“Sheep Dip” conjures up beauty parlor images for me. Thinking swanky, shiny curls amassed around a lipsticked face.
Dip is such a cute word.
Been thinking dips due to Dan and his post Dip It Good.
It’s about time Philippe’s was acknowledged at the Lunch Encounter. Genuflection.
Photo courtesy The Gingerbread Girl
Made one foray, nearly two decades behind me now, to Philippe the Original with my bike boxed and train-bound. The original home of the French Dip is across from the gorgeous Union Station in LA. If you are gonna ride, carve out an hour avant departure for a sandwich. Philippe’s held us for day one of a three-day railride.
In Milwaukee recently, I found a certified Dip. Sanctioned. By me. I followed in the meaty footsteps of hoards. At Benji’s. It’s the old Meat-N-Three, French-Dip-mathwise. Beef + Bread, Horseradish and Jeu.
The Lunch Encounter 
Pingback: Pecking Order | The Lunch Encounter