Close your eyes—but don’t really; keep reading. Imagine you’re holding a Ruffles With Ridges potato chip in your right hand. It’s perfect: golden and oblong, curved like a wide-ass polynomial function, or Kim Kardashian’s perfume bottle’s hips; sturdy, yet supple. You fly that chip through the air, whizzing every which way—you’re playing a game now, you’re an air force pilot avoiding enemy fire—when suddenly you deviate upwards and then begin a rapid descent, falling, whistling through the crisp, quiet air. Then, BLAMMO! You breach the surface of a slightly, sublimely congealed top of a queso that’s been sitting on the snack table for like 25 minutes. It’s still warm, but not so hot that you’ll burn your little tongue.
The Ruffle With Ridges in your hand does not yield to the weight of the cheese, rather, she supports it, welcoming the weight of a worthy dip in her bosom. And as you carry your Ruffle, she carries a generous portion of your dip, up, and right into that face hole you call a mouth. You bite down. It oozes everywhere. Completion. Wonderful.
The staff of Jezebel had a similar mid-afternoon erotic fantasy (I can only tell you the specifics of mine) several weeks ago. The dip, to us, is the perfect barbecue or potluck food—perfectly gloopy, often salty, and a companion to a chip or a carrot. According to The Story Behind the Dish, chips and dip were popularized in the US in the early 1950s, when Lipton Soup Mix was heavily advertised as a potential dip ingredient, when mixed with sour cream or cream cheese.
But all this is to say that following our collective remembering of the idea of dips, it also became clear that many staffers had signature dips and wanted a chance to share them with coworkers. Hence: the birth of the (1st) Annual Jezebel Memorial Day Dip Competition. On Wednesday, we gathered in a conference room, plucky with the spirit of friendly competition, but mostly warm with the communal appreciation of the dip. Everyone filled out anonymous ballots to determine the winners. Special Projects Desk’s Anna Merlan served as an impartial, blind judge.
Megan’s French Onion Dip
Chef’s statement: “I made a French Onion dip. It is a riff on your classic French Onion dip, which involves a thing of powdered soup mix, sour cream, I decided to elevate it slightly by caramelizing the onions for like hour. It takes a really long time to caramelize onions and I teargassed myself nearly while doing this. It was very stressful. There is a little chopped shallot. There is some thyme, lemon, and salt and pepper. It is served with a salt and pepper crinkle cut kettle chip. The dip does go well with a crudité, but to get the full effect, you need a chip, and a sturdy chip.”
Judges say: “The taste is just exquisite, the right balance of tangy, creamy, yummy… What else is there to say?? Also, it was one of the only dips that wasn’t so spicy that I needed to grab my water, which, of course, I forgot at my desk.”
“An extremely classic dip, popular with all audiences, executed perfectly.
Koa’s Fava Bean Dip
Chef’s statement: “This is a fava bean dip. It is made very simply in the blender. It is fava beans, olive oil (virgin), lemon zest, shallots, and sea salt. My preferred serving is on mini toasts with a single shard of parmesan.”
Judges say: “Who would have thought the cursed fava bean could be transformed into something so creamy? The brightness of the lemon zest really made it pop and was so refreshing.”
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