After 11 weeks on the other side of the Atlantic, pedalling around trying to get the measure of real American food rather than the cartoonish stuff often peddled abroad under that label, I’m finally home – and excited to get back into the kitchen. But as I look back on my travels (and wonder how I’ll fit everything I ate into just one book), I realise how diverse the modern American food scene is. Of course, I covered the classics – New England clam chowder (Nigel Slater’s recipe looks like the real deal), Louisiana po’ boys (I like them with oysters, but Keshia Sakarah’s shrimp version also tempts me), barbecue ribs and cherry pie – but many meals that have been the most memorable are the ones I didn’t expect to be eating.

I’m thinking of things such as the genuinely superb caesar salad with pickled celery and dill at Chicago’s much-loved Lula Cafe, or the potato chip and gherkin sourdough pizza at Bungalow by Middle Brow nearby. The lamb kathi rolls with pickled onions and maple yoghurt at Joya’s in Columbus, Ohio, also beg to be re-created – though I might start with Tamal Ray’s simpler-looking vegetarian version (below) – as does the peppery Vietnamese crawfish boil I got stuck into in Houston and the delicate magnolia flower ice-cream at Creole Creamery in New Orleans. We’re a bit late now for that last one in the UK, but you should still find plenty of flowers around to make Helena Garcia’s dandelion ice-cream.

I certainly didn’t imagine brussels sprouts would be quite such a feature of my trip, either – they seem to be the vegetable side du jour all over the US, popping up raw on an open-faced omelette with quinoa, rocket and avocado at Malibu Farm on the California coast, roasted with peanut tamarind sauce and peanuts at San Antonio’s American-Chinese spot Best Quality Daughter, and with pumpkin seeds, onion, cotija cheese and jalapeño-infused honey at Columbus’ live-fire joint Little West Tavern, to name but a few. Even so, they’ve all inspired me to put Yotam Ottolenghi’s roasted sprouts with hoisin sauce, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s sprout salad with hazelnuts, lemon and thyme and Oliver Rowe’s deep-fried sprouts with goat’s cheese and black chilli on my to-do list … assuming I can find any in the shops in the middle of British summer, that is. Lavender was the sweet equivalent, perfuming cakes, coffee and cocktails during my travels, though there are a few savoury ideas here, too.

Perhaps the single biggest pleasure was the range and quality of the Mexican food available almost everywhere I went: saucy birria tacos (pictured top), fresh ceviches and, of course, plastic pots of fresh fruit sprinkled with chilli, salt and lime juice found in subway stations and at intersections across the country. That’s the perfect snack when temperatures soar, though after cycling through heatwaves from Texas to Maine, I was happy to come back to a typical damp, grey British summer. Sorry all.

Ice, ice baby | In the muggy heat of New York, a bowl of patbingsu, or Korean shaved ice with red beans, mochi, ice-cream, granola and fresh fruit in the Queens neighbourhood of Murray Hill, was a revelation. As light and refreshing as sugared snow and – as they used to say about a certain brand of breakfast cereal – never the same bite twice.

Good pud | I’ve never really got on board with the idea of “healthy” desserts – moderation in all things is my theoretical mantra – but Brian Levy’s book Good & Sweet, in which the pastry chef uses fruit, rather than processed sugar, in dishes including peaches and cream brioche tart, blueberry biscuit cobbler and apple and vanilla bean ice-cream, makes zero compromises on flavour in fresh and enticing recipes.

Arriba! | Americans love an ice-cold drink, and though I’m relieved to swap watery iced coffee for a hot cortado I will definitely miss the ubiquitous frozen margarita churning away behind almost every bar, so I’m going to give them a go at home. Wish my blender luck!