With summer beckoning, lots of New Yorkers will hear the call of the open road. But with gas running more than $3 a gallon, you might need a little coaxing to respond to that call. And if you’re anything like me, nothing breaks down that road trip resistance like the promise of great regional food waiting at the other end of the highway.

With that in mind, here are four destinations that boast intensely local food scenes. You can easily visit any of them and get back home within the space of a weekend. Each of them offers the greatest summer treat of all: a taste of America.

Rhode Island

Despite being America’s smallest state, Rhode Island has a surprisingly large number of state-specific foods. Chief among them are johnnycakes, the wonderful unleavened cornmeal pancakes featured at breakfast joints and coffee shops like the Commons Lunch (48 Commons Road, Little Compton, 401-635-4388),where you can also sample stuffed quahogs – also known as stuffies – which are large chowder clam shells holding a spectacular baked stuffing made from chopped clams, bread crumbs, sausage, onions, celery, peppers, and hot sauce.

You can also get stuffies at George’s (250 Sand Hill Cove Road, Narragansett, 401-783-2306), a seaside eatery that features another Rhode Island specialty: clam cakes. Despite the name, these are nothing like crab cakes – they’re actually delicious deep-fried clam fritters. And you can try a different kind of Rhode Island fritter at Iggy’s (889 Oakland Beach Ave., Warwick, 401-737-9459), which specializes in the addictive deep-fried hunks of pizza dough known as doughboys.

Whatever you eat in Rhode Island, wash it down with coffee milk (similar to chocolate milk except it’s made with sweetened coffee syrup), which is ubiquitous on menus throughout the state. Also be sure to stop in at an outlet of Del’s Frozen Lemonade, a local chain that serves a dynamite drink sort of halfway between Italian ices and a Slurpee, like lemony half-melted snow. And if you see a Newport Creamery outlet, go in and order an Awful Awful, a massive milkshake whose name is short for “Awful big, awful good.”

Philadelphia

Lots of Philly cheesesteak venues have been opening in New York lately, but nothing can top the authentic experience of savoring a cheesesteak in its home city. For years the boilerplate choices have been Geno’s Steaks (1219 S. 9th St., 215-389-0659) and Pat’s King of Steaks (1237 E. Passyunk Ave., 215-468-1546), which inspire monomaniacal allegiance among their respective devotees. Fortunately, they’re located catty-corner to each other, so it’s easy to sample both of them and decide for yourself which is best. Less celebrated, but every bit as good, is Jim’s Steaks (400 South St., 215-928-1911).

Wherever you get your cheesesteak, be sure to stick to the standard two-word ordering protocol: First you say what kind of cheese you want (the choices are usually provolone, American, or Cheez Whiz), then you say whether you want onions. So a typical order would be “Provolone, with” or “Whiz, without.” There’s no faster way to be identified as an out-of-town rube than to deviate from this format.

Baltimore

Nothing says summer like a big pile of Baltimore crabs steamed with Old Bay seasoning. the waiter will cover your table with a sheet of butcher’s paper, and the cooked crabs will then be dumped directly onto the paper. No serving platter, no plates, just a big pile of crustaceans. It’s a very festive ritual.

That’s just one of the ritualistic aspects of a Baltimore crab feast. Others include the wooden mallets or dowels you’ll be given to crack open the shells, the slow burn you’ll feel as the Old Bay powder gets into the nicks and cuts inevitably caused by the sharp shell edges (the sting is oddly satisfying in a “no pain, no gain” sort of way), and, of course, the magnificently sweet crab meat that makes all this effort worthwhile.

It’s hard to go wrong at any Baltimore crab outlet, but three particularly good ones are the Crack Pot (8102 Loch Raven Blvd., 410-828-1095), Schooner’s (7703 Belair Road, 410-668-5053), and Obrycki’s (1727 E. Pratt St., 410-732-6399).

Massachusetts’ North Shore

There are plenty of places to eat fried seafood. But only one of them is the place to eat fried seafood, and that would be the little strip of Massachusetts shoreline extending north from Boston. This area, known as the North Shore, is particularly notable for its fried clams, which are harvested locally from the mud flats on Essex Bay. After being shucked, the clam bellies are usually rolled in cornmeal and then flash-fried.When done properly, the result is wonderfully briny without being greasy.

First-rate North Shore clam eater ies include Essex Seafood (143R Eastern Ave., Essex, 978-768-7233), J.T. Farnham’s (88 Eastern Ave., Essex, 978-768-6643), and Woodman’s of Essex (121 Main St., Essex, 978-768-6451). But for the quintessential experience, go to the Clam Box (246 High St., Ipswich, 978-356-9707), which lives up to its name because the building is actually shaped like a cardboard to-go container. It’s a genuine roadside landmark, and the clams taste like a summer day at the beach.