With the Superbowl here 'n' all, there are some things we've all learned to expect. An extraordinary and appalling rise in domestic violence, really great 60-second commercials, such as the famous 1984 Apple Computers commercial that changed the commercial world--and the world. And a bevy (you gotta love the opportunity to use the word "bevy") of good ol' all-American snack foods, guacamole, having been naturalized in this country after we adopted it from our brothers to the south, chief among them. I happen to think that my World Famous Award-Winning Guacamole recipe is the best there is, so I'm posting it for you here, with two amendments. In the recipe, I added the minced red jalapeño peppers, and while they don't do any harm to the guacamole, as tomatoes most definitely do, they don't add much, or anything--except color. I don't know what I was thinking. All I can say is that it was a competition, and I must have been, to use a tennis expression, pressing. Adding little minced red ...

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I am moving today, and therefor have no time for much of anything other than pace around the house thinking of all the things I have to do, but I felt I had to touch down here, to gloat, errr.... write about my guacamole victory at the First Annual Competitive Guac-Off on Saturday. I wish I could go into the long version—about how, not liking the look of my avocados at six that morning, I called a farmer (JJ's Lone Daughter Ranch) and had her put aside some ripe avocados for my mom to pick up at the Santa Monica market when they opened at eight; or the molcajete—loaned to me by John Sedlar of the wonderful Rivera Restaurant for the purpose of this competition—that crashed in on itself minutes before competition, and how I came through anyway with a trophy bottle of Casa Noble Reposada Tequila (suddenly I have so many "friends"). For now, all I can do is show you some pictures, stolen some might say unethically, from The Foodinista. In the wake of my win, I was too busy with interviews ...

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Turns out everyone wants to be invited to the Foodinsta's Guac-Off this Saturday. My next-door neighbor, Nick, was over yesterday, grabbing food, which is what my neighbors do because I am always trying to get rid of food, and people--especially single men people--seem to like that. Nick is from Saint Louis, his folks own an old school Italian restaurant there, so we are used to talking pesto and piccata. Yesterday, however, he caught me polishing my molcajete (something I've been doing a lot of lately). He had never seen such a thing. "I guess it's like a mortar, right?" he said, looking at it like some strange sort of beast. "It is a mortar!" I told him. I explained that its name came from the verb "moler," meaning "to grind," which is the base of the word MOLE, and also guaca-mole. I don't speak Nuhuatl, so really I was talking smack, but I think there might be some truth to what I was saying. "Will you teach me how to make guacamole?" he said with uncharacteristic humility. I to ...

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This is a stolen photograph of a molcajete just like the one I purchased. If I get sued, I'm moving to Mexico, which might be the best thing anyway. The Foodinista and I, both being, essentially, big talkers and guacamole-making novices, have each found ourselves facing an impending Guac-Off, with molcajetes, and no real idea what to do with them. Both of our molcajetes were sold to us as "pre-seasoned," but I found out the relative nature of this term when I made my first batch of guacamole in this primitive mortar—extremely tasty (if I do say so myself), but unmistakably, errr... sandy.  As I posted in a comment on the Foodinista blog, I got in a fight with some poor guy on the other end of the phone at Sur La Table yesterday over the exact definition of "pre-seasoned." "You must have a lot going on," he said (and I wanted to strangle him), implying that no sane and healthy human being could get as worked up as I was over a bit of finely ground black lava in her guacamole. Ye ...

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