I have resigned myself to the somewhat weird, mythological loop of living in an extended-stay hotel. Legends shall know me as Jessica, of the Embassy Suites, or Jessica, the Latter-Day Eloise, or Jessica, she who now refuses to wear clothing on the weekends. Living in a hotel is part indulgent and part watching a beloved relative or public blogging figure lose all of their remaining self-sufficiency. I may have forgotten how to make a bed. And how to cook eggs. I may have lost all meaning of non-fresh towels, warm from the dryer, fresh sheets changed on a daily basis, and I may occasionally ogle nicer hotel rooms on the internet on the hotel’s internet connection (oh baby, I’m sorry) but I have not lost the ability to both endure and enjoy terrible food.
The particular Walmart where this delicacy was sourced serves only as a grocery store so I was scouring the shelves looking for duck fat (no) and odd foods that have not yet made it out to other parts of the country or even the internet. (bingo) Taco Bell sour cream dip in three flavors? Mama likes. I am hoping to have a framed commission of myself balancing the purchase of fresh lard, dip, and corn chips in one hand, and fresh pheasant, thyme, and juniper berries from Fresh Market in the other, from 30 minutes prior. One must have a balanced diet, you know.To be honest, I’m not entirely sure where I stand on sour cream dips, as on the broad scale of meat, cheese, jam, sauce, and salsa-based dips, sour cream feels superfluous, an ingredient rather than the star. Taco Bell wishes to capitalize on this tepid sour cream dip market and advertises REAL sour cream, in passive-aggressive all caps on the side, along with an innocuous graph of the heat level. Which is fire. Wait, does the inclusion of real sour cream preclude the fact that this registers a ‘fire’ on an otherwise unmarked scale? Taco Bell, I know approximately three month’s worth of torts, so I have to tell you that according to my diligently scrawled notes from 10 September 2013, ‘strict liability is some serious shit, and order a pizza tonight, maybe?’ Heed my words, future readers, should this dip ever enter your bustling metropolis, the end result is indeed fire. Yes, ‘end,’ as in ‘ensuing’ and ‘butt.’ This stuff is hot. It doesn’t play around. It’s certainly hotter than Taco Bell’s original fire sauce, there is a significant burn completely unfettered by the dairy with an underlying sweetness from the carrots and bell peppers. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted from Taco Bell without having to actually go to Taco Bell, which makes it literally holy. I love it.