Basic, Bang Up Blue Cheese Dressing

Author Notes

For the longest time, I thought I didn't like blue cheese dressing. I'd had too many disappointing versions, often served alongside Buffalo Wings. Those ones hit you in the face with an overpowering funk of cheese, and a consistency that could only be described as weirdly plastic. Then I was introduced to the Iceberg Wedge; the perfect balance of crunch, fat and cool, bold with a proper blue cheese dressing, and the recipe was forever redeemed.

Blue cheese dressing can, and should be, brash yet still refined. Gutsy with cheese, bright with vinegar, mollified with a hint of sweetness that’s bolstered by the richness of the mayonnaise and sour cream. It should have body without unnecessary weight.

I've said it elsewhere before, but I think it can be repeated: as silly as it sounds, blue cheese dressing is an art more than a science. There are variables to consider and balance, ones that can't be pinned down to hard and fast rules: the pungency and the moisture of the cheese, the astringency of the particular vinegar, the consistency of the sour cream and buttermilk. As such, the quantities here should be viewed only as guidelines to steer you in the right direction.

It is best to consider the intended use for the dressing when tweaking both the texture and seasoning. Also, I don’t recommend adding the hot sauce until use, if you're using it, or the dressing will turn pink. It’s not a tragedy, but not a look I’m fond of and, what’s more, letting the heat perforate the richness of the dressing keeps things especially interesting.

I’ve taken to making thicker blue cheese dressings to slather on grilled steak. As a condiment, the fat adds even more oomph to the meat, and the cheese has more than enough personality to stand up to some char. Made well, it’s undeniably good with crispy chicken wings, too. A moderately luxe version is just the thing for those beloved chunks of iceberg lettuce, and I make a light, velvety rendition to drape wedges of juicy peach, or to dress arugula tossed with fresh corn off the cob. —Tara O'Brady