I firmly believe that everyone has one little thing that they do better than almost anyone else. It might be playing the piano. Or folding towels. It can be anything.
For me, that one thing I do better than almost anyone else is make guacomole. Husband has a cousin in Texas who might be better, but she’s a few hundred miles away.
Last night the girlfriends met at Lime, at trendy new nightspot in Nashville. It’s all open patios and cool breezes and a Caribbean sort of vibe. Upscale Caribbean, not funky. They offer all sorts of ‘tinis and the appetizers were two for one.
We started out with some guacomole and chips. Guacomole is one of those things where less is more. There are some dishes out there that require an entire grocery cart to put together. Guacomole isn’t one of them.
Unfortunately, the guac maker at Lime doesn’t agree with me. Not only does this concoction have green bell pepper in it, our server proudly told us that it had been made at 1 a.m. so the flavors would have time to “marry.”
Please, the flavors in good guacomole have no interest in marrying. In fact, they should barely know one another because guac should go from kitchen to table as soon as it’s made. In fact, if you can just stand around the kitchen counter and eat it straight from the mixing bowl, all the better.
Also, guac should not have the appearance of green French onion dip. It should be chunky. If you ever run across soupy guac, you can be sure that it was either a) made from a mix or b) stretched with sour cream.
Here’s how I make it–with a nod to the Barefoot Contessa.
4 ripe Haas (black, bumpy skin) advocados. They should give slightly when squeezed, but not be mushy.
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
2-3 T chopped purple onion (optional)
2-3 T chopped tomato (optional)
Slice advocados lenghtwise around seed. Hold the half with the seed and whack it with a sharp knife so that the knife sticks in the seed. Gently twist and remove seed. With knife, score the flesh into cubes, scoop out with large spoon.
Start adding the other ingredients remembering that it’s almost impossible to have too much lemon juice. The lemons not only add flavor, they also keep the fruit from discoloring. Don’t stir too much, it needs to stay chunky. Just add and taste.
I promise, if you like avocado, you’ll like this version.