nothing other than that silken, sensual, simple fruit, the AVOCADO. lusciousness hardly does justice as a word to capture the buttery unctuousness of a perfectly ripened slice, dice, or chunk of avocado, as it glides over your lips, coating them with a moisturizing balm, even more emollient than wiping a slab of waxy, gluey chapstick across kiss-battered lips. (and how i love having kiss-battered lips..an inconspicuous little grazing of my tongue over shards of torn, parched lip skin and i am flooded full throttle with intensely visceral memories of our lips sensually, teasingly, tauntingly, bitingly, passionately dancing for hours on end (or so it seemed). kissing. kissing. kissing. love love love kissing.
ok, back on task, kissing reverie aside, avocado slathered lips, a salve for kiss-battered lips?
so, after a long passionate night of lip dancing, and a case of freshly kiss-battered lips, my companion and i enjoyed a late and lingering lunch, both of us independently ordering dishes prominently featuring the humble green fruit. the fact that the restaurant was Mexican, might have contributed to the abundance of avocado-themed items gracing the menu, but speaking for myself, i was delighted to have the silken fatty spread coat my tender lips, healing my skin, while nourishing my body and spirit (well, not sure i can credit the avocados for that, as that one ought to be credited to my very centered, present, and reassuring dining companion).
my companion ordered the avocado citrus salad, brimming with fruits of all sorts, with firmer textures contrasting with the creamy softness of the avocado. i didn't taste it, only watched him enjoy, so i can't comment much on the flavor of his salad, pictured below:
I am honestly not sure how delectable his salad was, but given our blissed out state, just about anything short of a cardboard box would have tasted good!As for me, my kiss-battered lips, fluttery tummy, and blissed out soul craved its fix of avocado x2. Opting for Chicken Tortialla soup (adorned with dices of the delectable green fruit) and a romaine salad tousled, like my hair, with sweet, crunchy jicama, (out of season) tomatoes, and lush, ripe, perfect, slices of heavenly avocado. the only standout amid the otherwise vapid flavors of the salad was the uber soft, pale green slices my fork made a bee-line for.
i confess that the soup was lackluster; viscous, flat and lacking the vibrant and piquant flavors and smooth texture of a really fine rendition of tortilla soup. having not a drop of mexican blood in my gringa body, i can still offer up a tastier version of the famed soup, but as i am fond of saying, 'sometimes it's just NOT ABOUT THE FOOD,' and that sunday afternoon was one of those times. the food was just there; needed sustenance.
Shockingly, for 2 foodies we never lapsed into a dialog, no less a critique of our dishes, something i can't resist 99.9% of the time. Instead, the sensual focus was interpersonal this time, rather than gastronomic. My salad, like my soup was uninspired, the dressing thin and limp, aching for a dose of cumin and a jolt of smoky chipotle, but my companion MORE than made up for what the food lacked on every relevant dimension and then some.
the highlight of my meal was the humble avocado, and the highlight of my experience was my companion, spicy, deep, and oh so soulful (and more), totally unlike our meals.
ciao for now,
jade.
