Ain't Easy Bein' Cheesy

Over the years, I've lived in San Francisco, Manhattan and Brooklyn, and I'm used to having people coo longingly about my geographic choices. When I moved to the Jerz, I was faced with a surprising amount of negativity. I realize I'm not telling you anything you don't know, but still. I was and am shocked with the amount of socially sanctioned Jersey slamming.

And I know it's not very Jersey to admit this, but all that negativity hurts.

Take last week, for instance, when I was at the Little Rock, Arkansas, Cheese Dip Championships.

I met a guy there who was born and bred in Morristown, now living in Little Rock. We met, chatted, and he quietly confessed that he doesn't usually share that he's from New Jersey, as he took a lot of flack about it for most of his life. He told me that he used to own a shirt with a map of New Jersey that said, "We don't like it either".

Today, that shirt seems to have morphed into something more along the lines of "We don't like YOU either", and a quick web search returns far too many NJ comeback t-shirts that hit first, ask questions later (and are laced with much profanity. Google at your own risk).

With that as my premise, follow me on a little digression. As I mentioned, I was at the Cheese Dip Championships. In Little Rock. Arkansas. Now I'm sure you can think of a sass or two about the place, and after visiting, I'll forever have emblazoned on my brain a lawyer's billboard inquiring, "Hit By A Big Rig?"

But in truth, I have nothing but positive things to say about Little Rock. It's historic, proud, home to some very enthusiastic people--and to Cheese Dip.

You know Cheese Dip? It's as famous in Little Rock as Taylor ham is here, except you have to make it. And that shouldn't be too hard, as the base recipe calls for just two ingredients: 1 pound Velveeta, 1 can Rotel tomatoes (a Texas-born brand of chopped tomatoes and chilis; fiery and delicious). You can't show your face at a Razorbacks game without a crock pot full of Cheese Dip, served with corn chips.

As a professionally trained chef, I found myself in the unique position of purchasing Rotel (great new find) and Velveeta (a little tougher for a from-scratch food professional to sanction) at my local A&P, so that I could prepare a dip worthy of entry into the competition.

I invited some friends over, prepped the dip, and we ate like animals. Voracious, rabid, lunatic animals. Over the course of the week, my fiance poured quantities of dip over roast broccoli, mashed potatoes--and I'm sure he could have found some other great places to slather it had we not finished the batch.

So let's pull these threads together:

Jersey, Velveeta, and Arkansas get a lot of flack. And it's not completely undeserved, BUT. If we let that negativity stop us from finding the inner core; the needle in the haystack, the diamond in the coal mine...well, then we might never enjoy some of the most important pleasures of the place. Like Rotel-Velveeta Cheese Dip. Because, as we know, being cheesy, well, it ain't easy.

New Jersey, go to your local (not-Whole-Foods) grocery store and make some purchases. Buy the Velveeta, the corn chips, the Rotel, and prep the recipe as advised on the back of the Rotel can. If you like, add scallions, bacon and beer (like I did at the Cheese Dip festival), and make it even more delicious. Go to your Jets/Giants/Eagles/Rutgers games, and bring Cheese Dip. Because whether or not your team does well, at least you'll have something to look forward to on the weekends.

Yours in positivity and Cheese Dip,
Allison

Allison Fishman is the host of Yahoo's Blue Ribbon Hunter and author of You Can Trust A Skinny Cook . For delicious humor & recipes, visit allisonfishman.com or follow @allisonfishman on Twitter.

Tags: Food | american food