Creamy Blue Cheese Dressing

Blue cheese dressing arrived in American steakhouses sometime in the 1950s, probably borrowed from the French tradition of Roquefort vinaigrette, then democratized and made creamy for palates that wanted richness alongside that characteristic funk. It caught on because it works. The tangy buttermilk cuts through fatty proteins. The blue cheese stands up to bold flavors. By the time I was teaching cooking classes in the 1960s, no self-respecting chophouse would serve a wedge salad without it.

The commercial versions miss the point entirely. They're thin, uniform, timid. A proper blue cheese dressing should be chunky enough that you're spooning nuggets of actual cheese onto your plate. It should smell assertive, almost aggressive, when you open the jar. The buttermilk tang should wake up your palate before the cheese richness settles in.

This dressing does triple duty in my kitchen. It's the obvious choice for wedge salads and buffalo wings, but don't stop there. Thin it slightly and it becomes a marinade for grilled chicken thighs. Dollop it on baked potatoes. Serve it alongside crudités when company comes. A jar in the refrigerator transforms weeknight cooking into something worth anticipating.