Lazy Nachos

Scene: some bar, Oskaloosa, Iowa.

Two-year-old me sits in a barstool, because this is the early ninties, so you can totally just take a two-year-old into a bar. My Grandma Dee and Grandpa Shelk are sitting with me. That’s when I spot it: on the bar, a bowl of cheese dip. I know what it is, I’ve seen the grown ups eat it before. They use chips, in triangle or round shapes, and scoop it into their mouths. Sure enough, there’s a flat, geometric shape sitting on the bar next to me. I pluck it up, scoop up some dip, and bite down. The cheese is good, if a little spicy, but there’s something wrong with the chip. For some reason I can’t seem to bite all the way through it. Finally my grandmother turns around and sees what I’ve gotten up to in the five seconds she had her back turned. Laughing, she takes the cheese-covered drink coaster from me.

This particular nacho dip recipe has been part of my memory since before I started remembering things. Apparently a recipe from my Grandma (and maybe someone before her, I really don’t know), this recipe is synonymous in my mind with my dad. From poker nights with his friends, to watching the early 90’s bulls (and my favorite and namesake, one Michael Jordan), to tailgating at Hawkeye games, this recipe is synonymous with dad— not just my dad, but the idea of “dad”— and ingrained as such right next to taco pizza (Casey’s General Store taco pizza by the way, as if there’s any other kind), Bud Light, and being told that I’m a smart kid, I just need to apply myself.

The dish itself, all sentimental value aside, holds its own as well. Simple, cheesy, creamy, and with an easily adjustable amount of spice (I prefer to only give it a slight bite, but if you want to add Ghost Peppers and tear gas to it, by all means), this simple dip is perfect for pretty much any occasion.

Super Bowl? Nacho dip.

New years party? Nacho dip.

Church potluck? I’ll give you three guesses. That’s right, nacho dip.

Christmas and Thanksgiving with the family? Maybe it’s not the most posh thing out there, but my family is fairly, ahem, “rural”, and the nacho dip is more than fancy enough. It’s good enough not to need to be fancy. And if you’re that worried, just bring a bottle of wine, and wham, you’re still classy (a trick I learned not from school etiquette classes or from family legacy, but from Seinfeld. Go figure.).

Here’s the other thing about this dip, and the thing that really sells it, even more than the (amazing) taste: it is insultingly easy. Seriously. Maybe you’ve never made literally any kind of food ever.

You can make this.

It only requires a microwave and a stove-top. If you’re willing to forgo the meat, then you can forgo the stove-top as well. It honestly works without the meat, though its obviously better with. Finally, a dish you can bring that your sister-who’s-sometimes-a-vegetarian-but-sometimes-not-and-you’re-really-not-sure-what’s-going-on-with-that-but-it-probably-has-to-do-with-the-divorce-so-you-just-don’t-ask will eat. Though again, it’s better with the meat.

Another great thing about this recipe is its portability. Say you’re headed to your uncle’s house for Christmas but he lives an hour and a half away in Southern Iowa (boy these examples are getting weirdly specific). Just throw the ingredients together in a bowl and head out. Your uncle owns a microwave, it doesn’t make any sense to microwave it at home when it’s just gonna need microwaved again at his house. Just skip a step and microwave it there (of course, you’ll need to brown the meat at home, unless you’re gonna also use his range, which would necessitate using his skillet, which would mean giving him dirty dishes, and he’s already hosting Christmas so that’s kind of a sucky thing to do, right? So brown the meat at home). The cheese isn’t cheese, it’s American Pasteurized Cheese Product. It’s shelf stable. It’s basically plastic explosives without the stabilizers that make C4 safe.

I suppose at this point you want the recipe. Fine. I’ve run out of filler anyway. Wait, did I mention the ‘93 Bulls? I did? Okay then, yeah, I’m done.

You will need:

• One 16 oz block of American Pasteurized Cheese Product. Velveeta, or the store brand version of same. If you found it in the refrigerated section, it’s not the right stuff.
• One giant can of diced tomatoes and peppers (Rotel brand or similar) OR one jar of salsa. I’m pretty sure the recipe itself calls for the diced tomatoes, but, having tried it both ways, I think I like the salsa version better. This is one of the places you can customize the dish too— mild, medium, hot, core-of-a-dying-pulsar, etc. Whatever your spice preference be, grab the salsa that fits. Just be sure to, of course, get the chunky kind.
• A splash of milk. If you don’t have milk, you can actually go without, but the cheese melts better and is smoother and creamier with.
• (OPTIONAL) One pound of some kind of meat. My default is mild sausage, but again, you can mix it up depending on taste and what you have available. Ground beef? Great. Ground turkey? Works just fine. Spicy sausage? If you like it hot, as the Power Station have assured me some do. Want to use that expensive, locally made sausage that you can’t really tell the difference of but are assured it’s better? If you’ve got the scratch for it, go nuts.

That’s it. Four total ingredients, two of them skippable. And of course, grab some tortilla chips. Or some coasters I suppose.

Ready for the (insanely difficult) process? Here goes:

Dice the block of play-doh cheese into… small blocks of play-doh cheese. Doesn’t matter exactly how big, cooking’s more art than science anyways. About halfway between dice and Rubik’s Cube sized should do it. A child’s building block is about the right size, I think? Throw them into a microwave-safe bowl (my family tradition says use glass, but plastic is probably fine too, if you want to spit on my family’s traditions) and add a splash of milk. I don’t know how much a splash is. It’s a splash. Two jiggers, if you’re gonna be that guy about it, and happen to have a cocktail set available. Throw the bowl in the microwave, and set the timer for two minutes. Don’t set the bowl directly in the middle of the microwave, set it sort of to the side. Never put anything directly in the middle of the microwave. Wave patterns and such. Just trust me on this.

If you’re using meat, start browning it now. If not, ask Alexa to play some death metal to pass the time.

Your microwave just beeped. Stir the blocks of cheese. They’re a bit softer, but still blocks, yeah? Put them back in (off-center, but then you knew that) and run them for two more minutes.

Continue to stir meat, or headbang to Behemoth.

Stir cheese again. The cheese is likely becoming soupy, but there’s probably still chunks of semi-solid foodstuff in there. Microwave, off-center, two minutes.

Saute meat/ jam out.

Stir the cheese again. Now it’s time for a judgement call. Is the cheese fairly soupy? It doesn’t have to be runny, but there shouldn’t be any chunks of cheese-like entity anymore. If it’s ready, throw it in the microwave, but don’t start it. It’s just in there to stay warm. If there are still chunks, it should only need like two more minutes at most.

Open the can of tomatoes, or jar of salsa. If it’s a can, drain it. If it’s a jar, don’t. Dump meat and tomatoes/salsa into the cheese. Stir. Microwave for like one minute, just to be sure.

Done. If you did this efficiently, Behemoth’s “O Father, O Satan, O Sun” is just ending. If not, don’t worry, it still took you under ten minutes. Cover it with saran wrap and take it to whatever gathering you’re trying to be the hero of. But again, bring chips, lest your guests have to use coasters.

And a quick note on portability…

Earlier I mentioned that the dish is portable if you need to take it long distances. Rather than trying to keep it hot, just keep it cold instead. That is:

Dice the cheese. Throw the tomatoes/salsa on top. Add browned meat. Cover and throw in the fridge until the meat is cold. Now you can just bring the whole thing to your uncles house and do the six minutes of microwaving there. You’d have to repeat it anyways, so what’s the difference? This dish also keeps well in the refrigerator— heating it back up in the microwave returns it to it’s goopy glory. Just, again, for the love of God— bring chips.