Fifteen Tubs, One Bag: The Friday-Night Dip Shakedown
Photo: supermarket dip tubs with ready salted crisps blind tasting table UK snack, via arbuckless.weebly.com
Blind tastings are humbling. You think you know your favourite dip. Then someone peels the labels off, hands you a spoon, and you realise you have been buying the same watery tub for years out of pure habit. We bought 15 chilled dips from UK supermarkets, opened one bag of ready salted crisps, and got stuck in. Same crisps for every tub. Same hour. No labels. No loyalty.
We scored each dip out of 10 for flavour, texture, value, and crisp-holding. That last one matters more than people admit. A dip that waters out or collapses the crisp is not a dip. It is a punishment. Total scores are out of 40.
How we scored
Flavour had to taste of something real, not salt and regret. Texture had to be thick enough to cling to a crisp without snapping it. Value was judged on price per tub and how far it went. Crisp-holding was the brutal one: dip a ready salted crisp, hold it for three seconds, and see whether it stayed upright or flopped over like a wet leaf. We used spoons between dips. We are not animals.
The scoreboard
| Dip | Flavour | Texture | Value | Crisp-holding | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Sour cream and chive | 9 | 9 | 8 | 9 | 35 |
| Classic houmous | 8 | 8 | 8 | 7 | 31 |
| Caramelised onion houmous | 8 | 8 | 7 | 7 | 30 |
| Red pepper houmous | 7 | 8 | 7 | 6 | 28 |
| Tzatziki | 8 | 6 | 8 | 4 | 26 |
| Cheese and chive | 7 | 7 | 6 | 6 | 26 |
| Sweet chilli and sour cream | 7 | 6 | 7 | 5 | 25 |
| Taramasalata | 7 | 6 | 7 | 4 | 24 |
| Guacamole | 7 | 6 | 6 | 5 | 24 |
| Baba ganoush | 6 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 24 |
| Mushroom pate | 6 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 24 |
| Onion and garlic | 7 | 5 | 7 | 4 | 23 |
| Spinach and yogurt | 6 | 6 | 6 | 4 | 22 |
| Mexican cheese | 6 | 6 | 5 | 3 | 20 |
| Salsa | 5 | 3 | 6 | 2 | 16 |
What the winner got right
The sour cream and chive was the only tub that felt like it had been seasoned by someone who actually tasted it. It was thick, tangy, and savoury, with enough chive to register but not so much that it tasted like a lawn. It held a crisp at a jaunty angle without snapping it. It also passed the value test: around £1.60 for a tub that did not disappear after six crisps. This is the one for Friday night. Buy two.
The classic houmous was the surprise package. Smooth, lemony, and properly garlicked, it made the crisps taste like a deliberate snack rather than a desperate one. The caramelised onion version was sweeter and a bit more grown-up, but the plain one was better value.
The bag-ruiner
The salsa was a disaster. It looked promising in the tub, then pooled a little watery ring around the edge before we had even opened the crisps. One dip and the crisp went limp in my hand. That is not a salsa problem. That is a structural failure. If you are buying salsa for crisps, tip the tub slightly. If liquid sloshes, walk away.
The tzatziki was close to a bag-ruiner too. The flavour was fresh and cucumbery, but it was loose and drippy. It is better with flatbread or carrot sticks than with a ready salted crisp. The Mexican cheese dip was salty enough to be a health warning, and the spinach and yogurt was fine but forgettable.
The Friday-night verdict
Buy the sour cream and chive. Buy the classic houmous. Consider the cheese and chive if you are feeding a crowd. Leave the salsa on the shelf. The bag of ready salted crisps is a beautiful thing, and it deserves a dip that can keep up. A watery tub is not a bargain. It is a soggy crisp waiting to happen.
