You know how some celebrations just aren’t the same without certain foods? Of course, Christmas with my Dad’s people is like that too. Aunt Ann brings the pumpkin roll, Mom brings the punch, Aunt Sue brings the ham…you know how it works.


And Cassie? My sister in law Cassie brings the buffalo chicken dip.


The recipe looks relatively simple but I am telling you she does something to it that just puts it over the top. Maybe she goes to Martha Stewart’s happy little free range chicken farm for the poultry. I don’t know. I do know that people, myself included, stand around it like ravenous wolves to eat it at any event that it comes to.

At Christmas in the barn, I take some pics…


Chat with the littles…


And I eat the delicious buffalo chicken dip.

This year something terrible happened. I really don’t know how it occurred. The laws of physics can’t even explain it! One minute I was walking away from the dip and the next minute it was upside down on the hard concrete floor of the barn.

It was awful. The party had just started and a lot of people hadn’t even gotten a taste of it yet! And I’m being flippant but it really was just the worst. I guess I just jostled the table as I was walking away.


Stop judging me, Reindeer!

I apologized profusely to everyone but what could I do – the damage was done.

A couple days later this text came thru.


This is heresy and fallacy! Malarkey! I may be jealous of her cooking skills but I would NEVER sabotage my opportunity to eat Cassie’s buffalo chicken dip!


Here’s the recipe:

2 1/2 cups cooked shredded chicken

1 8 oz cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup sour cream

1 cup Ranch dressing

1 cup shredded cheddar

1/2 – 3/4 cup Frank’s hot sauce

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combing cream cheese and sour cream until smooth. Add chicken, dressing, and cheese and mix well. Slowly add hot sauce to taste. Bake for twenty minutes. Serve with Triscuits or fresh veggies.

You can add ‘Paula’s tears’ to this recipe because that’s how I felt after ruining the whole dish.


No comments from you, kid. 

Sabotage indeed. The sabotage was on whoever set that rickety table up! Oh wait, that was me too. Well heck.

I guess there is always next Christmas.

Speak Your Mind