Last week, I was browsing through my social media accounts and noticed a new food trend had arrived. The dawn of an egg; baked inside of an avocado. I love avocados. I love eggs. I don't see why this shouldn't work well together, right?
I grabbed myself a desirable looking avocado and proceeded to run my knife through its alligator styled skin. Simply removing the seed with a pop and a twist that allowed me to carefully run the tip of my knife through its soft green flesh to create a precise score. I laid the avocado half onto a crumpled bed of tin foil; Applying a healthy blend of salt and pepper.
Just as I was about to crack my farm fresh egg on the cold granite counter top, I realized the egg will not fit in the empty crater that once held the seed. Armed with a spoon and a little wit, I whittled a more functional vessel for my egg. With a single blow, I cracked open the shell to reveal its sun colored yolk. The egg poured into the avocado as if they were made for one another.
As I transfered the concoction into the oven, it felt like I was balancing a glass that was filled to the brim; carefully sliding my creation into the middle of a preheated 350° to slowly manifest the culinary delight into fruition. To help curve the anxiety whilst awaiting the culmination of my work; I made a piece of tomato toast with jalapeno sheep's cheese to accompany the dish.
Finally, the whites begin to coagulate and look like all of the pictures I had seen throughout the week. The anticipation builds with every shade of the egg whites opacity. I gently nudged the side of the avocado. The whites stay in their place, but the yolk jiggled like a 1950's Jello salad. It was ready!
I pulled the piping hot tray that was carrying the Frankenstein creation out of the oven. I nicely arranged my plate while the avocado had time to cool and settle. With great excitement, I plated the rest of the dish and placed it in its rightful place.
The time has come. Engaged in a staring contest with what looks like an eye. Contemplating my line of attack. Without warning, I plunged my tomato bread into the warm gooey yolk. A mixture of yolk and egg whites cascade over the avocado onto the plate. The other hand scooping the avocado's pâté like consistency onto my yolk soaked bread. The smells of fresh basil, ripe heirloom tomatoes and avocado dancing in my nose.
Seconds after putting the mixture into my mouth, a feeling of disappointment washes over me. My brain was ignoring what my mouth was trying to say. In disbelief, I carved another spoonful out of the avocado and placed it into my mouth. It was awful. The taste and texture of the warm avocado was least to be desired. The flavor of cooked avocado becomes an unpleasant experience. A flavor profile of oily and earthy with a hint of copper. I enjoyed my tomato toast more than my egg and avocado bake. Yes, I possibly could have dressed it up and made it look better and possibly taste better. But, a pig in a wig is still a pig. Do yourself a favor and eat your avocados cold with your eggs.