The Bite subscribers can now join the conversation — click the speech bubble icon to leave a comment or click the heart to like this post. Last week, we turned to the world of “Sherlock” for some hosting advice. This week, we’re getting a little cheesy. Let’s dive in!

For years, the cheese ball has been my quiet party superpower. Whenever I’m hosting — or even lightly conscripted into bringing “something snacky” — it’s the dish people inevitably circle back to, buttery Ritz in hand, doing that little half-apology as they go in for just one more swipe. I’ve learned not to fight it. A well-made cheese ball has gravitational pull.

No surprise: the appeal is practically baked into my DNA. 

Visits to my grandmother’s house always began in the same place: the refrigerator. Inside, like a little tableau of Midwestern abundance, lived three constants — her elbow macaroni salad freckled with red pepper and green onion; slabs of apple cake chilled so cold the white icing turned glossy; and, most importantly, her cheese ball. It was a marvel of its genre: cream cheese, sharp cheddar, a splash of Worcestershire, a spoonful of sugar, crushed pineapple, pecans. A combination that reads chaotic on paper but, in practice, hit this sweet-salty, tangy chord that made a sleeve of crackers feel like a true vehicle of grace.

That cheese ball has stayed with me all these years, not just for its flavor but for the way it quietly signaled welcome. It’s a small gesture, effortless in execution, yet unmistakably warm — the kind of thing that makes a house feel alive and a gathering intentional.

We’ve talked before here at The Bite about the quiet erosion of ambient hospitality — those small, unfussy gestures that make people feel welcomed without any performative flourish. The tiny rituals help stake out a sense of ease: a truly good, no-notes dip; a bowl of warm, spiced nuts that perfumes the whole apartment the moment the door opens. And cheese has, of course, become the modern shortcut. The board. The wedge. The baked brie doing its annual molten collapse. 

But this holiday season, I’d like to propose a gentle pivot back toward something both nostalgic and disarmingly charming: the cheese ball.

They are affordable, malleable, and undeniably fun. And while I apparently have the soul of a grandmother (per my Spotify Wrapped, which placed me at a respectable 64), these little spheres of cheese don’t have to feel entirely retro in execution.

“Cheese balls are celebratory and fun, but sometimes the flavors feel a little outdated,” Erika Kubick, author of “Cheese Magic”, told me in a recent email. I’d reached out after her recipe for a Blue Cheese Yule Log stopped me in my tracks. Like me, Kubick is from the Midwest — though she grew up more in a chips-and-dip household — and she’s always cherished the nostalgia of a well-executed cheese ball. (Her most popular recipe from her first cookbook, “Cheese, Sex, Death,” was the Everything Bagel Goat Cheese Ball, if you were wondering.)

“I wanted to take another crack at it in this book,” she said. “I thought it would be fun to tie it in with the ancient tradition of the Yule Log, which was itself a cause for celebratory gathering. I swapped the ball shape for a log, upgraded the flavors with blue cheese, cheddar, hot sauce, horseradish and chives, and coated it with a bark of bacon and chopped pecans.”

The beauty of the cheese ball is that it’s remarkably forgiving — and endlessly customizable. Follow Kubick’s lead, and treat the classic recipe as a blank canvas rather than a rigid formula.

According to Kubick, the classic cheese ball is really not far from the one I grew up on: cream cheese, cheddar and Worcestershire, rolled in chopped nuts.

“It’s a little boring on its own, but makes for a perfect blank canvas,” she said. “Use other classic foods for inspiration and punch up the flavors that way. For example, you could make a French onion soup–inspired ball by swapping cheddar for Gruyère, mixing in caramelized onions and a touch of thyme, and finishing it with a coating of crispy fried onions.”

The possibilities, really, are only limited by your imagination (and perhaps the number of crackers in your cupboard).

I’ve been tinkering in the kitchen these past few weeks and landed on two versions that feel just right. One leans sweet: cream cheese infused with raspberry jam and rolled in crushed pistachios, a little jewel of a thing. The other is unapologetically savory, studded with tangy giardiniera and cloaked in what I’ve taken to calling “edible confetti” — a joyful mix of crushed Parmesan crisps, bacon and fried shallots.

Either (or both) would make a show-stopping centerpiece the next time you host a few friends — or, honestly, a perfectly celebratory snack for one or two, eaten with zero judgment and maybe a sly little wink.

A note from Kubick: “You can make the ball about up to 3 days in advance. Don't add the outer coating until you're ready to serve, otherwise it will get soggy. I also recommend letting it temper for 30 minutes before serving so it's easier to spread.” 

Serves: 6–8

Ingredients:

Instructions:

Serves: 6–8

Ingredients:

Instructions:

Chill for at least 1 hour before serving. Perfect with crackers, crudités, or as a centerpiece for any holiday spread.

Welcome to the first installment of a new section where I’ll occasionally highlight clever and comforting ideas from readers on the topic of the week. Last week, we asked what people like to keep on hand to be ready for guests, and Marilynn Arsenau shared a truly thoughtful, practical and slightly indulgent arsenal:

"Keep a can of mixed nuts, some pickled okra or asparagus, a box of crackers and some good cheese on hand. You are ready for anything. My favorite not quite instant appetizer: some slightly toasted walnut halves, may be frozen and thawed, Medjool dates, sliced not quite thru, pits removed, replaced by the walnut halves and a sliver or 2 of good Parmesan cheese. These do have to be allowed to come to room temp, so best if your company is calling from the airport before showing up on the doorstep, but they are in fact wowsa. Good with most wines and particularly good with bourbon on the rocks. Just something I like to have on tap if possible. Also, a few good chocolates never hurt. I am particularly fond of raspberry cremes in dark chocolate."

It’s the kind of guidance that feels instantly welcoming — easy staples, a few thoughtful touches and a sprinkling of treats that turn a simple gathering into something special.

Now it’s your turn: What are your favorite easy appetizers for holiday gatherings? Comment on this issue or send me an email at [email protected]

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I obviously have a penchant for reclaiming the retro, and this tuna melt recipe is no exception. If you’ve ever found yourself longing for the diner version—the melty cheese, the tang of pickles, the home-fried comfort of it all—this take answers that craving without the booth and Formica. My Calabrian Chili Tuna Melt elevates the classic favorite just enough to feel modern and exciting: a bright, spicy tuna salad flecked with caramelized shallots and a hint of artichoke, nestled between slices of griddled sourdough and topped with gooey Fontina. Every bite hits that sweet spot between familiar and indulgent, comforting yet unapologetically bold.

Pair it with a crisp pickle and a cold beverage of your choice, and suddenly, a weekday lunch or late-night snack feels like a celebration.

Hanukkah is tiptoeing closer, and between that and this rather rude winter cold (the kind that all but begs for matzo ball soup), I pulled my well-loved copy of “Jew-Ish” by Jake Cohen off the shelf. Cohen reimagines the dishes of his Ashkenazi childhood and folds in the Persian-Iraqi influences of his husband’s family, creating a kind of joyful culinary diplomacy. The result? Aromatic saffron latkes that glow like candlelight, slow-braised short rib cholent, and sabich tucked into a bagel. 

His Hanukkah menu, in particular, leans gleefully into the frying pan. “Grease lightning!” he writes, and he means it. Come for the schmaltzy chex mix and chicken schnitzel fingers, stay for the salt-and-pepper sufganiyot. 

While this cold has me shuffling around like a Victorian invalid, I’ve also been making my way through a slow, indulgent rewatch of the (far-too-brief) HBO series “Gentleman Jack.” Set in 1832 West Yorkshire, it follows Anne Lister — landowner, heartbreaker, diarist, and an absolute force — as she sets about restoring her ancestral home, reopening her coal mines, and courting the wealthy and luminous Ann Walker. It’s swoony, smart, packed with just enough “upstairs/downstairs” intrigue, and stitched together with excellent costumes and even better performances.

Truly a perfect companion for holiday baking: whisk, pause, watch Anne stride across a moor, repeat.

A quick programming note: I’m out on vacation next week, so there won’t be a December 14th issue of “The Bite.” I’ll be back on December 21st with bells on (or perhaps a good chicken soup recipe).

— Ashlie Stevens, senior food editor