Jalapeno Ranch Dip

First week of August. The week I always make a giant batch of sofrito, because it is the beginning of the stretch where fresh culantro and ají dulce are actually available at reasonable prices at the Park Street bodegas — July-August-September is the peak — and because I want the freezer loaded before the cold weather hits and before the prices jump in October.

The process: thirty heads of garlic, peeled by hand at the kitchen counter over the course of two hours on Saturday morning, with the radio on, with Eduardo in and out of the kitchen making fun of me for the amount ("Carmen, there are better things to do with a Saturday than peel garlic for two hours"), with my hands eventually smelling of garlic for three days regardless of how many lemons I rub on them. Ten bunches of culantro. Six bunches of cilantro. Six red bell peppers. Four yellow. Three onions. Two dozen ají dulce, which the bodega had fresh this week and which I bought all of, because you never leave a shipment of ají dulce on the shelf if you are a serious cook, it is the law. A can of tomato sauce. Black pepper. Oregano. A splash of olive oil. A splash of vinegar.

All of it pulsed in the food processor in batches — Luz María would be appalled; she used the pilón, but she also only made a pound at a time, and I am making eight pounds, and the food processor is a concession to scale — and then portioned into ice cube trays, frozen, popped out, bagged, labeled with Sharpie: "Sofrito 8/22." Ten bags. Forty cubes each. Four hundred cubes of sofrito. This will last me until November, comfortably, and until January if I am careful.

Mami came over Sunday while I was finishing the portioning. She sat on her stool and watched me work. She said, "Your sofrito is good. You use too much culantro." I said, "Mami, you told me to use more culantro." She said, "When?" I said, "For thirty years." She said, "I must have been wrong." I stopped what I was doing. I looked at her. She was smiling. My mother was making a joke. Luz María was making a joke about being wrong. Eighty-five years old and the humor is still in there, lucid and mischievous. I laughed so hard I almost dropped a tray of sofrito cubes. Eduardo came into the kitchen and said, "What is funny?" I said, "Your suegra." Mami said, "I am always funny." She is. She has always been. Wepa.

By Sunday evening, with forty trays labeled and stacked in the freezer and Mami still laughing about being wrong for thirty years, I did not want to cook anything elaborate — I had given the weekend to the sofrito and I had nothing left. What I wanted was something sharp and creamy to put in front of Eduardo with a bag of chips, something that took ten minutes and rewarded the kind of afternoon you spend elbow-deep in aromatics. This jalapeno ranch dip has been in my back pocket for years for exactly that reason: it honors the peppers, it requires almost nothing from you, and it is the right ending to a day that already asked everything of your hands.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min (plus 30 min chill) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 packet (1 oz) dry ranch seasoning mix
3 fresh jalapenos, seeded and finely minced (leave seeds in 1 for extra heat)
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt to taste

Instructions

Soften and combine base. In a medium bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer or sturdy fork until smooth and lump-free, about 1 minute. Add the sour cream and mayonnaise and mix until fully incorporated.
Season. Stir in the dry ranch seasoning mix, garlic, black pepper, and smoked paprika until evenly distributed throughout the base.
Add the peppers and herbs. Fold in the minced jalapenos, fresh cilantro, and lime juice. Taste and adjust salt as needed. For a spicier dip, stir in the reserved jalapeno seeds at this stage.
Chill. Transfer to a serving bowl, cover tightly, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Overnight is even better.
Serve. Remove from the refrigerator 10 minutes before serving. Garnish with a few extra cilantro leaves and a dusting of smoked paprika. Serve alongside tortilla chips, sliced vegetables, or crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Jalapeno Ranch Dip — For the Cook Who Earned a Snack After Two Hours of Peeling Garlic