The Second-Best Guacamole Ever

Just so you know, on Saturday I made the second-best guacamole I’ve ever made.

It was a delightful surprise. Avocados were on sale at Food Lion, so I got four of them. The first one I cut open was just gorgeous. Not too soft, not too hard–just right. It was one of those one-in-a-million avocados where the whole thing is just perfect–no bad spots at all. It was at just the right stage of ripeness. The peeling came off easily, and both halves fell away with no resistance from the seed in the middle. Yet even at this point I didn’t realize the potential I was dealing with in this particular avocado.

After adding all the ingredients, which I won’t disclose in such a public forum as this, I took a bite just to see if anything more needed to be added. I was totally unprepared for the amazing taste experience I was about to have. Suddenly this joyful emotion welled up within me. I wanted to share it with someone, but Carolyn detests guacamole (she calls it “yuckamole”). But my frustration at being unable to share the experience was unable to dampen my delight. It was everything guacamole was intended to be. This rare avocado had perfectly fulfilled its purpose for existence.

I wasn’t even that hungry, but I ate a whole plate of nachos just to have something to eat the guacamole on.

Sorry you all had to miss it. Guacamole like that comes around as often as a comet.

In case you’re wondering, the reason this was the second-best guacamole I’ve made was because in 1994 I made some that was perfect. Not just great. Perfect. It still brings tears to my eyes and saliva to my taste buds to think about it.