I have a secret that isn’t so secret. I’m infatuated with avocado toast.
Yeah, right. Right? Like everybody else on the planet right now, I’m obsessed. Oh wait – is that a bandwagon going by? All aboard! Choo choo!
Or if not obsessed, I’m at least in love. Or if not in love, I’m at least in infatuation… That sentence doesn’t sound right. Never matter – you get the point: I have an avocado toast infatuation. And you probably do too.
I may not truly love it the same way I love my family, or my boyfriend or my friends but I’m definitely in a state of being carried away by an unreasoned passion. Like I am with my boyfriend or bourbon or … ahem… Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
No big deal.
I literally crave the stuff. In fact, I’m considering putting you aside right now, standing up and having a tryst in the kitchen as we speak. With rye bread and avocado.
Here’s the thing about avocado toast though… Yes, there’s a thing. As there is with any social phenomena, such as the avocado toast has become.
It doesn’t exactly require a Le Cordon Bleu certificate to make. Or a recipe for that matter.
I’m simply loving it so much, I just wanted to share it with you. Because if you can’t talk about who, err, what you’re lusting after with your friends, who can you talk about it with?
…Am I right? Tell me I’m not alone.
All you’ll need is bread of some kind (preferably something sturdy to hold up to the weight of the fatty fruit), ripe avocado and whatever you want to season it with.
The challenge of course, is finding a ripe avocado.
There’s a trick to finding a perfectly ripe one. I don’t know where I learned this but it’s never failed me; I obviously picked it up somewhere. Select an avocado that’s pleasantly plump, not too hard and still has the little tip intact. Pull it off. If the avocado is green underneath, it’s ripe! If it’s brown, it’s over-ripe. Put it back and choose another.
…This sounds like bad sex talk.
I guess it’s kind of like fishing. Or dating. Or uh, picking out an avocado. Okay, this is getting rambly. I think I’m hungry.
Other things I’m currently harbouring an unbridled lust for (warning – there may or may not be links to a crap ton if Instagram photos below):
- Eggs on top of things. Mostly vegetables. But if an egg wants to plank on the top of the fridge or the liquor cabinet, I won’t complain.
- Making stock from scratch.
- The Dirty Dancing soundtrack. Always. No link here. It just warranted saying.
- My new Day Designer! It’s so pretty, I almost don’t want to write anything in it.
- Citrus. Obviously.
- Greek yogurt. With fruit. Or cinnamon. Or nuts (hehe, nuts).
- Coffee. Mainline that shit.
- New food photography props.
- Fuzzy pink slippers and gin. Yes, I am my Grandmother.
- Reading material. I avoided magazines for years. They’ve re-emerged in life with a vengeance. Die Hard style, yo.
- Early morning running. Except I don’t run. But I do walk really, really fast.
Love. Infatuation. Lust. It all comes from the same place – a deep need inside to be filled. With Avocado toast.
- 4 Slices of rye bread.
- 2 Small avocados.
- 1 Lime for juice.
- Couple of pinches of red pepper flakes.
- Coarse sea salt & fresh cracked black pepper.
- 4 1/2 " slices of Haloumi Saganaki or Feta cheese.
- To serve sprouts or pea shoots.
- Place a pan over medium-high heat on the stove with a Tbsp or two of olive oil.
- As it heats, toast your bread. You can also smursh up the avocado, lime juice, salt and pepper in a bowl. Taste. Add more if necessary.
- When the pan is hot and the oil is glistening (but not smoking) , toss in the haloumi or saganaki and pan fry till golden, approx 2-3 minutes. If using feta, there's no need to fuss with the stove.
- Spread the avocado mixture on toasted bread, top with pepper flakes and cheese. Push down to secure. Finish with a few sprouts or shoots.
What are you infatuated with? Have you experienced the awe that is avocado toast? Who, err, what are you lusting after lately? Spill it below.