Today I made guacamole for the first time. I made it because Trader Joe's was promoting the tequila lime turkey burgers last week and they served them on whole wheat rolls with guacamole. Instead of something pre-made, which i almost never like, I got the guacamole kit from the produce section: two avacados, two tomatoes, onion, garlic, pepper, lime.
After fumbling with a fork like an ameteur who never cooks (imagine that!) I gave up and mashed the avacado with my hands. Which made Naomi jealous, so i let her do it for awhile while I ineffectively played with a big knife. Now our hands are very soft.
The veggies got chopped in this as-seen-on-tv chopper thing someone got for Josh for christmas one year. He never used it, and he left it here when he moved out, so his loss, my guacamole's gain. Because I seem to be so incopetent at dicing, and the food processor was buried under so many other unused appliances (did you know we have a bread machine? and a waffle iron??) this chopping thing was my salvation, or I would stilll be there, trying to cut the offending onions into undetecable pieces. I hate chunks. I especially hate chunks of raw onion.
I sensibly held back half of the chopped up pepper until i could guage the hotness (feeling so Food Network as I set it aside in a separate dish), and since there never seems to be enough hotness (I'm talking nasal draining hotness here. not blister-raising hotness) I ended up adding all the pepper and throwing in some chili powder with the black pepper and sea salt. Even though I'm not a big fan of guacamole in general, I liked mine enough to pick at it with a spoon and lick my lips while I finished cooking dinner. Maybe that just means it's weird guacamole. Very, very possible.
Naomi and Miriam, who loved the stuff when we had it in the store, both refused to eat it. After the requisite blustering on my part "this is not a restaurant! I am not a short order cook!" I gave them their favorite dinner: pasta with red sauce (from a jar). Sigh.
I called Jo, who would have been suitibly impressed with my domestic spree, but damn, the girl wasn't home. Or she was screening her calls? ("why is she calling me again? doesn't she remember that we already talked for AN HOUR today? My god, the MOUTH on her. Does she ever shut up?")
So my question to you is, if you make guacamole and there's no one to taste it, does it still count?