Forget the Super Bowl, this weekend we found QUESO DIP.

What I wore: Shoes, Keds. Jeans, Gap. Shirt, Old Navy (it's Ryan's...because sometimes my closet just
doesn't seem expansive enough). Necklace, Forever 21. 

This weekend I did a photo session with a sweet (and very leaky, I might add) baby,

watched 25983 hours of Suits and went to a Superbowl party, but

ALL OF THAT PALES IN COMPARISON TO WHAT I DID SUNDAY NIGHT.

We found it. Queso dip. In California. 

You may recall that California's lack of queso dip

(a melty, gooey, delectable white cheese dip found in virtually

every single Mexican restaurant all across the good ol' Midwest)

was perhaps the greatest flaw I could find with our new home when we moved last January.

For awhile, we went from one Mexican joint to the next desperately seeking our

beloved queso dip but we were unsuccessful everywhere we went.

And no one seemed to know what the heck we were talking about.

Finally, we accepted the fact that West coast Mexican food was just different.

A land without queso.

But then, months after we'd given up the search, Ryan heard one of his coworkers

mention an appetizer she'd ordered at a Mexican restaurant in El Segundo.

He was skeptical, but he grilled her with questions about the color, consistency and

ingredients in said dip (queso dip is serious business!) and all signs seemed to point to 

what we thought was impossible. So, we had to investigate ourselves.

And my ravenous belly after the Superbowl on Sunday

(vegetarians always lose when meat eaters plan the party menu) gave us

the perfect excuse to stop at Cozymel's on our way home. 

Lo and behold, it was queso dip! The real deal. 

I could have cried tears of sweet joy (but that would have been super awkward 

in the middle of the restaurant). Now that we've finally found the queso,

California just needs to show us where they're hiding the frozen custard 

and this will officially be the greatest place of all time.