Sunday, I made a Hamburger Of Doom: good ground round, cooked with just a jot of Worcestershire, served on a nice, crusty artisanal* bun topped with Havarti, sliced orange cherry tomatoes (soooo much better than one big pulpy slice!), a thin bit of onion and a fried egg, along with real chili sauce (beats ketchup six ways from Sunday and snickers at catsup as effete) and brown mustard.
I had a nice side salad planned and a genuine Moxie to wash everything down, but it needed something more. Aha! Crinkly chips and French onion dip! Ooooo!
Y'know what dip our Fresh'n'Ferengi Market did not have? Can you guess? And by then, I was really hankering for the stuff. What to do, what to do... H'mm, what's got that taste and makes a good-- And there it was. Floating on a sea of white light (okay, just the fluro tubes in the cooler): plain Greek hommus!
If you ask me, it's better than most kinds of French onion dip/sour cream and onion dip. The sesame-garlic taste works wonders on the humble potato chip and while the mouthfeel isn't quite the same, it does fine. Besides, mashed chickpeas and sesame paste? Way better than milk that's been allowed to turn! (YMMV -- ya milk-drinking mutant).
It made the meal. --Which was totally indulgent, jumped-up junk food. "Moderation in all things," right? Even moderation.
* In fact, I believe every bag contains the complete crust of at least one artisan; but I may have misread that.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago