimes, being tasked with preparing this dish is almost a rite of passage. Perfecting the blend of mustard, relish, mayo, and whatever else you want to add is an art. Getting the right potato thickness and softness is an art. Since both art and the taste of food are subjective, it can sometimes be a real trial to get the dish right. That said, it is a necessity, please don't throw an event without potato salad. Try one of Daily Meal's potato salad recipes, if you dare. 

According to food history, German immigrants brought potato salad to the South in the 1860s. As with many dishes, Black cooks learned the basics of potato salad and then made it their own. That doesn't quite tell the whole tale, though. These German immigrants enjoyed good relations with their African-American neighbors, particularly in the culinary hotbed of Charleston, South Carolina. This friendship declined a bit in the 1870s, as more Germans aligned themselves with anti-Reconstruction white Southerners. The origins of potato salad tell a very Southern story.

The first print recipe for deviled eggs appeared in an Alabama newspaper in the late 19th century. The first use of the word "deviled" to describe a heavily seasoned food goes all the way back to 1786. While deviled eggs are a popular cookout side, they're also sometimes referred to as "funeral food," thanks to their propensity to show up at church functions. Whatever the occasion and whatever their name, we can promise these eggy treats taste heavenly. 

Deviled eggs are a classic for a reason. The blend of mayo, relish, mustard, and paprika in a perfectly boiled egg? The little twinge of cold on your tongue if you eat one right after it's pulled out of the fridge or cooler? There's nothing like it. If deviled eggs are served as an appetizer, it's genuinely hard to stop yourself from eating so much that you have no appetite for the rest of the meal. Save stomach space, though, because chasing a bite of sauce-covered pulled pork with a cold deviled egg is a really great eating experience. 

Maybe hushpuppies are more commonly found at fish fries — yes, another kind of communal outdoor cooking event — but there's never a bad time for a hushpuppy. Would you like a golden brown ball of sweet and savory fried cornmeal, right this very moment? Probably. Hushpuppies are great. Dip them in ketchup, tartar sauce, aioli, or hot sauce, you can't go wrong. 

A couple of legends surround this Carolina treat's origin story. One story is that when fishers would cook their catch of the day, their dogs would get all riled up, so a quick-fried ball of cornmeal was used to get the puppies to, shall we say, be silent. A variation on that story substitutes Confederate soldiers for fishers. The most likely story is that Romeo Govan, a man born into slavery but who lived to see the end of the Civil War, would make the dish as a side when hosting fish fries. After Govan's death in 1915, word spread about hushpuppies. By the end of the 20th century, the side was ubiquitous at fish fries and barbecues.

Hey, it's more than something Sylvester J. Pussycat says. This dish is one of the better vegetable medleys out there. Succotash actually originated with the Narragansett people, who lived around present day Rhode Island. Their version included corn, beans, and a variable third side: summer squash in warm seasons, pumpkin during colder times. Today, succotash generally features lima beans, corn, tomatoes, and okra — all crops that grow prominently in the South. This dish can be made anywhere, any time, if you use frozen or canned veggies. Trust us, though, when we say that eating succotash made with fresh, in-season ingredients is a one-of-a-kind experience. 

If you want to mix things up a bit, try making a grilled corn and edamame succotash. That version also calls for Napa cabbage and sweet onion, which shows how versatile the dish is. Honestly, if you've got corn and beans, you've got the basics for succotash. Tomatoes are great when they're fresh, and aromatics like onions or fresh herbs are always welcome. 

Honestly, if you get an invite to a barbecue and just bring a watermelon? There's nothing to forgive. Watermelon is refreshing and delicious, especially on a hot summer day in the South. If you're looking to switch it up, though? Why not try watermelon cucumber feta salad, one of the easiest side dishes to whip up? You have to cut the watermelon into cubes anyway, right? Go ahead and add some chunks of cucumber, feta cheese, and maybe a nice balsamic. This dish adds a little complexity to the classic summer fruit, and it's delightful. 

Watermelon is originally from Africa, but sources have the fruit showing up in China in the 10th century and Europe in the 13th century. Indigenous Americans began growing watermelons as far back as 1664, if not earlier. It not only grows well in hot climates, but it is perhaps best consumed on a back porch on a warm summer day. No wonder it's a staple at cookouts. A few extra ingredients turn the humble watermelon into a salad that everyone at the gathering will love.

The two American continents are absolutely lush with gorgeous plant life and native crops, but none have become as essential to everyday diets as corn. Indigenous Americans were the first to turn corn into bread, making a bread that doesn't require yeast. Southern cooks were the ones who introduced cast iron skillets to the party. Now, it's not a party if there's no cornbread. Watching a pat of butter melt into a hot slice of cornbread, the yellow eventually fading into a clear sheen on the bread? Few things are better in life, truly. 

Cooking cornbread in a skillet results in an overload of sensory experiences. First, pour some fat (lard or bacon grease, ideally) into a hot skillet. Then pour the batter and listen to the sizzle. The end result of using your cast iron gives the bottom and sides of the bread a beautiful, deep brown crust. It's almost like a shelf for the soft, buttery bite of bread. That crispy, sturdy crust is a necessary addition to a barbecue plate — something's gotta sop up all that sauce, potlikker, and leftover bits of pimento cheese.

Sympathy and a thousand "bless your heart" well-wishes to anyone who is not from the South and therefore has not experienced pimento cheese. This combination of cheese, mayo, pimentos, and any other ingredients to up the deliciousness is a real treat. Make your mac and cheese with it, make cornbread with it, make green bean casserole with it, or simply serve it on its own. Make spicy pimento cheese or mild, it doesn't matter, just get pimento cheese to the function. If you're at an event with sandwiches of any kind — pulled pork or brisket sandwiches at a barbecue, or burgers at a cookout — add pimento cheese to any sandwich you make. The creaminess and kick from the spread really compliments the savory and charred elements of the meat.

Pimento cheese is sometimes called the "caviar of the South." Given both the saltiness and delectability of this spread, it's easy to see why. That said, the spread originated in New York, which makes it yet another example of Southern cooks improving on a recipe from elsewhere.

This delicious crop made its way to the Americas from Africa via the Atlantic Slave Trade. Turns out, the hot and humid climate of the Southern U.S. is perfect for growing okra. Hundreds of years after the seeds crossed an ocean, okra can still be found fried in crunchy batter, roasted, grilled, and even pickled at almost any barbecue across the South. You've got to have some veggies on your plate, so make sure to load up on okra. If you're lucky enough to be in Charleston or New Orleans or anywhere else they make a good gumbo, more power to you. 

The Gullah Geechee people of the coastal Lowcountry regions have long dried out okra pods. This has a couple of uses. For one, dried okra pods can be used in soups year-round, reconstituting and acting as a thickening agent in broth. For another, drying okra pods by dredging them in a cornstarch and flour mixture removes some of the sliminess, which helps the pods get crispier when they're roasted or fried.

How can you make a fruit salad better? Whipped topping and coconut, of course. Okay, we admit, this one's maybe a controversial inclusion. Ambrosia salad's popularity is waning in the 21st century, but we have to assume this wholly Southern creation will never disappear completely from the cookout. All that rich, smoked meat. Side dishes that are either fried or heavily buttered. The people demand some balance on the palate. You need a little sweetness to cut through all of that savory.

Besides, if you're in the Southern U.S., you are in a place where fresh fruit grows. Ambrosia was originally crafted to celebrate citrus fruit becoming more available in the U.S. in the 1880s. The first recipes featured a relatively spare ingredient list: orange slices, sugar, and coconut. Since the dish can be made with as many or as few ingredients as you like, why not experiment with different combinations yourself?

Dessert? Side? Who cares, your cookout needs some. Whether you've got Georgia peaches, apples, or fresh-picked berries, you can't go wrong. It's biscuit dough on top of cooked fruit, and it's a true Southern classic. Well, maybe where the biscuit dough goes and how much of it to include is a discussion rife with controversy. We're not here to take a side on the cobbler dough debate. We would just like a helping of peach cobbler after writing this paragraph, please.

The history of this dish is very Southern, too: it is likely that cobbler was invented when enslaved cooks were tinkering with European fruit desserts, making it almost a sweet mirror of macaroni and cheese. Southern icon Zora Neale Hurston sang peach cobbler's praises in her works. When a dessert gets the stamp of approval from one of the greatest writers the region has ever known, you know it's a true icon of Southern cooking.