If you’ve ever been on the Kentucky Derby, or just in the Bluegrass State, there is a good chance that you’ve stumbled across burgoo. This is a hearty, meat-packed stew packed with flavor that is stuck in your mouth for months, and this is the only meal you can think about for some time.
This is not a fancy dish, in fact, it is quite the opposite. It was originally made in big pots capable of feeding many people at the same time for a cost as little as possible. Think of it as a simmering pot of whatever’s on hand that day, thickened with history, species, and flavor.
But we are more interested in the history and origins of this legendary stew that even millionaires get when watching the Kentucky Derby.
So, what’s the deal with the burgoo, is it really that tasty, and where does it come from?
The History of the Burgoo
Now, there isn’t any concrete evidence about the history of this dish. Some say that originates from Kentucky, while others suggest that it might be brought overseas.
But one thing is for sure, Burgoo first appears in the early days of Kentucky, when settlers were carving out lives in the wild somewhere in the late 18th century.
We are talking about hunters, farmers and trappers, that were settling in and wanted something to eat after a long day. So, this was when the burgoo was created. People got venison from the woods, squirrel or rabbit from traps, and maybe wild turkey if the got lucky. Some of them toss corn, beans, potatoes or anything that they get their hands on, and you’ve got the makings of a stew born out of necessity.
The Burgoo wasn’t about following a particular recipe, it was about survival and cooking up everything you had before it spoiled. Maybe that’s the reason why there are so many different Burgoo recipes at the moment.
There are stories that the burgoo was a communal dish simmered over open fires and shared among many people (neighbors or at militia musters). No two pots were the same, which is kind of makes this dish so special, so even today, there is no “right” way of making a burgoo.
Where’d “Burgoo” Come From?
The word itself is a puzzle. One theory ties it to French settlers in the Ohio River Valley— “bourgou” or “burgout” might’ve been a sloppy take on “bouillon,” a meaty broth.
Another point to Welsh or English roots — “burgy” or “burgew” — old terms for a porridge or stew that crossed the Atlantic with immigrants. Some even whisper it’s a misheard “bird goo” from cooking game birds, though that’s taller tale than fact.
A wilder story credits a Civil War cook named Gus Jaubert, a Frenchman said to have whipped up a batch for Confederate troops under General John Hunt Morgan.
Legend says his thick accent turned “burgout” into “burgoo”—and soldiers carried the name (and the dish) home. No hard proof backs this, but it’s a yarn Kentuckians love to spin.
From Campfire to Community
By the mid-1800s, burgoo had morphed from a backwoods staple to a social event. Big gatherings—church picnics, political rallies, horse races—called for big pots, sometimes 50 gallons or more, stirred with paddles over wood fires.
It wasn’t just food; it was a draw, a reason to linger. Recipes grew wilder—squirrel, possum, or raccoon joined beef, pork, and chicken, with okra, lima beans, or barley thrown in for heft. Everyone brought something, and the stew soaked up the spirit of the crowd.
There is a good chance that even the Kentucky Oaks winners (the jockeys) are diving into this dish after the exhausting race.
This is where burgoo tied itself to Kentucky’s soul, especially the Derby. By the late 19th century, Churchill Downs was serving it up on race day, a cheap, hot meal for the masses. It stuck, becoming as iconic as the julep—though less refined and prouder for it.
The Civil War Connection
That Gus Jaubert tale? It’s shaky, but the Civil War did nudge burgoo along. Armies on both sides ate stews from whatever they could scrounge—hardtack, salt pork, foraged greens—and Kentucky, a border state, saw plenty of that.
Post-war, veterans might’ve brought those campfire habits home, swapping military mush for game-rich burgoo. It’s less a clean origin and more a flavor boost—war taught folks how to stretch a meal, and burgoo ran with it.
Evolution on the Stove
As Kentucky settled, the burgoo settled, too. Game meats faded as farms grew—beef, pork, and chicken took over, easier to come by and less “frontier.” Tomatoes crept in for color, Worcestershire for tang, and spices like pepper or cayenne for kick.
By the 20th century, recipes were less about survival and more about tradition—every family, town, or county swearing theirs was the real deal. Western Kentucky leans heavily on mutton (thanks to sheep country); Louisville likes it thick and veggie packed.
Cook-offs popped up—like the ones in Owensboro or Lawrenceburg—where burgoo masters still battle over who’s closest to the “original.” Spoiler: no one knows for sure, and that’s half the fun.
