Simple Spinach Artichoke Dip

Simple Spinach Artichoke Dip is a gluten free condiment. This recipe serves 6 and costs $2.33 per serving. One portion of this dish contains approximately 7g of protein, 19g of fat, and a total of 222 calories. Several people made this recipe, and 167 would say it hit the spot. If you have parmesan cheese, cream cheese, frozen artichoke hearts, and a few other ingredients on hand, you can make it. It is perfect for The Super Bowl. It is brought to you by Everyday Dishes. From preparation to the plate, this recipe takes roughly 40 minutes. All things considered, we decided this recipe deserves a spoonacular score of 90%. This score is super. If you like this recipe, you might also like recipes such as Mini Grilled Artichoke Hearts with Low Fat Spinach and Artichoke Dip, Simple Seafood Artichoke Dip, and Hot Stove Top Artichoke Spinach Dip & Other Dip Favorites.

Servings: 6

Preparation duration: 10 minutes

Cooking duration: 30 minutes

 

Ingredients:

8 oz baby spinach

8 oz cream cheese

1 1/2 cups artichoke hearts, frozen

1/4 tsp garlic powder

paprika, for sprinkling

1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup sour cream

Equipment:

oven

wooden spoon

sieve

frying pan

Cooking instruction summary:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and spray an 8 x 8 dish with cooking spray and set aside.Roughly chop the artichoke hearts and set aside.Rinse the spinach leaving the water clinging to the leaves. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. When hot add the wet spinach and cook until wilted, stirring often, 2-3 minutes. When the spinach is wilted, drain in a strainer. Use a wooden spoon to press as much water from the spinach as possible. When cool enough to handle, chop spinach finely, squeezing out more water if possible. Set aside.In the large skillet you wilted the spinach in, over medium heat, add cream cheese and soften. Once the cheese is soft and creamy, add spinach, artichoke hearts and the remainder of ingredients. Stir until combined. Pour mixture into prepared dish. Sprinkle with paprika and bake for 30-35 minutes until hot and bubbly.

 

Step by step:


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and spray an 8 x 8 dish with cooking spray and set aside.Roughly chop the artichoke hearts and set aside.Rinse the spinach leaving the water clinging to the leaves.

2. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. When hot add the wet spinach and cook until wilted, stirring often, 2-3 minutes. When the spinach is wilted, drain in a strainer. Use a wooden spoon to press as much water from the spinach as possible. When cool enough to handle, chop spinach finely, squeezing out more water if possible. Set aside.In the large skillet you wilted the spinach in, over medium heat, add cream cheese and soften. Once the cheese is soft and creamy, add spinach, artichoke hearts and the remainder of ingredients. Stir until combined.

3. Pour mixture into prepared dish. Sprinkle with paprika and bake for 30-35 minutes until hot and bubbly.


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
220k Calories
7g Protein
18g Total Fat
9g Carbs
26% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
220k
11%

Fat
18g
28%

  Saturated Fat
10g
64%

Carbohydrates
9g
3%

  Sugar
2g
2%

Cholesterol
54mg
18%

Sodium
362mg
16%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
7g
14%

Vitamin K
185µg
177%

Vitamin A
5329IU
107%

Folate
154µg
39%

Manganese
0.53mg
26%

Vitamin C
13mg
17%

Vitamin B2
0.27mg
16%

Calcium
161mg
16%

Fiber
3g
16%

Phosphorus
151mg
15%

Magnesium
56mg
14%

Potassium
491mg
14%

Iron
1mg
11%

Vitamin E
1mg
11%

Vitamin B6
0.2mg
10%

Vitamin B1
0.09mg
6%

Zinc
0.87mg
6%

Copper
0.11mg
6%

Vitamin B3
1mg
5%

Vitamin B5
0.49mg
5%

Selenium
3µg
4%

Vitamin B12
0.2µg
3%

Vitamin D
0.32µg
2%

covered percent of daily need
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Food Trivia

Death row inmates in Texas don't get to pick their last meal.

Food Joke

Calling in Sick... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower . "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

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