“Acid wakes everything up.” A chef told me that while I was drowning a salad in bland oil, and wow, did that sting a little. This Mexican salad dressing leans into lime, cilantro, and cumin so every bite pops, and it’s shake-jar easy even on a Tuesday.
I reach for it when dinner needs speed and personality. It’s bright, a little earthy, and it clings to greens without turning them soggy. The first time I nailed the balance, my taco bowl went from fine to whoa in one drizzle.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Flavor profile
Think sunny and herbaceous with a gentle warmth. Lime juice brings snap, cilantro adds fresh green notes, and cumin lays down that toasty, street-food vibe without taking over. A tiny bit of garlic rounds it out, and good olive oil or avocado oil makes it feel silky instead of harsh.
Balance is the whole game here. Too much lime and it screams; too little and it tastes sleepy. I ride a 2:1 oil-to-acid ratio, then thin with a splash of water so it coats leaves like a pro.
Salt is the last decision, not the first. I taste on a lettuce leaf and only then add a pinch if it needs lift. Wild how often the lime and herbs do the heavy lifting and the salt can back off.
Base recipe
In a small jar, I add three tablespoons fresh lime juice, one tablespoon mild vinegar like rice or apple cider, one teaspoon Dijon, and one small grated garlic clove or a pinch of garlic powder. I whisk or shake with a tablespoon of water so the flavors dissolve before the oil shows up. Then I pour in six tablespoons avocado oil or extra-virgin olive oil and a packed two tablespoons finely chopped cilantro and shake hard for twenty seconds.
Taste on a leaf, not a spoon. If it’s too sharp, I add another tablespoon water or a teaspoon oil and shake again. If it’s dull, I squeeze in a little more lime or crack extra black pepper until it hums.
This sits right between classic vinaigrette and “fresh salsa energy.” The Dijon is here as an emulsifier, not for flavor, so the dressing stays glossy and clingy. If you hate mustard, swap a teaspoon of tahini and it behaves beautifully.
Pro tip from a past mistake. Don’t dump in ground cumin at the end and call it a day; bloom it. I whisk the cumin into the acid first so it hydrates and loses that dusty taste, and suddenly the dressing smells like you toasted it in a pan.
Mexican Salad Dressing
Equipment
- small jar with lid
- citrus juicer
- microplane or grater (for garlic)
- knife and board (for cilantro)
- measuring spoons
Ingredients
- 3 tbsp fresh lime juice
- 1 tbsp rice vinegar or apple cider vinegar
- 1 tsp Dijon mustard
- 1 clove garlic, grated (or a pinch of garlic powder)
- 1 tbsp cold water
- 6 tbsp avocado oil or extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 tbsp finely chopped cilantro, packed
- 1 pinch ground cumin
- 1 pinch black pepper
Instructions
- In a small jar, add lime juice, vinegar, Dijon mustard, grated garlic, cumin, and water. Whisk or shake to combine and let sit briefly to bloom the spices.
- Add avocado or olive oil and chopped cilantro. Seal the jar and shake vigorously for 20 seconds until emulsified and glossy.
- Taste on salad greens. Adjust with more water if too sharp, or more lime juice if it tastes flat. Add a pinch of salt only if needed.
- Store in the fridge for 1–2 weeks. Shake well before using. If oil solidifies, let sit at room temp or run jar under warm water.
Notes
- Bloom the cumin in acid before adding oil for deeper flavor.
- If too sharp, thin with water.
- Swap avocado for creamy texture or cilantro alternatives like parsley + scallion tops. Keeps 1–2 weeks refrigerated.
- Shake well before each use.
Creamy avocado option
When I want cozy texture without mayo, avocado steps in like a champ. I blend half a ripe avocado with three tablespoons lime juice, two tablespoons water, a teaspoon Dijon, a packed quarter-cup cilantro, a pinch cumin, and two tablespoons olive or avocado oil. Ten seconds with an immersion blender and it turns cloud-smooth.
Creaminess softens acidity, so I often add a final squeeze of lime at the end. If it pours like pudding, I thin with water a tablespoon at a time until it streams like light cream. Salt right at the finish and stop early, because avocado loves salt and it’s easy to overshoot.
This version clings to chopped salads and slaws like a dream. It also doubles as a quick taco sauce, which has saved dinner more than once when I over-charred the chicken. No one complained, because smoky plus creamy is basically cheating.
No-cilantro swap
If cilantro tastes soapy to you, you’re not broken; your taste buds are just wired different. I swap in flat-leaf parsley and a tablespoon of the green tops of scallions for that bright, grassy note. A leaf or two of mint sneaks in a cooling whisper that plays great with lime.
Another lane is oregano, but go easy. Dried Mexican oregano brings citrusy perfume, and a pinch in the acid wakes it up fast. I’ve also used tender celery leaves for an herby edge when the crisper was bare and, honestly, it slapped.
Culantro is fabulous if you can find it. It’s bolder than cilantro, so I mince it tiny and start with less. Same flow, same lime-first balance, same shake-jar joy.
Pairings
Chopped salads love this cilantro lime dressing. Romaine, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, black beans, corn, and a handful of crushed tortilla chips turn into a bowl that actually feels like dinner, not a side. I toss lightly first, then finish with a small fresh drizzle at the table so the aroma pops.
For taco bowls, it’s the move. Charred peppers and onions, warm rice or quinoa, and any protein—chicken, shrimp, tofu—wake right up under this cumin lime vinaigrette. I keep a spoon of Honey Dijon Salad Dressing (Plus Honey-Balsamic) on the side when I want sweet-heat contrast, and the combo is silly good.
Slaws are where it quietly shines. Shredded green cabbage, carrots, and radish stay crisp with a water-thinned vinaigrette, never gloopy. Add pepitas and a squeeze of lime right before serving, and it’s cookout-worthy without mayo.
If you’re building a big salad platter, layer flavors. Dress your greens with this, then dot a few dollops of Creamy Chipotle Salad Dressing (Smoky & Spicy) for smoky richness. It looks restaurant-fancy and tastes like you planned it all week.
Storage
The vinaigrette version keeps about one to two weeks in the fridge, easy. I write the date on the lid and thank past-me later, because mystery jars are chaos. If it separates, that’s normal—shake like you mean it and it’ll snap back glossy.
Olive oil can firm up when cold, so I set the jar on the counter for ten minutes or run it under lukewarm water. I skip the microwave since hot spots can dull the lime and split the emulsion. If anything smells off or looks fizzy, it’s out, no debate.
The creamy avocado version is fresher and shorter-lived. Three to four days is the sweet spot before the color and flavor fade, even with lime. Press plastic wrap right on the surface and seal the jar to slow browning, then stir before serving.
Notes, tweaks, and tiny wins
Water is not cheating—it’s control. A tablespoon or two lightens calories and helps the dressing cling to watery veggies instead of sliding off. When I overshoot acidity, water fixes it before oil does, which I had to learn the messy way.
Always taste on what you’re serving. Spoons lie, greens tell the truth, and you’ll tweak smarter with one bite than three guesses. If your limes are shy, add a whisper of zest to the jar and the whole thing smells like sunshine.
For the bigger framework on ratios and troubleshooting, the hub at My Guide to Salad Dressing has your back.
Conclusion
Bright, herby, and ridiculously useful—this Mexican salad dressing is my weeknight MVP. Learn the lime-first balance, bloom your cumin, and shake till it turns glossy, then riff creamy or go cilantro-free as needed. Drop your tweaks in the comments so we can all steal your best ideas, and hey, if a batch goes too sharp, a splash of water and one more squeeze of lime usually saves the day.