GUACAMOLE AND PICTURE TOAST

JUNE RECIPE OF THE MONTH
With thanks to Lulu Wayward

Guacamole and picture toast. Sure, you can just cut open an avocado and spread it on a bit of toast - there’s nothing wrong with that. And while I do believe I should be able to draw a salary simply for getting out of bed in the morning, that doesn’t mean I’m lazy. No no no. But by laying claim to being a creative genius, I’ve put myself in the situation where I must, every now and then, do something creative. So in this month’s recipe, I am going to combine finger-painted toast with avocados and cilantro to create something exquisitely and vaguely Mexican.

PREPARATION TIME
It’s not the Sistine Chapel. It’s toast and dip. 10 minutes.

INGREDIENTS
Serves 2
A few slices of raw toast
2 large Haas avocados
2-3 tomatoes, depending on size
Half a large red onion
Cilantro, cumin, chili and lime juice to taste
Extra wedges of lime and salt
Oh, and a smidgen of garlic

RECOMMENDED WINE
Tequila. It's Mexican for 'wine'.

METHOD
Put Beck's 'Guero' on the stereo, take the middles out of the tomatoes and dice finely. Then close the Facebook window of your browser. Let’s face it - you’ll not get anywhere with this recipe with Facebook running. Part of the reason why I have become so utterly bone idle lately when it comes to blogging is…well, you know the reason. And why should fiddling about with tomatoes be any different? Or avocados? I’ll just get the pips out of those avocados when something either interesting or uninteresting will happen on Facebook. It’s the same with trying to write while at work…for example, Miss Wayward’s chat window will open up, with the words “I’m bored.”

And then the guacamole will go out the window. Or the front page of the paper will be put on the backburner.

Either way, it spells devastation in the kitchen.

“I might do some work...or I might make a necklace out of paperclips and pretend to read something relevant,” Lulu muses. “Choices, choices.”

While she may seem angelic, I have the devil’s own time concentrating once she starts talking about paperclip jewellery. Or goats. Concentrate. Think about the stuff they put in cartons of apple juice. Concentrate. Once you manage to get the pips out of the avocados, don’t toss them in the bin. Put them aside for later, after the washing up, and then rub them lovingly in your hands. My friend Sarah Toa swears by it. The oil in the avocados will work wonders on your skin.

“I accidentally went out with those Canadian chefs last night,” the Lulu window informs. “We were talking about goats and stuff.”

Fuck the goats, concentrate. The task at hand. Spoon out the luscious avocado, and combine it with the finely chopped onion and garlic in a large bowl. Mash it up with a fork. Do not, under any circumstances, use a blender. If you use a blender, the ghosts of one million Mexican mamas from times past will come and haunt the shit out of you. I have this on good authority.

Now, add the cilantro, cumin, chilli and lime juice to taste. If, like me, you have no idea what cilantro is, use coriander. Now for the exquisitely creative part.

Before you put the toast in the toaster, wet your finger under the tap and draw a little pattern on the bread. You could try a Mexican sombrero. Or i guess the eyebrows of Frida Kahlo would be easy, though you might have to employ your middle finger to get the required thickness. Use your imagination. Draw something Mexican. Try a nice pastoral scene of a drug lord shooting up a border town.

Now although I’ve claimed that I was going to do something creative, by now you will have realised that this was an outright lie. In my defense, I must point out that I don’t own a toaster in Cambodia, nor is there one in the office. So these samples of picture toast were simply culled, à la most blogs of note, directly from the Internet. But that's no excuse for you not to make your own. And while i realise retro video games have very little to do with guacamole, fuck it. Life is full of surreal juxtapositions.

“Turned up at an important meeting with some Korean businessmen today, unknowingly still wearing my paperclip jewellery,” Lulu says. “Realised halfway through. Still, one must persevere in maintaining the illusion of sophistication, innit.”

Spread the dip on the toast and away you go. Use the extra wedges of lime and salt to down the tequila. And close that fucking Facebook window.