I’m no snack prophet. I’m not trying to turn water into wine, I just like this ritual of snacking and sipping in tandem. And I like you, because you like dips, chips and drinks. That’s why you’re here, right? So, pull up a pew (or stool, or floor cushion) and let’s hang.

We’re not at a wine bar with all the etiquette and arancini. We’re at home, and constricting denim is optional. It is looser, lazier and louder. Plus, you can lick your fingers with even more abandon. We’re happy to be here. To all the tubs of hummus, bunches of grapes and charcuterie boards: I see you and I appreciate you. Thing is, I just need some more fireworks…

Here, it’s more about dressing up tater tots and rethinking dips, and less about all the bowls, utensils and faff. Because washing up sucks (especially the morning after), and the only thing we want to suck is… olives. Many, many juicy olives.

From now on, when I say ‘snack’, I’m referring to your own independently constructed mouthfuls. We’re not labouring over canapés, stacking things onto skewers, or acrobatically balancing little bits on bigger bits. This is the definition of DIY: grab a fork or use your fingers (personal preference) to pile and arrange your own damn cracker. Keep napkins and tea towels close by; any wiping materials will be well received.

Each recipe comes with a drink pairing proposal. For the record, these are not sommelier-grade recs, they’re more drink-meets-food-meets-yeah-I’d-enjoy-those-together thoughts. See these drinks as an opportunity to broaden and flex your bar cart. A quick web search will provide the drinks recipes, if you need. But feel free to go your own way with this. You’re an adult, so pick your own battles, bottles and alcohol content, if any. There’s a glass (or can) for everyone to hold.

In terms of commitment, I’m not sure where you sit on the scale, but here there are no mixed messages. Just pick your time-commitment category:

• Quickie
• Minor investment
• Go the distance