Chomp!

 

By Ron Aiken

 

 

Guacamole! Monkey Spit?

A LONG, LONG time ago, back when AOL snail-mailed CD-ROMs to your house in an effort to promote the Internet and getting an actual email from someone was a legit thrill, Chomp! worked as a minion of Satan insurance agent for Evil, Inc. State Farm.

One one of the employees there in the small, Irmo-based office had a spouse who disliked guacamole. As a lifelong lover of guacamole, I found this incredible – though later experience was to teach me he has lots of company – but still, his dislike seemed irrational.

“He won’t touch the stuff,” she told me. “He says, ‘I ain’t eatin’ that monkey spit!’

Now, Chomp! Is no expert on monkey spit, but I don’t think it would taste like guacamole or be served at a Mexican restaurant. I think in his brain – and this man also worked in the insurance business – he conflated ‘guacamole’ with ‘guano,’ substituted “monkey” for “bat” and “spit” for, something else. It’s the closest I can come to understanding this poor man’s mind, because otherwise, primate saliva and avacados with lime have precious little in common, other than perhaps moisture.

But enough of that fool! Guacamole – real, hand-made guacamole, not the scooped stuff – is fantastic, as I know YOU know, because I like to believe that people who do not like guacamole are not strong readers. Kids under 6, for instance, and insurance agents.

Over the past couple of weeks while traveling around the country I’ve had the good fortune to come across two great examples of some meta-guac. The first was at a restaurant in Dupont Circle in Washington, D.C., called Mission. It was absolutely sensational, from the view from the patio to the food itself.

 

Here’s the view from the outdoor seating area. We waited an hour to get a table outside, but it was well worth it!

 

In the picture you’ll notice, besides the lady at the other table eying Chomp! suspiciously, the guacamole on the table in the traditional molcajete, which is a mortar and pestle fashioned from volcanic rock. It was ridiculously heavy and, of course, wonderful both in function and presentation.

The guacamole was made in-house fresh every day and, when done with such care and quality of ingredients, is an experience I encourage you to seek out. My fiancee enjoyed it as well, even more so than her jalapeno-pineapple margarita (pictured below):

 

Great idea, poor-ish execution.

 

I can say for Mission that if you’re in Washington or Dupont Circle, BY ALL MEANS GO. I ordered something as simple as the fajita trio (a reasonably priced $15), and got this:

 

These were, without fear of reprisals, the best fajitas I’ve ever had.

 

But we’re talking about guacamole here, so let’s not lose ourselves slobbering over those huge, succulent, spicy shrimp. At least any more than we’re already doing. They were SO juicy!

Two weeks later, Chomp! found (and finds, since I’m still here) himself in the decidedly less-cosmopolitan hamburg of Pelham, Alabama. Located about two-and-a-half feet from the hotel is a restaurant called 2 Pesos, and I also can’t recommend it enough if you’re ever called upon to attend an event in Birmingham (if, like Chomp!, you cover the SEC, you’ll be here about three times a year).

Here’s their special, hand-cut guacamole, which was worth the $7 appetizer price it fetches.

 

An interesting presentation, with lots of cilantro on top and a lime to squeeze.

 

It was SUPER CHUNKY and delicious, though my companion, to my dismay, said he’s never wanted to eat guacamole because it looked too much like grass. The cilantro on top did nothing for my case, I’m afraid.

The other thing I’ll say about 2 Pesos is that finally, a Mexican restaurant properly fried my chimichanga. I ask for this everywhere I go, but for some reason Mexican restaurants in Columbia are afraid to introduce a chimichanga to a deep-fryer for more than three seconds, even when I specifically ask for them to nukify it. The whole point is you want the outside crispy; otherwise, it’s just a stupid burrito.

Here’s what they did, and let it be a lesson to the Monterrey’s and San Jose’s of the Columbia market:

 

Soo-purb! Golden brown! Delicious!

 

Chomp! Would love to hear about where in Columbia you get the best guacamole and chimichangas, so please, PLEASE, write me at [email protected] and let’s talk about this, OK? OK! See ya next week!