Ever since the snake slithered into the Garden of Eden, wriggled out on a tree branch and offered Eve a crisp, red apple, we’ve been tempted by beautiful food and seduced by the exotic. And if the food is a glorious green–cool, creamy and unctuous in its snug bell-shaped case…and if it’s exotic, an immigrant from another land…and if it’s loaded with healthy properties, then it’s food for the gods. That’s an apt description of the avocado.
I once owned a house with a huge backyard, canopied by two spreading avocado trees. Each tree produced around 200 pounds of luscious fruit every year. My family, neighbors and friends indulged in an avocado fiesta, and although we gorged on what seemed like tons of fruit, some still fell to the ground. Our German Shepherds thought those avocados were the best food ever and would lie waiting under the trees to snatch them as they hit the ground. As the avocado season progressed, the dogs’ coats grew lush and glossy their eyes clear and their breath sweet.
Thanks to my avocado trees, a beekeeping neighbor shared multiple jars of honey with us. His bees loved the avocado blossoms and filled hives with avocado honey. We eat more than a billion pounds of avocados year in the United States. On Cinco de Mayo alone, folks eat 50 million avocados, and guacamole reigns as food queen.
I awakened last May 5, after sleeping with my windows wide open, to the heavenly aroma of dicing onions and fresh-squeezed lime juice and listened to the clicky click of avocado clipping all over the neighborhood. I hurried to my kitchen and spied the pyramid of avocados waiting on the table.
I brewed coffee and began a batch of guacamole like I learned to make when I lived in Cuernavaca, Mexico. The recipe is simple and classic, the one my Mexican-American neighbors prepare all the time. It’s my favorite breakfast, rolled in a warm corn tortilla or, if I have breakfast guests, heaped on scrambled eggs.
–By Juddi Morris, Gainesville, Tx.blog comments powered by Disqus