Jell-O salad, orange-colored cheese loaves rolled in nuts, mini-Swedish meatballs: There ought to be a marble vault somewhere for the party foods of yesteryear, where we could lay them safely to rest for all eternity.

Instead, they walk among the undead, haunting our soirees. It’s like a classic horror movie — just when you think they are safely buried, they reach out from the darkness of a buffet table and grab you. Time hasn’t improved them, even if they do make their reappearances clothed in ghostly nostalgia and ironic hipness.

I went to a party recently and was confronted by that oozing and deadly warm dip made from artichoke hearts, vast amounts of mayonnaise and grated parmesan cheese. Once upon a time, I adored it — at least until I found out the ingredients and noticed the oil pooling up in the pan. I thought the cholesterol- and calorie-counters had hounded it off the menu 20 years ago, but there it was, in all its retro glory.

I was tempted, but when I tasted it I found it wasn’t as sinfully delicious as I remembered. American food has gotten so much worldlier and more sophisticated in the past few decades that these old standbys don’t hold up to the competition.

And yet, they keep rising from the grave.

We need to exorcise them. It’s time to lay the gloppy foods of the past to rest and fully embrace the brave new world of fresh and authentic flavors.

R.I.P. onion dip; that beige substance made from dried onion soup and sour cream. I once served it at every party, along with potato chips or the ubiquitous plate of raw vegetables I grandly called “crudités.” (What was I thinking?) I’ve mended my ways, and sightings elsewhere have become rarer. I won’t mourn if it leaves us forever.

A moment of silence for it, and also for the once-ubiquitous hollowed out loaves of bread filled with spinach/cream cheese dip. With the current spinach scare, that one seems in no danger of returning, but if you should encounter it, please do the world a favor and convince it to walk into the light.

Are there any clams in clam dip? I think we should drive a stake through the heart of it and all dips made by stirring something indistinct and mildly flavorful into a thick dairy product.

And while we’re at it, let’s ban swaddling, too. Bacon wrapped around anything never cooks properly. And in a horrifying story, the New York Times recently announced that “pigs in a blanket” — mini-sausages wrapped in biscuit dough — were making a comeback. Let’s let sleeping hot dogs lie.

They say these ghastly relics of the cold war era are reappearing because uncertain times have sent us searching for comfort foods.

I say, that’s what ice cream and chocolate are for. When the world is feeling scary, there’s nothing like curling up at home in front of the fireplace with a hot fudge sundae.

Parties, on the other hand, are for getting out in the world, and bringing diverse people together, where they can talk and make friends and share. Kind of like America.

These extraordinary times call for extraordinary courage. My fellow Americans, we must be strong in this war on terror. No more cringing in a corner, hiding from the dip — it’s time for a counter-offensive. We must kill off plastic cheeses, bury seasoning packets and fire-bomb those old recipe clippings. Instead of being haunted by the past, it’s time to celebrate modern life and all its glorious flavors.

At my next party I pledge to serve nothing but fresh, contemporary, American food.

Guacamole, hummus, baba ganoush, chicken sate with peanut sauce, spring rolls, sushi, bruschetta, dolmas, tapenade and salsa.

Is this a great country, or what?

Some of my favorite recipes are the ones born of desperation, where I pull together oddments out of the refrigerator and pantry. When I came up with this one, I was running late and didn’t have time to go to the store before a friend stopped by for a glass of wine. What I did have were some gorgeous dead-ripe heirloom tomatoes that had to be eaten that day, and a few cabinet staples — enough to inspire an elegant Italian-style appetizer. Please note, no onion soup mix was injured in the making of this dish.

White Bean Crostini with Tomato Confetti

Ingredients:

Crostini:

• 1 French-style baguette, sliced into 1/4 inch rounds



• extra-virgin olive oil

White bean paste:

• 1 can (15 oz.) white cannelini beans, drained



• 1 garlic clove



• 1 Tbsp. chopped fresh basil (or 3 squares of the frozen kind from Trader Joe’s)



• 1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil



• zest of one lemon (optional)



• 1/4 tsp. salt



• pepper to taste

Tomatoes:

• 3-4 small heirloom tomatoes in various colors, chopped in 1/4 inch dice



• 1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil



• 1 tsp. (just a splash) sherry vinegar



• 1 garlic clove, minced



• 1 tsp. chopped fresh basil (omit if you only have the frozen kind)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 F. Brush both sides of the baguette slices with olive oil and arrange them in a single layer on a baking sheet. Toast in the oven until lightly browned, about 8-10 minutes.

In a blender, puree the beans, garlic clove, olive oil, lemon zest and basil until smooth, add salt and pepper to taste.

Place the chopped tomatoes in a bowl. Drain the juice off and save it for another dish. Add the minced garlic, oil, vinegar and fresh basil to the tomatoes; toss together and season to taste with salt and pepper.

To serve, spread a dollop of the bean paste on the crostini and top with a spoonful of the tomato mixture.

Note: you can also skip the crostini and just add about a cup of the whole white beans to the tomato mixture along with a little extra salt, olive oil and vinegar, and make a killer salad. For that, though, I recommend fresh-cooked beans.

Napa writer Betty Teller is a serious foodie who tries not to take food too seriously. She can be reached at amuse-bouche@sbcglobal.net.