Everyone- please raise your dressing cups, I’d like to make a toast!

I have titled this poem, “Ode to Ranch Dressing.”  Ahem.

Oh, ranch, how I miss thee.
I remember the good times where I would pour you over my french fries…
or hotdog… or burger… or pizza… or anything that wasn’t a fruit.
Sometimes at night, I think about your tangy goodness.
I always preferred you cheap – not the thick store-bought stuff.
Thick enough to stay on a french fry, yet thin enough to drip as it is being shoved in my mouth.
Give me my ranch dressing made from a powder any day.
One day we will meet (or eat) again.

The end.

Work Cam