Ok. So today in the kitchen I was joined by my idiot sister. Actually, she is more Julia Child than idiot. Me, I’m like Quasimodo. I am all thumbs and have little concern for making the “pretty” with my food.
If you want to eat it, don’t play with it.
We were out to eat yesterday and tried the newfangled gimmick where the server makes the guacamole fresh at the table. It was infinitely better than the blended spoon-shaped glob usually served in a bowl at chain restaurants. Plus, we got to control how much of each ingredient went into the mix: I’m all about the tangy lime; Little Sister wants the spicy melt-your-brain experience.
So of course we went right out and got all the stuff to make wonderful guacamole for today. Yummy with the avocado!
And then we proceeded to argue like cats in a bag about how to go about making a fun recipe of our own. It’s ok. We’re professionals.
We decided to go the Italian route. Or maybe it’s just Mediterranean. Who cares what you want to label it–we’re allowed in the kitchen with sharp knives.
We sliced and diced. Well, Little Sister went Ginsu on the chilies and onions. She burned the snot out of herself when she forgot that hot pepper juice is not friendly to any facial orifice. So there was much hopping up and down, crying, and laughter.
I handled the less hazardous slicing of the bread, dousing of the olive oil, and spreading of the cheese. I then tossed it into the oven and watched Little Sister make a mess.
Here’s what it looked like in the end before we stuffed our faces.
The quick and the messy:
1. 3 avocados (aka Alligator Pear)
2. up to a cup of diced tomato
3. 1/4 to 1/2 big fat white onion the size of small baby
4. 4 de-fanged Serrano chilies (no seeds)
5. 1 fist of cilantro
6. salt/pepper to taste
7. as much lime as you can get away with
Mash the hell out of the avocado and other veggies with a pastry cutter in a large bowl. Please make sure your bowl is big enough to accommodate the sludge you are making. Taller is better.
1 French baguette not stale enough to kill the chef
a bag of shredded cheese of your preference
Slice up the bread in thin little slices and paste with olive oil. [Don’t skimp on your olive oil, people! Get the good stuff here.]
Toss on your cheese.
Ovenate on broil–take care to not turn the bread to dust.
Chuck the cheesy toast on a pretty plate, pile on the green goo, and make with the pretties like Little Sister. It shall feed you and whomever you might wish to jealousify. You can tell them you learned how to do all this from two idiots.
If I was French, I might say Bon Apetit! But I’m not. So stuff your gullet while you got it.