The recipe was simple enough. I had this flawless “Slimcado” from the Fresh Market. I’d never heard of Slimcado before. I just grabbed a ripe looking avocado, but according to the label on the skin, the Florida Slimcado has less fat and calories than the California avocado. Who knew?
I sliced it, pitted it, peeled it and made it into respectable looking fries. I dusted it with the breadcrumb and salt & pepper mixture, dredged it through some egg yolk, and threw it back into the crumbs before tossing it into the oil. They came out a nice crisp-ity, crunch-ity golden brown. Seriously, I could have taken the picture above, that’s how true to form it looked.
So we sat down to lunch, Craig, the girls and I. Coever took one look and said, “Uh. . .no.” Morgan was more adventurous, but after one bite declared, “I kind of like it and I kind of don’t. More like don’t.”
Well, at least she tried it. Craig and I ate a few pieces, which were quite nice, but it seemed like every second or third piece had a weird, bitter aftertaste. At first, I thought it was just the pieces that I had been eating. Maybe my palate had been compromised after having lunched on peppery chicken wings and overly dressed salad. Too many flavor combinations had sullied my ability to detect the freshness of the Slimcado.
Nope, not really . When lunch was over, Craig and I were cleaning up. My hand hovered over the “fries” and we exchanged a glance. “Did some of yours taste. . .”
“Bitter,” he finished for me. Okay, then. I may have to follow-up with blogger who posted this to get to the bottom of the bitter. Maybe my cooking temp was too high? Maybe my Slimcado was overripe? Maybe my breadcrumbs weren’t seasoned well enough? Maybe it doesn’t really matter. I doubt I’ll be trying it again any time soon.
It’s too bad, really. I mean, you can fry an Oreo/Twinkie/pickle and they all taste good. Oh, Slimcado, perhaps that’s your way of telling us to leave you in your natural, green creamy goodness. . .
with a side of chips and some margaritas, of course.