Have I adequately described my love for avocados? I'm tempted to try to write an ode or a ballad, but even though I was an English major, my aptitude for poetry is a bit sub par. I love avocados in salads, sandwiches, by themselves, guacamole, as desert - you name it. In short, I'm obsessed.
In the five and a half years I lived in California, one of my main goals was to try to incorporate avocados into every meal. I even once added avocados to a Thai green curry. Some might have said it was gross. It totally worked.
The problem with living on the East Coast is that avocados don't grow around here. When I read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle in which she talks about her family eating seasonally and locally, my first thought was that I could do that - no problem. My second thought was that I could never give up avocados (or chocolate for that matter), so no dice.
I found myself at a Farmer's Market in Ojai, California on Sunday and my first thought was that I wanted to take all the fresh, local avocados home. I even greedily ended up taking one in my purse on the plane. This morning, after my red-eye flight, I opened my purse to find that my avocado wasn't quite...let's say intact. In one of my more uncouth moments, I tried to scrape out all the edible parts of the avocado from my purse to savor my last taste of the West Coast.