Which is derived from the Spanish word aguacate.
Which comes from the Nahuatl (Aztec) word ahuacatl.
Which was used to make ahuaca-molli, avocado sauce.
And from there, you finally get to dip into the guacamole.
Avocados were a staple in my house when I was growing up. There were always avocados on our table. Sometimes there was even guacamole.
My mother didn’t need to mash them up for my father to eat them. She would merely slice them up and serve them as a side dish with his enchiladas, or whatever else was on for dinner.
When she did make guacamole, she made her own salsa. Chopping and dicing, and then grinding the ingredients in her molcajete (Nahuatl mulcazitl), a stone mortar and pestle. I watched her closely to make sure she didn’t add too many piquin chiles, which she conveniently picked from the bush that grew right outside our kitchen door. Those colorful pea-sized peppers packed a great punch and transformed whatever food they were added to into a four-alarm fire in your mouth.
I steered clear, but it didn’t seem to bother my dad. I guess it’s an acquired taste that I never acquired. And though I acquired the knowledge to make my own salsa, I didn’t inherit the need to.
Store-bought mild salsa works fine if I choose to mash up the avocado in a ceramic bowl with a spoon. You see, my molcajete only serves to hold my aguacates. It’s not used to make guacamole or even to serve it as some Mexican restaurants do. It’s mainly an artifact, a period piece in my kitchen that I have a sentimental attachment to because it reminds me of my heritage.
When I can’t think of what to have for lunch, I end up grabbing an avocado. It’s rich, buttery taste is scrumptious in a rolled up, warm corn tortilla. Avocado enchilada or avocado taco? Who cares, it’s nutritious and delicioso.
Some recipes you might find worth trying. I think I will try the second one.
Enjoy your guac!