It all started with the Super Bowl and my son-in-law Mike’s birthday, which were back-to-back this year. Naturally, they were both celebrated, even though my husband, Clif, and I are so disinterested in sports that we had no idea who the playing teams were. Never mind! We love birthdays, and we are always ready for a celebration that involves eating.

As I was in the grocery store buying food for the birthday meal, I looked at the various appetizer displays set up for Super Bowl Sunday, and I was suddenly overcome by a desire for clam dip. I don’t know why. I just was.

I headed to the back of the store, to the dip section, but I was out of luck. No clam dip. For a few minutes I stood forlornly in front of the case, wishing that clam dip might somehow miraculously appear. It didn’t, of course, and as I dejectedly pushed my cart away from the dip section, I said to myself, “What is the matter with you? Why don’t you just make the darned dip? It’s bound to be much better than anything you could buy.”

Trotting right over to the canned fish aisle, I found a can of minced clams, which—lo and behold!—had a recipe for clam dip. Aside from the clams, all I needed was cream cheese, sour cream, garlic, and Worcestershire sauce. Easy, easy! I bought the ingredients I didn’t have and added an essential extra—ruffled potato chips. Somehow, nothing else quite goes with clam dip. And what could be more retro than clam dip AND ruffled potato chips? Not much, that’s for sure.

The dip and the chips were a huge success that weekend. In fact, I made two batches of the dip, and we ate every single bit, scraping the bowl with the chips to get the last smidge of dip.

In only a month, it has become one of our favorite appetizers, and last weekend, when I invited our friends Jim and Dawna Leavitt over for dinner, I made clam dip. I also had plenty of ruffled chips to go with it. Dawna and Jim were as enthusiastic about the dip as we were, and by the end of the evening it was all gone.

To complement the dip, we played music from the 1970s, the time of our youth. We listened to Carole King, James Taylor, Elton John, and Joni Mitchell. As we dipped those ruffled chips, we spoke of our children, very young when we all first met. Now, some of them are married, and Dawna and Jim have grandchildren. We all agreed how satisfying it was to have such wonderful children and to see in them a continuing of the family.

As it goes when people age, Jim and Dawna have had to deal with illness, death, and loss, just as we have. But then there are those children (and grandchildren!) to carry on, to brighten things up.

I suppose the clam dip made us all a little nostalgic, but it was nostalgia in the good sense. Not only were we looking backward, but we were also looking ahead to our children, who give us hope.

Clam Dip
Adapted from the recipe on the can of Snow’s minced clams

1 (6.5 oz) minced clams, drained. Reserve the liquid.
¼ cup of sour cream
1 (8 oz) package of cream cheese, softened
1 clove garlic, dry roasted and finely chopped
¼ teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce

Note about the garlic: Raw garlic has a bite that often leads to indigestion. To mitigate this, heat a fry pan (do not add oil) and place the unpeeled garlic in the hot pan. Flip, stir, or toss the clove from time to time. What you want are a few brown spots on the skin, but not too many. In other words, don’t burn it. Let the garlic cool a bit. Peel and chop. You will have a lovely, mellow clove of garlic, still flavorful but without the overwhelming presence so often found in raw garlic.

Beat the cream cheese, sour cream, and enough of the clam liquid so that the mixture has a smoothness and texture that you like. I use 3 Tablespoons, but this is a matter of taste. If you like a thinner dip, just add more of the clam liquid. After you have a consistency that you like, blend the clams, garlic, and Worcestershire sauce into the cream cheese and sour cream mixture. Chill.

Then, get a bag of ruffled chips. If you have orange or yellow bowls for the chips and dip, then use them. Put on Carole King or James Taylor or any other of the great singer/songwriters from the 1970s. Invite some old—I mean this literally—friends over.

Then, as you listen to King and Taylor, dip those ruffled chips. And wax nostalgic.