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I’m not. I mean, look at it. Kind of looks disgusting. I love me some ‘cados, but:

• I can’t cut them all fancy-like

• Who has fancy plates to put them on?

• Avocados are consistently 3.5 seconds away from rotting

The bane/love of existence

Like I mentioned, I love avocados. But, on toast, they rub me to wrong way. It’s like extreme health meets extreme convenience/dumpiness (it’s okay for ME to say that, I ate the toast). The creamy, buttery texture versus the crunchy crisp of the toast is just wrong. That bland yet satisfying taste amplified by pepper and salt? Awkward meets wheat.

We, as a people, nay, as a GLOBAL COMMUNITY, always make the same promise. We promise to eat to avocados before they disintegrate. Before they get tossed in the trash. Before they are a waste of money, dammit! We feel that bubble of air between the flesh and the innards (you ava-enthusiasts know what I’m talking about) and with that, feel our souls die. But what to do? Must we try to salvage the precious fruit? Should we simply throw they away, like yesterday’s coffee cup? No, my friends.

That’s where the toast comes in.

With a lengthwise cut and a pop of the pit, you can see the evergreen of the middle. Don’t even dare to try and make it into a fancy cut. You know damn well you’re taking that spoon and grabbing whatever shit that bad boy has left in him. Success! You managed to get some innards! The gods and goddesses are smiling down on you! Toss that skin and prepare for toasting!

Whole grain bread is best. White toast? Are you the most basic bitch in the world? GET OUT OF HERE! A medium toast level is best – not black but lightly brown. Absolutely no butter (are you a monster?) but salt, pepper, and maybe a liiiiiitle bit of cayenne. Then, you have salvaged what you can of the gift from heaven. Your reward for the best salvage humanity can muster.

The avocado toast lives for me.

But guacamole will always kick its ass.