By September arrived and the city shifted the way it does at the first Tuesday after Labor Day—slightly more purposeful, the summer looseness replaced by something organized. Liam doesn't know it's September. He knows that mornings have gotten cooler and that there's something different about the light and that the flannel shirt I put him in on Tuesday was interesting to grab. He grabbed it for forty-five minutes on the drive to my mother's.
Back on the floor after the long weekend and Ray, my construction worker patient, has had a rough week. The treatment cycle has hit a wall and we're having conversations about next steps that I've had before and that don't get easier. Ray handles it with the practical directness of someone who has worked with physical reality his whole life—he wants the information, he wants it straight, he doesn't want soft edges around it. I give him what he asks for. He appreciates it. I appreciate that he appreciates it.
I cook in September the way I cook in no other month—with a urgency about using the last summer produce before the fall takes over. Tomatoes and eggplant and peppers while they're still real, before we're back to the stored version of things. I made ratatouille on Sunday, the slow kind where everything cooks separately and then comes together, and it took three hours and tasted like the last good argument for summer. Sean ate it over polenta. We ate dinner late, after Liam was asleep, at nine o'clock with candles because neither of us wanted to turn the overhead light on, and it felt like the apartment itself wanted the last good evening of the season.
That Sunday ratatouille took three hours and fed something I can’t fully name—the need to use the peppers while they’re still real, before the season closes the door on them. This roasted red pepper dip came from the same impulse, same week, a simpler version of that urgency: just the peppers, the heat, and what they become when you let them. It’s the kind of thing you make when you want summer to linger a little longer on the table.
Roasted Red Pepper Dip
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 4 large red bell peppers
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
- 1/2 cup cream cheese, softened
- 1/4 cup sour cream
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Roast the peppers and garlic. Preheat oven to 425°F. Place whole red peppers and unpeeled garlic cloves on a foil-lined baking sheet. Drizzle peppers with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Roast for 20–25 minutes, turning peppers once halfway through, until skins are blistered and charred in spots. Remove garlic after 15 minutes if it softens first.
- Steam and peel. Transfer roasted peppers to a bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap or a plate. Let steam for 10 minutes. Peel away and discard the skins, then remove stems and seeds. Squeeze garlic cloves from their skins.
- Blend. Add peeled peppers, roasted garlic, cream cheese, sour cream, remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, smoked paprika, cumin, salt, pepper, and lemon juice to a food processor or blender. Process until smooth and creamy, about 1 minute. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Chill or serve. Transfer to a serving bowl. Serve immediately at room temperature, or refrigerate for up to 3 days. Before serving, drizzle with a little olive oil and scatter chopped parsley over the top.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 160mg