Mama C’s Onion Chip Dip

When two people get married, each person brings with them the complexities and idiosyncrasies of their friends and family. The good, the bad, the OMGEEE what have I signed myself up for.

Potential pros: A vacation home with a view, that *anyone* in the family is free to use. An aunt that’s a really good criminal defense lawyer, because boo-boos happen. A cousin that’s a well-renowned chef, who also loves to invite family over to test out new recipes. Or maybe sisters who’s a fantastic hair stylist, and offers free highlights over her kitchen sink on the weekends.

My new brother-in-law Matt? He brought his mama’s chip dip. And if you think that’s insignificant – well you’ve never tried this dip.

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Mama C to the left, soon-to-be new mama-in-law (my mama!) to the right.

You guys, it’s the stuff you want to bath yourself in. The snack you want to make a triple batch of, not to share with friends or anything, but more like so you can sit on your sofa and eat it alone when nobody is looking. 

Over the past year, I’ve made an embarrassing amount of this crave-worthy concoction. Parties, get-togethers, ding-dong ditching on pregnant friends doorsteps, you name it. And since Mama C doesn’t have a blog, I’ve been given permission to do the world a favor and share the magic (with a few personal culinary tweaks).

I present to you:

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Screen Shot 2014 06 11 at 5.19.51 PM Mama Cs Onion Chip Dip
Mama C's Onion Chip Dip
Serves 4
The best darn homemade chip dip you'll ever eat.
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Prep Time
15 min
Total Time
15 min
Prep Time
15 min
Total Time
15 min
  1. 1/8 tsp. Ground black pepper
  2. 1 tsp. Salt
  3. 1/4 cup Evaporated Milk
  4. 1/3 cup Miracle Whip salad dressing
  5. 8 oz. Cream cheese (at room temperature)
  6. 1 tsp. Grated onion pulp
  1. Mix together all ingredients on high with an electric blender until smooth.
  2. Consume immediately or refrigerate.
DesignHER Momma

*I grate my onion on this microplane Mama Cs Onion Chip Dip. It gives the onion the perfect “pulp” texture.
* If onion flavor is too strong, add a bit more salt.

Serve with your favorite potato chip or just shove it in your face with a spoon. This is a safe place, no judging.

But it’s you I like.

I’m the oldest for four girls. It’s goes me, Jayme, Jenna and Betsy. There’s like eight years (or something) between us.

Last weekend, my baby sister Betsy got married at my parents house on possibly the most gorgeous day West Michigan could have offered up. In fact, I think Tim Allen is voicing himself into a wedding version of a Pure Michigan ad right now, featuring Betsy and Matt’s day.

They got married on my parents property, specifically in front of the neighbor’s amazing old barn. A place I remember playing in and around my entire childhood. Never in a million years could I imagine it could clean up as well as it did.

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All four of the kids were involve-ish.

At the last minute baby Paul refused to walk down the isle, flopping on the grass like a angry drunk.

Gage the “rain barrel” ring-bearer also refused to walk, until 30 seconds before his turn (as in, most bridesmaids were already on the move towards the barn) when he got the bright idea to blackmail me hardcore like the criminal he’s turning into.

Him: Mommy I’ll only do it if I can have a Sprite.

Me (panicking): sure buddy, you can have a Sprite. Just smile real big and hold the little pillow in front of you with both hands.

Him: Mommy I want two Sprites, one for each hand. I’ll only walk for two Sprites.


Him: Mommy I want alllllllllll the Sprites. Every single one of them.

Me: (starting to get really pissed at this point):  FINE YOU LITTLE TURD! YOU GET ALL THE SPRITES. JUST GOOOOOO.

Later that night, my sister-in-law Susan, who bless her heart for helping with the kids that evening, mentioned she found countless half empty Sprite bottles throughout her minivan.

Piper and Nola were involved too, reading a short little poem. Listening to Nola’s little high voice speak these simple and true words *might* have made water come out of my eyes, even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

14396858262 21ee3d93e2 z But its you I like.

It’s you I like,
It’s not the things you wear,
It’s not the way you do your hair
But it’s you I like
The way you are right now,
The way down deep inside you
Not the things that hide you,
Not your toys
They’re just beside you.

But it’s you I like
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you’ll remember
Even when you’re feeling blue
That it’s you I like,
It’s you yourself
It’s you.
It’s you I like.

~Written by Fred Rogers, 1971

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The day wrapped up with a cocktail reception in the barn – complete with a 3-piece folk band, a trolly ride to the bride and grooms (and my) favorite brewery, a few more toasts that made me cry again (thanks Jenna), dinner and dancing over looking the beautiful city of Grand Rapids, and an unexpected selfie with my favorite Spartan.

You know it’s going to be a good night of dancing, when the party kicks of with the MSU fight song…

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Betsy, I gotta come clean here. The first time I met Matt, I was guarded and unsure about him. He smiled so much. He was beyond sweet to you, and even helped mom get dinner on the table. He played with my kids like he actually wanted to spend time with them.

Who was this guy? Was he for real? Did he really want to spend his rare Saturday nights off work eating takeout pizza with our family?

I found out quickly he was for real. He really was that nice, that kind, that loving and considerate. Matt is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met, and you really did hit the jackpot – not that I’m surprised.

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You guys deserve each other, poor fashion sense and all. I mean, look at his sunglasses.

Congrats hobos, I’m beyond excited for the two of you!

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