Cannoli Dip -- The Sweet That Held the Week Together

Mid-August, the pre-school-start scramble in full effect. Set the Table at New Birth Saturday morning. Six girls. We did baked chicken.

Daddy in his apartment in the back. I brought him his coffee and his medication this morning. He grumbled. The grumble was the love. Marcus, 21, studying for finals at Alabama.

Banana pudding Friday. Nilla wafers. Custard from scratch — none of that boxed nonsense.

Jasmine, 19, home from Howard for the weekend. Isaiah, 18, called from Charlotte — coaching season starting.

The week held. The kitchen held. We are still here.

Tuesday evening I sat at the kitchen table with my composition notebook and worked on the cookbook. From Brenda's Kitchen — that's the working title. I cannot write the introduction without crying yet.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

I drove to the Walmart on Camp Creek Saturday morning. The kind of grocery run that takes two hours because you run into three people you know. Sister Patrice caught me in the produce. We talked about her grandbaby for fifteen minutes.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

Saturday morning I had Set the Table at the Cascade Heights center. Twelve young women. We did baked chicken. One of them — Imani, sixteen — was so afraid of seasoning that she barely shook the salt. I stood next to her and put my hand over hers and said, baby, you cannot be afraid of food. We seasoned the chicken. The chicken came out right. She glowed.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

I mentioned the banana pudding — Nilla wafers, custard from scratch — and that was a Friday labor of love. But sometimes after a week like this one, where I’ve seasoned chicken beside a sixteen-year-old who needed her hand steadied, dropped cornbread at a hospital door, and stood at Brenda’s grave with magnolias, I want something sweet that doesn’t ask much of me in return. This cannoli dip is that thing: rich and creamy, no oven required, the kind of dessert you set out and let people come to. The kitchen held all week. This is how it rests.

Cannoli Dip

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups whole-milk ricotta cheese
• 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• 3/4 cup mini chocolate chips, divided
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• Waffle cone pieces, graham crackers, or pizzelle cookies, for serving

Instructions

1. Drain the ricotta. Place the ricotta in a fine mesh strainer or cheesecloth over a bowl and let it drain for at least 5 minutes to remove excess moisture. This keeps your dip from going thin on you.
2. Beat the cream cheese. In a large mixing bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer on medium speed until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. No lumps allowed.
3. Add the ricotta and sugar. Mix the drained ricotta into the cream cheese until fully combined. Add the sifted powdered sugar gradually, beating on low so it doesn’t cloud up on you, then increase to medium until smooth.
4. Season it right. Add the vanilla extract, almond extract, and cinnamon. Mix until just incorporated. Taste it — this is the moment. Adjust sweetness if needed.
5. Fold in the chips. Using a rubber spatula, fold in 1/2 cup of the mini chocolate chips by hand. Save the remaining 1/4 cup for the top.
6. Chill and serve. Transfer the dip to a serving bowl, scatter the reserved chocolate chips over the top, and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes before serving. Serve alongside waffle cone pieces, graham crackers, or pizzelle cookies.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 140mg