Aahh. Springtime warmth fills the house, the yard, and… oh crap—are those weeds in my garden? They weren't there yesterday, and jeez, they're already seeding!! And what the… I just bought these avocados and they were hard as rocks! Now they're on the verge of smelling like the fermenting gym clothes of my middle schooler. Emergency run to the market to buy ingredients for the culinary rescue mission we all face from time to time: "consume avocados."
Now I don't want anyone to think that I am recommending very ripe avocados for guacamole, but IMO an avocado that is even slightly past its peak really isn't that good for anything else. A perfect guac requires a perfectly ripe avocado, so what I'm presenting in this post is a sort of "make the best of the situation" scenario, and it can also be a culinary "teaching moment."
This guacamole is probably rather derivative of Rick Bayliss' work—head chef and owner of the Frontera Grill and Topolobampo restaurants in Chicago. Adri and I went there as often as we could afford to back in grad school (where we met Karen!). It's not an exact replica, and about twenty years have passed since I actually tasted guacamole from Bayliss' kitchen, so I can probably claim some tiny fraction of this "process" (not a "recipe").
There's really not much to it. Once you have the ingredients prepared you'll have all elements ready to combine. I prefer to stay faithful to ingredients that will keep the flavor of the guac within the realm of Mexican: avocado, tomato, onion, Serrano (or jalapeño) chiles, cilantro, garlic, salt, and lime.
A short bit of fork action gives you a nice, chunky guacamole.
A couple of notes. Guacamole made with this amount of fresh onion and tomato needs to be consumed right away, so when necessity strikes, cancel your other plans for dinner and make chips and guac the meal rather than the appetizer. The ideal beverage to go with a dinner based on a large volume of guacamole is (for me) a Caipirinha, Brazilian cousin to a margarita. When I shake my lime tree for guacamole ingredients, I usually get a few more limes than I need. I can't let these go to waste now, can I?
The basic ingredients are limes, cachaça (Brazilian cane liquor or "rum"), and sugar. But the real key to a great caipirinha is in the muddle. I cut pieces away from the core of three limes.
Lime seeds should not go into the caipirinha, as they are bitter—I learned this from a Brazilian bartender. Then the lime gets muddled with about three tablespoons of sugar (to taste) in the glass—I'm using the end of my rolling pin in the shot below.
Then about 3 oz. of cachaça (yes, this is for one drink!), then a good stir or a shake with lots of ice. This is a very strong drink, so I like to fill to the top of the glass with carbonated water (not too much, though) and give a little stir—enough to bring some of the flavor up to the first sip. The drink gets a lot stronger as I make my way down the glass.
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What a delicious, practical and simple double recipe. I'll be making it as soon as I have an excess of avocados and limes.
ReplyDeletegreat blog,
Saludos!