What has happened to the large Hass avocados that we all know and love and make into our favorite guacamole dish? One of the main reasons for the shrinking sized fruits is the low winter rainfall, cool weather, and the dwindling bee activity. Did you know that the avocados spend more than a full year developing on a tree?
Trader Joe’s avocados-5 to a bag
In California, and elsewhere, the markets are selling avocados the size of a small peach, some weighing less than 3 oz. I was in Trader Joe’s the other day, and bought a bag of 5 small avocados nestled together like tiny lemons.
lemons the size of tiny avocados
avocado the size of a peach
avocado the size of a small teapot
three avocados in a row
- 6 avocados ( soft, but not mushy)
- 2 -4 garlic cloves, minced ( depends on how much you like garlic)
- 1 lime, cut in half
- 1 medium tomato, diced
- 1/2 medium onion, diced
- chopped cilantro (optional)
- 1 diced jalapeno peppers (optional) or 1 diced serrano pepper (optional)
- Cut avocados in half, remove pit, and spoon avocado into a mixing bowl.
- Add minced garlic and squeeze the juice from one-half of the lime into the bowl of avocado.
- Mash the ingredients together to desired consistency using the back of a large spoon or a potato masher (some like the avocado chunky, some like it smoother).
- Fold in diced tomato and diced onion, a couple pinches of salt, and the juice from the remaining lime half (Also add cilantro or peppers at this time).
- Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30-45 minutes.
- Uncover and taste.
- Add salt as needed.
- If you don’t give the resulting guacamole at least 4 stars, then you ain’t making it right.
- NOTE: The purpose of the lime is to allow any leftover guacamole to retain its “avocado” color as it sits in the fridge.
“This is a true Tex-Mex recipe concocted by a distant relative stationed at the Alamo nearly 160 years ago. According to family lore, he was out looking for some good tomatoes when Santa Ana attacked the now famous Texas landmark. Luckily, our relative kept this recipe in the lining of his coon-skin cap, and both he and his avocado dip lived to fight another day. Years later, near death from an infected Chihuahua bite, he looked deep into his son’s eyes, and with his last breath, uttered the familiar phrase “remember the…guacamole.””