Creamy Bacon Cheeseburger Dip

The Santa Ana winds came through Tuesday. Fire warnings. Ryan was on duty at Miramar. Standard week.

Caleb, 8, wants to be a firefighter still. Has not deviated. Hazel, 5, opinions about everything. Has Donna's directness without the diplomacy.

Chili Saturday. Beef and beans. Cornbread on the side. Fed everyone for two days.

Mom called Sunday. We talked while she was putting up tomatoes from the garden. She is sixty-something and gardening like she is forty. Megan called from D.C.. We talked twenty minutes. The relationship is better now than it was.

The freezer is the secret. The freezer was full this week.

The military spouses' Facebook group had a small drama this week. Two women fighting over the playgroup schedule. I muted notifications and cooked dinner. Some weeks the group is the lifeline. Some weeks it is the source of unnecessary stress. The skill is knowing which week you're in.

Base housing is base housing. Beige walls, beige carpet, beige expectations. The dryer venting is in a stupid place. The kitchen has no dishwasher. We make it work.

Wednesday morning meal prep — Sunday afternoon, hours of containers. The freezer is full. The future-me thanks present-me. Donna taught me this routine. Donna's freezer was always full. Donna saved her sanity with quart bags labeled in Sharpie.

Caleb's school had a fundraiser this week. I baked cookies because I always bake cookies. The cookies were the standard chocolate chip. They sold out in twenty minutes. I am the cookie mom of this PTO and I have stopped fighting it.

I read the blog comments at the kitchen table with my coffee. A young spouse in Lejeune emailed me about deployment cooking. I wrote her back at length. I told her about the freezer. I told her about Donna. I told her she would survive. I sent her three of Donna's recipes.

Ryan came home tired Wednesday. He showered, ate, sat on the couch, was asleep by eight. Standard for a Marine who has been up since four-thirty for PT and stayed late for a brief. The schedule is the schedule. The body adapts because it has to.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night writing in the journal. Volume 11 now. The handwriting has not gotten neater. The journals are a record of the life I am living, in the moment, in tiny script that I will look back on someday and not be able to read. That is okay. The writing was the thing.

The kids' soccer game was Saturday morning. The other parents brought oranges and Capri Suns. I brought a thermos of coffee for myself and a folding chair I bought at Target three years ago that has been to four duty stations now. The chair is a more loyal companion than some of my friends.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

Reading another military memoir at night. They make Ryan tense. They steady me. We negotiate. He doesn't ask what I'm reading. I don't tell him. The arrangement works.

I made a casserole for a neighbor whose husband is deployed. I dropped it off. She cried. I told her, eat the casserole, baby. The food is the saying. The casserole was a mostly-frozen tater-tot situation that took fifteen minutes of effort and six months of practice to perfect.

Dad called. He has been gardening. He is sending zucchini updates again. The PTSD is managed. He talks more than he used to. He is becoming his own version of healed, which I did not think was possible at fourteen.

The chili fed us for two days, which is exactly the point — but when Saturday rolls around again and the winds are still blowing and Ryan’s home tired and the kids need something they can reach into and grab without ceremony, this Creamy Bacon Cheeseburger Dip is what I pull out. Donna would have approved: it makes a big batch, it holds well, and it asks very little of you at the end of a long week. I’ve kept a version of this in rotation since Pendleton, and it has fed more exhausted Marines and hungry eight-year-olds than I can count.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 10

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef (80/20)
6 slices bacon, cooked crispy and crumbled
8 oz cream cheese, softened and cubed
1 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/3 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon yellow mustard
1/2 cup diced dill pickles
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Tortilla chips, crackers, or toasted baguette slices for serving

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9-inch baking dish or a medium cast iron skillet and set aside.
Cook the bacon. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook bacon until crispy. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate, crumble when cool, and set aside. Leave about 1 teaspoon of drippings in the pan.
Brown the beef. In the same skillet over medium-high heat, add ground beef. Break it up and cook until no pink remains, about 7–8 minutes. Drain excess fat. Season lightly with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and onion powder.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium-low. Add cream cheese to the skillet with the beef and stir until melted and fully incorporated. Stir in sour cream, ketchup, and mustard until smooth.
Combine. Fold in 1 cup of the shredded cheddar, the diced pickles, and half the crumbled bacon. Stir to combine evenly.
Transfer and top. Spread the mixture into your prepared baking dish. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar and remaining bacon over the top.
Bake. Bake uncovered for 18–22 minutes, until the cheese on top is melted, bubbling at the edges, and just beginning to turn golden.
Serve. Let rest 5 minutes before serving. Serve warm with tortilla chips, crackers, or toasted bread. Leftovers reheat well in a 325°F oven covered with foil, or in a slow cooker on low.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Bacon Cheeseburger Dip — Because the Freezer Is Always the Secret