It happened on a Friday night, thirty minutes before twelve people showed up at my door. My food processor — the one I had used for every hummus and bean dip I had ever made — decided that was the…
It was my cousin’s holiday party. Forty people. Three dips. One tiny slow cooker I’d been using since college. By the time the second wave of guests arrived, my spinach artichoke was cold, my queso had gone stiff, and someone…
It was a Sunday afternoon, thirty minutes before my neighbors started arriving for game day, and my queso dip was a greasy, clumpy disaster. I had used pre-shredded cheese from a bag — big mistake. Those anti-caking coatings basically guarantee…
Baba Ganoush and Hummus Baba ganoush was next on my list. After roasting two large eggplants directly over my gas burner at medium-high flame until completely charred, I let them cool, peeled them, and worked the flesh in the mortar….
It happened at my friend Dana’s holiday party. I had made the most incredible white queso dip — velvety, spicy, absolutely perfect. Then it sat on the counter for forty minutes. By the time the second wave of guests arrived,…
It was a Saturday afternoon, two hours before my annual summer cookout, and I was elbow-deep in a chickpea disaster. My old blender was whining like it was about to take off. The hummus looked grainy. The texture was completely…
It was a Saturday night in November, and I was elbow-deep in a spinach artichoke dip disaster. My ceramic baking dish had cracked — right in the oven, mid-party — and twenty hungry guests were staring at me like I’d…
It was a Tuesday night before a big Friday party, and I was elbow-deep in a double batch of spinach artichoke dip. My old rubber spatula — the sad, warped one that had survived too many hot pans — was…
