Ranch Cookies Exist—And They Are a Shock to Your Tastebuds

Yes, you read that right. Ranch, the salad dressing that's become a favored dip or drizzle for pizzas, chicken tenders and wings, is getting a sweet twist, courtesy of the cookie company. The treats start with a classic sugar cookie foundation, which is mixed with crushed potato chips, then swirled with a thick layer of ranch-flavored buttercream frosting and dried parsley bits.

Sold in a pack of 12 individually wrapped treats for $30—or solo, with a card for $8—the cookies seem designed to be brought to birthdays and dinner parties, easily becoming the world's fastest icebreaker—and talk of the night. Who doesn't have an opinion on ranch-flavored foods? Who's bold enough to try it? Who judges a dessert by its wrapper?

That alone can help you eschew the awkwardness of less savory conversations while acting as a de facto personality test, offering even more insight than asking someone their astrological sign or Meyers-Briggs type.

Summoning both my love of cookies and ranch dressing, as well as the ol' "don't knock it 'til you try it" adage, I opened a box and sampled them for myself. And had everyone around me try them too.

"They're as if you were hanging out at a party and the host only put out sour cream and onion dip and sugar cookies, and you were so hungry you thought to yourself, 'well, that dip's gotta be used for something,' and you just went for it," my husband assessed. (He's also the type to never turn down a dare for a new food to try or strange combination to sample.)

And honestly, that's about right. The cookie smells very subtly of potato chips, and it melts your brain as you take a bite: The herbaceous ranch flavoring gives off a strong sour cream and onion dip vibe, and as you chew, it slowly gives way to a sweetness. Yet the whole time, the texture is exactly that of a pillowy, chewy, frosted cookie—like Cheryl's typical buttercream-topped arsenal. (You get the occasional crunch from the bits of chips, but it's very minimal.)

The texture and flavor feel completely at odds with each other, as your brain tries to process what's going on, but as the sweetness takes hold, the worlds start to collide. But it still doesn't make sense.