Tag Archives: anchovies

Baked Olive Artichoke Dip

The original recipe for this lovely hot dip came from one of the blogs I regularly read. The only change I’ve made is to spell out how I made the green olive tapenade for those of you who may not have tapenade on hand.

You definitely need to like olives in order to enjoy this, but the olive flavor also won’t punch you in the face and knock you out cold. It’s so easy to assemble, so let’s get started.

Wow–I’m not feeling very verbose today, and it’s kinda freaking me out. I normally like to chatter at least a little before stampeding on with the recipe at hand. Hmmmm.

*Searching brain for something clever and hilarious to say*

*Searching brain for something at least mildly amusing to say*

*Searching brain for any old anything to say*

Nope, I’m coming up on empty. Well, as they say, another day another dollar. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. Don’t take no wooden nickels. Lose the battle, win the war. So to speak.

Alright! I’m feeling better already.


(Serves 6)

1-14 oz can artichoke hearts (unmarinated), drained

1/2 packed fresh basil leaves, minced

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

3/4 cup chopped green anchovy-stuffed olives

1 clove garlic, minced

2 tsp capers, minced

5.2 oz Boursin (or any garlic and herb cheese)

Crackers, flatbread, or crusy bread to serve

Preheat the oven to 375 F. Give the drained artichoke hearts a rough choppity-chop.

Measure out the basil–firmly pack it in there.

Cram it . . . no, I’ve made that joke too many times already and, as they say, 3rd time’s a spanking.

Give it a nice mince.

Now if you have a green olive tapenade on hand, simply measure out 3/4 cup of that, and skip this next step. I didn’t have any tapenade around, so I assembled some anchovy-stuffed olives, capers, and garlic.

Mince the olives, capers, and garlic (or use your food processor) (then please send me your food processor).

Unwrap the beauty that is Boursin cheese.

By all means taste it. I know I did.

Mix all the ingredients together (except for the crackers, of course).

A sensible person would do this in a bowl, with a spoon.

I did it in a pie plate with my hands.

Hey! What the heck . . .

Note to self: next time, fully remove the foil packaging from the Boursin.

Press the dip into a pie plate, creating an even surface.

Lick your fingers avidly. Consider the possibility of eating it just like this, right now.

Bake for 30 minutes.

Serve with the crackers or bread.

Mmmm. I love a good hot dip.

It’s delightful, folks.

If you want a pop of fresh color, garnish it with a little extra sprinkling of basil.

And for my closing remarks . . . It takes one to know one. It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. A penny in time saves nine. And the most hideous expression of all time which despite my hatred of it doesn’t prevent me from writing it on a regular basis: don’t get your panties in a bunch.

With this dip on hand, no panties will be bunched by anyone at any time.

P.S. Thank you Lester Roadhog Moran for the page I just ripped out of your book.

P.P.S If you don’t know who Lester Roadhog Moran and the Cadillac Cowboys are, please ignore previous P.S and continue living as previously scheduled.

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