A guest is invited to CONSUME some pie

I was a bit startled but not scared when he crept into the junk pile that I refer to as my home office. I'd summoned this year's guest taster for the Pieathalon and he was willing to take on the task, even though he wanted to keep a low profile. I was also not surprised that he gazed at me through a pair of sunglasses, even though the "office" has light-blocking curtains and most of the bulbs in the overhead light have burned out and I'm too lazy to replace them.

"You-- You're okay," he said. Then as his eyes adjusted and he realized he was surrounded by stacks and stacks of books, horror-movie-themed toys, and Halloween decorations, he seemed to soften a bit. "Looks like they really got to you, though." 

I chuckled ruefully and explained the premise of the meeting. "Look, Wednesday's the Pieathalon. A bunch of bloggers who love old recipes send old pie recipes to Yinzerella of Dinner Is Served 1972, who sends us each someone else's recipe to bake and post about. I can't post pictures of my own reactions to the pie. I'm a teacher and my students already know I'm a weirdo. Can't post additional evidence of just how weird I am in case somebody stumbles across this thing, so I ask special guests to taste the assigned pie instead, and I use the post right before the Pieathalon to tease the upcoming pie post and the guest taster's identity. Don't worry-- by the time I post this, you will have moved on. They already know who you are anyway. You can use my platform to spread your message if you'll help me tease the Pieathalon today and appear in the pie post this Wednesday."

"That's quite a bit of exposition, there."

"Yeah, I know. I always give either too much or too little! So what recipe do you want me to post to tease your identity as my special guest taster?"

He glanced around. "You got any cookbooks from 1957?"

"I suppose I do, but you're seriously overestimating my organizational skills if you think I can find one before the 100th annual Pieathalon in 2114."

He looked at the nearest bookpile and picked Woman's Home Companion Cook Book (edited by Dorothy Cook) off the top. He checked the  title page and muttered, "This is from 1955. Close enough."

I was impressed. He handed it to me and said, "Find a cheese dip." Then he slunk off into the alley.

I searched the index, the appetizer chapter, and the cheese chapter. There was nothing titled cheese dip, but in the spirit of "close enough," I thought some of the cheese spreads could easily be thinned enough to use as dips.

Alternatively, Welsh Rabbit is thin enough to pour, so you could easily use it as a dip instead.

Okay, that's a TON of clues as to the identity of my special guest. Maybe you can figure it out. The big reveal of the guest and the pie will be Wednesday!

P.S.- I don't usually include any hints about the pie I submitted, but you might be interested to know that I sent in one of the worst recipes I've ever found in my 10+ years of writing this blog. It was so bad that Yinzerella uncharacteristically sent a response to the submission, declaring it "absolutely foul." I, being the type of person who always assumes I've just done something wrong, sent an apologetic email and a backup recipe that sounded unusual but much more palatable and crossed my fingers, hoping that I wouldn't be exiled from the group forever for sending in a weapons-grade terrible recipe. I should have realized that Yinzerella's sense of humor is not so different from my own, though. She was not angry. Perhaps in awe? That originally-submitted terrible pie is getting made. I just hope that whoever gets the recipe survives the experience and that their spouse, roommate(s), and/or child(ren) don't move out because of the smell.