Avocados. Tomatoes. Onions.
Best. Idea. Ever. Created. Food. Wise.
I, like the rest of the world, love guacamole. The Aztecs were on to something when they created it. And thank god it didn’t disappear with the Aztecs.
During my undergrad up in Boston, one of my best college buddies and I went on a let’s make guacamole spree. Every weekend for what seemed like a month, he would make guacamole and ask me what I thought of it since I was the guacamole expert (in other words, I’m from Texas, which makes me an expert). Every weekend, he would ruin it by putting too much lime juice in it.
Usually I buy guacamole because I never feel like putting the effort into it. However, lately, my husband hate every brand I bring home.
I decided it was time to start making my own guacamole.
You will notice an absence of lime juice. I literally had flashbacks of my college years and decided against using lime juice.
1/2 a tomato, diced
1/2 cup onion, diced
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 California avocado, peeled and deseeded
1 teaspoon salt
Put all the ingredients into a medium bowl.
Take off your rings cuz you’re about to get dirty. with. avocado on your hands. That’s right, we are going to hand mash that green buttery awesomeness. Squish it in between those fingers. Watch it ooze.
As you mash and mash and mash and mash, mix the ingredients together.
Makes 2 cups. Calories: 282, Carbohydrates: 22 grams, Sugar: 5 grams, Fiber: 12 grams, Protein: 4 grams.
This recipe is a base recipe. You want a bit of heat, add a jalapeno. The absence of lime juice means the avocado will brown quicker when kept out. I would eat it immediately after making it. There’s nothing better than fresh just made 5 seconds ago guacamole.
I have one major rule about avocadoes. ONLY use those ugly black bumpy crappy little California or Mexican avocadoes. Those are guacamole avocadoes. DO NOT USE the huge smooth green skin butter amazing avocadoes from South America, Florida, or Puerto Rico.
Mumika and I were talking about the amazingness that is a Puerto Rican avocado and my sister inlaw asked me if you could use them in guacamole.
“Oh hell no!” we replied glaring in dismay at her.
You add a little salt and you take a spoon to it. Or you slice it and put it between two slices of white bread and thank the gods for the invention of avocado sandwiches. Americans are ruined with that California bullshit that is called an avocado. When I let Bryan try the goodness that is a Puerto Rican avocado, he claimed it tasted weird. And then he compared it to a watermelon. I was all, if you have a problem with the taste of a real avocado I will happily eat your half (we have a rule – I get half, he gets half. If it wasn’t for that rule I would totally eat a whole avocado). He moved away from me and meekly ate the rest of his avocado.
“That’s what I thought” I told him.
And now you have been schooled on the difference between avocadoes.
Yeah, I have an avocado fetish. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I used to go to High school with nothing but a knife and an avocado for lunch. People knew better than to mess with on those days. They also knew better than to ask me for a bite.