LONG BEFORE THE BOYS IN THE LAB and I went into business together (and, unfortunately, after they discovered pickleball), they’d often have a big laugh, making fun of my love of dip and crudités.
“You and your ridiculous ‘hand salads’!” they’d say, while picking up a celery stick or a piece of fennel and scooping up too much of my Green Goddess dip.
But what they were ignoring for the price of making fun of me was the distinct upside to eating a salad with your hands this way. (I’m glad if that’s how they want to see it; any method of portage people want to employ is fine by me.)
Part of the joy of the crudités-and-dip combo—aside from the fact that it is completely awesome—is standing over a bowl or three or four of your favorite dips, choosing your instrument from the platter (carrot? sugar snap pea?), digging into one dip, then starting over, tackling the situation with a different conveyance strategy or combination. And repeating.
It’s that sense of control that strikes me as such a nice change from the classic idea of pre-planned and assembled salad, combined with the sense of community that comes from dipping food into a shared bowl, with family at home or friends at cocktails—not to mention the frisson of inappropriate intimacy that comes from enjoying dip at larger events with strangers (just hopefully not at the communal potato bar at Western Steer or a kiosk at the mall).
It’s nice to have control over something in this crazy world, and if getting Green Goddess on a carrot instead of raw broccoli is my win for the day, I’m thrilled.
Anyway, in America, before we became a more poly-culinary nation of eaters, the classic idea of dip—or, at least, the dip people were eating when dip platters began appearing everywhere—was usually a creamy one, and that still seems to be a standard idea. I love creamy dips and spreads, as much as I love heavier bean/legume concoctions. And dip is one of my favorite grazing meals to make when I’m away from home (or our Atlanta-based salad lab), the way I am now. But I’ve been thinking of lighter dips.
Despite the fact that we’re well into spring here in Virginia, it’s been cold enough that I have been forced to buy a very ugly woolen cap to wear with my down vest while walking Zoe the dog each night. Which is why I had started preparing a comforting bagna càuda (or hot bath)—not for myself but for some crisp vegetables.
I’m referring to the classic Italian hot dip of olive oil, garlic, and anchovies. It seemed especially perfect for a spring cold snap (or any time, of course). And then it turned very blossomy and springy, and I veered even further away from the heavier dips toward something as fresh and light as the weather.
I’m still giving you one of my favorite dairy-based wonders—a simple lemon-feta dip that I’ve been making for decades, which never fails to put the git in my gittyup. But in addition, I have two non-dairy vegetable-based dips that are as revelatory as the great book they came from, Saladish, by Ilene Rosen, who was a chef at City Bakery, one of my favorite lunch places many years ago.
As I mentioned in this issue, we plan to recommend more books as they inspire us. I happened to re-open this one on a day when it was just beautiful out, the mint and chives were already coming up in the garden, I’d scored some ripe avocados, and I had an extra cucumber, because I always have cucumbers wherever I go. I often travel with lemons and cucumbers.
I love this book so much—it will open your mind to what a salad can be.
A small reminder: Dip doesn’t have to be a party food, and dip can be dinner—even when you find yourself eating alone—two things I re-learned after small dip party with some neighbors here in my hometown fell through.
All of these dips are perfect with just about any vegetable you can think of—I laid out strips of red pepper and raw fennel, celery and carrot sticks, asparagus and sugar snap peas, and cucumber rounds—and the feta dip is also terrific on crackers, or pita chips, or slices of baguette. The cucumber and avocado are kicked into outer space with the addition of the Sweet Lime Salt, so make it!