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Is ranch just for kids? My argument with Lisa Stringer (my tried and true tested recipe included)
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Is ranch just for kids? My argument with Lisa Stringer (my tried and true tested recipe included)
When I was a kid, we had two types of dressing, Italian and Mammas dressing. Mammas dressing was the fan favorite in my house. It was made of mayo, ketchup, distilled vinegar, and if my mother was feeling adventurous, some dill pickle relish. Sound familiar? Yes, it is classic thousand island, or sometimes called special sauce. There was also something called blue cheese that my mother or father would get, or worse Roquefort. That was a bit outside the palette appeal of 8-year-old Jeff so we just stuck to the basics. Well in the 80’s as my family moved from the south to the north, I started expanding my palette. I tried a bunch, Russian, (just sweeter thousand island if you ask me), Cesar, French (hint: its thousand island again, just no relish, it’s all thousand island, don’t ask me why) even something called Ranch. Buttermilk Ranch. Now who ever would have thought that the foulest tasting milk would be made into what must be one of the most popular dressings for kids? I have a strong opinion about Ranch dressing. That opinion is that it need not be consumed by anyone over the age of 14 least they be presumed to have absolutely no culinary taste. They might as well put ketchup on their steak. Now in walks Lisa Stringer. I will be the first to admit that I have never met her. She is the wife of a friend of mine, Wild Bill Big Cock (Bill Stringer to the rest of the world) who has long since moved to somewhere deep in the heart of Texas. I have to admit, Bill and I were drinking buddies back in the day, but that was more me than him. In any event, back to the story. Now Lisa being the wife of Bill, I presume is over the age of 14 unless somethings have changed in Texas since my last visit. She has actually proclaimed publicly the following: |
Now, I don’t know about you, but I have heard of this before and I can certainly say with full confidence that this will not stand, so I made some comment questioning her ability to taste.
Then the battle started, innocently with this little shot over the bow:
Then the battle started, innocently with this little shot over the bow:
With typical Jeff snark and commentary, I decided the best approach was to further toss the salad debate (you see, see what you’ve gone and made me do Lisa?). It just got ugly from there.
I even told her of one pizza place, right there in good ol’ Texas that has banned the practice of Ranch dipping in their parlor. Good for them I say.
She doth protest too much. But before I let her retreat, I expanded the battle into that of chopped or not, and speaking of Shakespeare, just what the hell are “Salad Days”, (oh am I getting too literate on you?). Finally, I throw in the deli salad quandary, ham, egg, potato, chicken, and tuna, can we get some love?
As you can see, I blew her mind with my...indifference? Well to make it up to her, I supplied her with my best ranch dressing, tried out on my own 14-year-old daughter, and what the hell, I kind of like it too.
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