It’s still morning here in Jackson Hole, where I’m drinking coffee and trolling the blogosphere. Joe went for a crazy early morning hike and fell and isn’t too wretchedly injured, but IS in an unsociable mood, which is totally fine with me because I’m very much enjoying a little time with just myself, my coffee and my computer. Boys … they think we need always constant attention, don’t they? Listen up. We like you. Truly. But no.
Anyway, one of the problems of being in love with cooking (besides the expense and the challenges of carting my favorite All Clad pans and Shun knives across the country in Benji) is that you have only two options: one, you have to eat everything you cook or two, you have to have someone to cook for who will eat what you cook. Sometimes I (Four Hour Body; not too excited about it; we’ll get to that later) can’t eat what I cook and have no one to cook for, or at least no one who can or will eat what I cook. And so rather than cook, I browse. This is how I happened this lovely morning onto a marvelous cooking blog, A Cozy Kitchen, and this recipe for avocado fries.
This is the story: Angie, Molly and I met for dinner one night. After six seconds with the menu, Angie yelped, “We’ll start with avocado fries!” at the waiter before he’d actually reached our table or spoken to us. She likes avocado. Later in the evening she inadvertently winked at the same waiter. It was a good night for both eating and laughing, and this is how I know she’ll adore this recipe. Angie, let us know how it goes, will you?
Hello Goodbye 
O.M.G.
1. Chris and I ate at On the Border Friday night and I ate the whole avocado fries appetizer by myself. That kind of sucked. But they were OUTSTANDING. I just don’t know how you can go wrong with avocado AND fried!
2. Today we ate lunch at Cheesecake Factory and I got (you guessed it) the avocado eggrolls and announced to Chris that avocado is my perfect food and I don’t know that I could ever live without them. Along with tomatoes. And mozzarella. And red cabbage. And salad. And… Wait a minute…I think I might be a rabbit.
3. And then I read this post and knew that I am definitely NOT sending mixed messages about how I feel about avocados. Although I might be sending mixed messages to that poor waiter. Who I now make a point of winking at every time I eat there.
Please cook these for me when you come home. You can even borrow my kitchen. And my husband as a sous chef.