Holy Guacamole

A little late for Cinco de Mayo, we whipped up some fresh guacamole last night before dinner. And I had flashbacks to when The Dad worked over on the West Side of St. Paul in an hispanic neighborhood flooded with Mexican restaurants.

Six months of his year (or what felt like that) was dedicated to the planning of a huge Cinco de Mayo festival. In 2004, E's duedate coincided with the festival. The Dad kept telling her (through my belly) that she needed to hang on just a little longer. She obliged and was 6 days late, born the week after when things had calmed down and he could take time off. She used to be so cooperative!

He worked there for almost six years and totally exhausted any love he had of Mexican food before. Three years later, he can finally appreciate it again.

Last night, we broke open the three perfectly ripe avacados on the counter, mashed them with half a sweet onion, 2 tomatoes, and a little sea salt. And voila! The best guac I have had in a very long time. Gone almost before dinner was even on the table.

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