My ineptitude in the kitchen is the stuff of legend. I can ruin any meal, any time. I have only one trick – guacamole. But this is not your average guac, and I am not your average cook. So let’s take a journey together into my kitchen to make Monster Guac.
Ingredients for party-size batch:
- 4 very ripe avocados (dark and soft)
- 2 packets of guacamole seasoning (Yes, it’s cheating; but it’s convenient. If you have a “from scratch” salt & cilantro thing perfected, use it.)
- 1 can of white corn, drained (ah, I have your attention now, don’t I?)
- 1/2 – 1 can of black beans, drained and rinsed (use low sodium, it will make you feel good about your parenting choices)
- 1 jicama root, chopped (Yep, it’s a thing. You find it with the other earthy, dirty stuff in the produce section, like yams and other tubers. Pictures below.)
- A generous dousing of lime juice
- Optional: a few drops of Lime essential oil (for tastiness and general well-being)
If you’ve never cut up an avocado, it’s intimidating but rather easy. There is a large pit in the middle. Cut through as far as you can, then keeping your knife on the pit just rotate the avocado. Once you’ve connected the slice all the way around, twist to open.
To remote the pit, whack it with with a knife to lodge it in the seed; then twist the knife. The pit will pop out. Keep the pits for later. They will keep your guac from turning brown. And the kids will think it’s cool that the knife marks in the seed appear to “bleed” because they turn red.
Scoop out the guts (can you tell I’m a well-trained recipe writer?…) with a knife and/or spoon, if it’s soft enough. I have used a fancy avocado slicer. I have three of them, if you want to borrow one. The Christmas after I made up this recipe, it was a popular choice of gifts for me.
Cross-cutting in the bowl with a knife will make it easier to smoosh. Add seasoning packets. Smash to smithereens.
Readers, meet jicama. It’s hard to explain jicama in writing. It’s like a potato and an apple had a fibrous baby. I’ve heard the texture compared to a water chestnut, an apple, an Asian pear, and a radish. Triangulate the feel of those things, and you will understand why it really takes it to the next level.
I cut the top and bottom “nubbins” off (So glad to see those recipe writing courses are paying off. Thanks, mom!), mostly because they are ugly; the whole thing looks the same throughout on the inside – no core. Using a knife to remove the outer layer of skin, you end up with what looks like a peeled potato.
Now chop that sucker up. My kids love raw jicama, so I usually rescue a few slices to send for a snack the next day.
Drain white corn. Dump beans into strainer and rinse until they are no longer sudsy. Yep, I said sudsy. You’ll see. My husband uses the whole can, I prefer half. By now you can see why I call this “monster guac” and how 4 avocados are going to feed a whole party.
As the mom of a kid with Celiac Disease, our whole house is gluten free (the other 3 of us can gorge ourselves on carbs when we eat out). It’s tough to ensure a gluten-free kiddo gets enough fiber and whole grain. This recipe is chock full of both! Mom points!
Squeeze in more lime juice that you find appropriate. This is also when I personally add a few drops of lime essential oil, because that’s how I roll. Serving tip for later on – serve the guac in batches. Keep the big stash in the fridge to stay cold and fresh until the bowl on the table gets low. Spruce up the new batch with lime juice when you put it out; it seems to lose it’s “kick” over time.
Mix, mush and taste. (Not because it will be less than perfect; but because you are hungry, and it’s delicious.) We serve ours with scoop-shaped or lime-flavored chips. It’s seriously heavy by the scoopful, so you need a sturdy plate-to-mouth transport mechanism. If you saved the pits, toss them back in to keep the guac from turning brown as quickly.
You may notice that I have switched from a picture-perfect white bowl to a Christmas cookie container, even though this is a Cinco de Mayo party. That’s because my friend is still waiting on her container back from giving me Christmas cookies, and this is the only way I will remember to give it back to her. Taking home any leftover guac, however unlikely, will be like interest on the storage-ware loan. Am I embarrassed to take a snowman bowl to a springtime fiesta? Nope. The guac is the star, and my friends are just normal like me. If you are partying with people who care about bowls, you may want to reconsider your life choices.
I should warn you that once you make this guac, you will be stuck making it for every gathering for the rest of your life. You’ll learn to always have the ingredients on hand. My fridge is rarely without avocados – they keep a long time. If you need to ripen them quickly, put them in a paper bag and set them in your NOT-turned-on stove. I have no idea why this works. The seasoning and the canned goods keep, of course. So if you are ever in a pinch for a party dish, worst case scenario you can skip the jicama. If the avocados do start to turn before your next shindig, slice them up for sandwiches or hide them in your kids’ smoothies.
Author’s note from behind the scenes: I had the idea to write this post just as I started to make this for my party. I was alone at home. Trying to make this and take pictures of myself while doing so was much harder than I’d anticipated. I’m about as good with a camera as I am with a spatula. I broke a sweat. Literally. I also have a newfound appreciation for hand models. I used every shot I took. Unlike some bloggers, I didn’t take 7 shots for each and post the best pose. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take a minute before some of these to figure out how to make my hand not look like it was attached to an old lady or a sharp pei. Seriously, try it. Hold something for your own camera and try to feel good about yourself. It ain’t easy. Also, I was already running late for my party, so the mess of dishes you see in the background stayed there until the next day. No time to clean when you’re tardy for a party!