Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • When you grow up in the Midwest, ranch is the king of all condiments. I use the term condiment because it is not used solely as a dressing; rather it is used as a pre-bite baptism …into which each morsel must be dunked until cleansed of its sins.

    There is really no meal where ranch is not welcome. Everyone has their favorite combo. When you see the ranch arrive at the table next to you ...for the dippin' and the swirlin' ...you give the lucky recipient a “Sup” head nod of recognition and take solace in knowing that they too grew up eating fried cheese sticks on a regular basis.

    What’s the point of this story, you might ask.

    The All American Lunch! A most recent obsession…..BECAUSE…..thanks to my guilty ranch pleasure, I can completely justify that fresh breadsticks are a perfectly acceptable meal. I pick up my fresh, crisp stick …hit the red, hit the white and then wash it down with the blue.

    Thank you, America.

    Now I run.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.