A few days ago, I was roaming the dining hall with a plate of Cajun chicken & spinach greens and casting an eye around for the next step to my leafy smorgasbord — as I am often wont to do — when I noticed that the girl in front of me was sporting the same exact plate of food.
Did she know I do this food blogging thing? Was she hoping to take a page out of my culinary skill(s)et? No, flattering reader: we’re big, but not thaaat big. We both wandered towards the island of dressing, lifting bottle after bottle and casting each aside. Finally, she turned to me and said, “Nothing here is right.”
“I know,” I whined, half-heartedly lifting the Ranch dressing and then putting it aside. What was HUDS missing this time around?
She shrugged and put some vinegar and oil in a small dish, ready to make her own dressing. But the day called for something heftier than plain old oil and vinegar, and I spent another minute surveying the dressing arena.





