First Christmas in California is behind us and it was — as Mom predicted with annoying accuracy — different but good. The palm trees instead of pine trees. The warm air instead of cold. The fact that Ryan grilled on Christmas Eve in a t-shirt while I made eggnog (non-alcoholic, still nursing, the bourbon waits).
But the food was the same. That's the miracle. The food travels. The glazed ham and the scalloped potatoes and the green beans and the cookies and the fudge — they were Mom's recipes in my kitchen and they tasted like Norfolk even though we were 2,500 miles away. The food doesn't know geography. The food knows hands.
Caleb's first conscious Christmas — last year he was four weeks old and barely aware of his own hands, let alone presents. This year he's thirteen months old and VERY aware of wrapping paper, which he ate, and shiny things, which he grabbed, and the toy kitchen from Grandma, which he has claimed as his personal territory and defends against all intruders including his father.
The toy kitchen. It has a fake stove and fake pots and Caleb stands at it and bangs a pot with a spoon and says 'MO' and I sit on the floor watching him and I think: Donna, you genius. You absolute genius. You gave a one-year-old a kitchen and now he cooks. Not real cooking. Imaginary cooking. But cooking.
Mom would say: 'All cooking starts with imagination.'
New Year's Eve was quiet. Ryan and I on the couch with Caleb asleep in the crib and a bowl of Mom's appetizer recipes — spinach dip, pigs in blanket, the cheese board. We watched the ball drop (three hours late, because California) and kissed at midnight Pacific time, which is 3 AM Eastern, which means Mom and Dad were already asleep and the year had been 2020 for hours in Norfolk before it was 2020 for us.
2020. The year I turn twenty-two. The year Caleb turns two. The year the blog becomes... whatever it becomes. The year of the column, the writing, the 'for all the Donnas.'
2020. It's going to be a good year. I can feel it.
(I can't feel it. I can't see what's coming. None of us can.)
Happy New Year. The appetizers are gone. The baby is asleep. And 2020 stretches ahead of us, full of things we can't imagine.
Resolutions:
1. Write the column. Every week.
2. Cook with Caleb (for real, not toy kitchen, actual food participation)
3. Learn five new recipes from five new cultures
4. Call Mom every night. Never stop calling Mom.
The list is short. The ambition is big. The year is new.
Let's go.
That New Year’s Eve bowl of appetizers — spinach dip, pigs in blanket, the cheese board — was Mom’s doing in spirit even if my hands did the work, and the spinach artichoke dip was the one that disappeared fastest. There’s something exactly right about a dip that you set in the slow cooker and mostly forget about, because when you’re watching a sleeping baby monitor and waiting for a ball to drop three hours late, you don’t want to be in the kitchen — you want to be on the couch, present, in the moment, in the year that’s about to begin. This is the recipe. The one that let me do both.
Slow Cooker Spinach Artichoke Dip
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours | Total Time: 2 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 (10 oz) package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
- 1 (14 oz) can artichoke hearts, drained and roughly chopped
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened and cubed
- 1 cup sour cream
- 1/2 cup mayonnaise
- 1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Tortilla chips, sliced baguette, or crackers for serving
Instructions
- Prep the spinach. Thaw the frozen spinach completely, then wrap it in a clean kitchen towel and squeeze out as much moisture as possible. This step matters — too much water and the dip will be thin.
- Combine everything. Add the cream cheese, sour cream, mayonnaise, 1 cup of the mozzarella, the Parmesan, garlic, onion powder, and red pepper flakes to the slow cooker. Stir to combine, then fold in the spinach and chopped artichoke hearts. Season with salt and pepper.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 2 hours, stirring once halfway through, until the cream cheese is fully melted and everything is hot and creamy throughout.
- Top with cheese. About 15 minutes before serving, sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella over the top, replace the lid, and let it melt.
- Serve warm. Switch the slow cooker to the WARM setting and serve directly from the insert with tortilla chips, sliced baguette, or sturdy crackers alongside.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 340mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 196 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
