Soccer fans visiting the U.S. for World Cup matches seem to be delighted by American friendliness and dazzled by the way our highways roll from skyscrapers into wide-open spaces, abounding with monster trucks, big-box stores, “Big Gulp” drinks, central air conditioning, and ranch dressing.

Elsa Thora, a visitor from Sweden, wrote in what’s become a widely quoted post on X, “EUROPE WE NEED RANCH ASAP.” Hidden Valley had already hired six “Ranchbassadors” this summer to spread the “sauce-pel” on the other side of the Atlantic.

Then World Cup soccer brought more than a million international fans to the heart of ranch country. The TSA cautioned on Instagram, “If you’re visiting for a very large sporting event & you happen to discover RANCH while you’re here… please pack it in your CHECKED BAG on the way home.”

I am not a fan of ranch dressing. I think it tastes like creamy, curdled pillow stuffing. But I am outnumbered. In 2024, ranch eclipsed ketchup to become the nation’s top-selling condiment.

The food industry research firm Datassential says 75% of Americans like or love ranch dressing. These days, it’s hard to imagine 75% of Americans agreeing they like puppies.

As it happens, ranch dressing has a distinctly American creation story. In 1949, a Nebraska plumbing contractor named Steve Henson was working in Anchorage, Alaska and concocted a salad dressing out of buttermilk, mayonnaise, and herbs to help feed his crew on remote job sites.

A few years later, Henson and his wife bought a California dude ranch, which they called the Hidden Valley Ranch, and served the dressing at their restaurant. Guests loved it. Then Henson started selling packets of his seasoning mix by mail. The dude ranch went under. But ranch flavor was just getting started.

Today, hundreds of companies produce “ranch-style” dressings and dips, and “ranch” flavor has been infused into popcorn, taco shells, ice cream, and even a lip balm that sold out in hours. You can have a ranch fountain at your wedding or bat mitzvah! Glub-glub-glub.

Maybe World Cup visitors’ passion for America’s favorite condiment has reawakened some national pride here. Steve Henson didn’t need to be a Michelin-starred chef or culinary scientist to change people’s tastes. He was a journeyman plumbing contractor, giving a treat to friends. And now, much of the world.