Instead of honouring specific aspects of his heritage, Elrond creates something entirely new for himself.
The House of Elrond is it’s own thing. Imladris is entirely unique. You think you see something Noldorin or Sindar or even Mannish, but look for a second more and it’s not like that at all.
Because when Elrond designed it as a Homely House, he made sure anyone who came knew they’d be welcome. They could heal and start over without judgement.
(Ultimately that’s what keeps his relations with other races so strong too. They feel comfortable in this home of many lines.)
There are specifically Dúnedain influences though. He’s fostered so many kids, looked after so many families, he wants to make sure they know that they might have lost their kingdom, but they still have a home. It’s common for Dúnedain to stop by, take refuge, recover, just say hi to friends. But they’re such an unknown people, you can’t see it unless you know it’s there. There’s even a beautiful little graveyard where so many of his distant nephews and nieces have found their rest, visited regularly by the residents of Imladris.
There’s also many many trinkets from across the centuries scattered around. A wonky dagger with a place of honour, the first work of a rising chieftain. The cracked vase from that time it was knocked over by a ball from a young boy. Letters and drawings carefully kept in Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and even Celebrian’s drawers. Glorfindel, Erestor, and most residents of Rivendell have at least a few items gifted by the many generations of Dúnedain who’ve walked through the valley.
All this is taken with them when they sail, and the memory of these people whose lives were so entwined with their own lives on.