I like to think that my lifelong love of chips and dip started in the backyard of my grandmother’s Torrance house in the ‘80s with a wooden bowl, a tub of sour cream and a blue box of Lipton onion soup mix. I’d spend most summer days in that backyard, lounging on a beach towel in the shade of my grandmother’s giant, aboveground pool. She would always saunter out of the house wearing something fabulous — a kaftan from the ‘60s over a one-piece bathing suit — holding a wooden bowl of onion dip and a larger wooden bowl of chips.

The dip, magically whipped up in two steps and made by following the directions on the box, has been a fixture at family gatherings ever since. If we’re sitting down to watch the U.S. Open, the Lakers, the Seahawks (my dad will follow Pete Carroll wherever he goes) and of course, the Super Bowl. There’s something comforting in the bits of dehydrated onion and the sometimes swirls of salty, almost-real-onion flavor that result when someone has been a little lazy in mixing in the onion powder that day. When I once tried to make a version from scratch, with actual caramelized onions, there was an all out chip and dip revolt. So we go back to the original, every time, and I can’t imagine a Super Bowl party, or any Harris party, without it.

From the story: What we’re bringing to this year’s Super Bowl party

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