If someone releases another ranch pot…

Can we all agree to leave the ranch discourse in 2026?

We already did it. We built an entire exhibition around Slim Chickens’ Big Ranch Pot. White walls. Gallery lighting. The works. We treated a dipping sauce like it was the next Banksy.

And somehow… it made complete sense.

For what it’s worth, our protagonist was actually allergic to ranch. Now that’s commitment to the bit. Spending your day celebrating a sauce you physically can’t enjoy deserves some sort of industry award.

Now every other brand seems to think the answer is another ranch pot.

Respectfully, we’re alright.

This is Britain. We’re a ketchup nation. Mayo gets a pass. Garlic mayo if you’re feeling adventurous. We’d even hear out salad cream before pretending ranch is the cultural reset it’s being marketed as.

Our American friends can absolutely keep it.

The point was never the ranch anyway.

The reason the campaign worked wasn’t because people suddenly became obsessed with buttermilk dressing. It worked because we committed to a crazy idea so hard that people couldn’t ignore it. We didn’t sell sauce. We sold the joke.
There’s a lesson in that somewhere.

The internet rarely rewards brands for copying the format. It rewards the first brand that commits to something ridiculous enough that everyone wants to be in on it.

The ranch pot wasn’t the hero. The absurdity was.

So if you’re about to launch The Bigger Ranch Pot…
Maybe don’t.

Find your own weird hill to die on. Ours just happened to be covered in ranch.

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