From farm staple to foodie extravagance, avocado toast is both simple and gourmet.
Writers responded to the tasty prompt, and what follows is a collection of perspectives in 99-word stories arranged like literary anthropology.
Those published at Carrot Ranch are The Congress of Rough Writers.
PART I (10-minute read)
Avocado, The Conundrum by Geoff Le Pard
‘What is that?’
‘Breakfast.’
‘You’re going to eat it?’
‘It’s a superfood.’
‘Is that like saying something is super good when normal people say very…?’
‘And when you say ‘normal’ people you mean people like you?’
‘Your point?’
‘You hate change.’
‘I do not. I use hand cream. I’ve even trimmed my ear hairs. My old dad would never have done either.’
‘He like avocado.’
‘No he didn’t. Is that what that is?’
‘On organic sourdough toast with tahini shrooms and…’
‘My dad never ate avocado.’
‘Yes he did. With his fish supper…’
‘Morgan, they were mushy peas…’
‘Ah!’
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Avocado on Toast by Anita Dawes
Who decided we could eat such a thing?
I cannot think of anything worse to put in my mouth
Now that is a lie. I could probably write a long list
Of things that should never go near anyone’s mouth
Avocado, in my mind, must have been planted by aliens
As some kind of April Fool’s joke
Like lambs to the slaughter, humans went for it
Chefs charge a fortune, look at me I have five stars
This is what you get, soap on toast
A nightmare on a rope
My tip, don’t eat the stuff…
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The Grinch by Ruchira Khanna
“What is that green thingie on my toast?” I inquired with flared nostrils.
“Oh! Sweetie, that’s avocado. It’s supposed to be very healthy for you.” Mom said in a gentle voice as she got busy with the cleanup.
“I just want my PB&J sandwich.” I moaned.
“Besides, I will end up becoming a grinch if I eat these toasts.”
“Who said?” Mom inquired with hands on her hips and a crossed brow.
“Marsha said her brother has turned green ever since he ate avocados.”
Then with a brief pause, “I don’t want to hate Christmas by becoming a grinch.”
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Lystra Rejects Breakfast by Jeff Gard
“Mom, it tastes funny.” Lystra’s face collapses around her puckered nose.
I take a bite of her avocado toast. The bread crunches correctly, but the spread tastes metallic like fruit from a can.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
The tip of her tongue touches the green paste. She immediately licks her sleeve and frowns.
“I want to go home.”
Out the window, Earth shrinks to a green and blue marble, glowing in an oil spill sky. I invite Lystra into my lap and stroke her hair. She melts into my chest like a warm handprint on frosted glass.
“Me, too.”
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Second Breakfast by Chel Owens
Janie did not like green food. When her mother placed Janie’s toast in front of her, then, she stared at the green slices in consternation.
“What’s this?”
“Breakfast, Honey.” Mother smiled and ate a bite of her own.
“It’s green.”
“Mmm. Yes.”
“It’s green mush.”
“Mmm. Yes.”
Mom wasn’t going to helpful. Janie pushed her fork against the offensive topping. It smooshed and slimed against the tines, leaving green behind it on the bread. “Ew!” she cried. “I’m having normal toast!”
“Suit yourself,” Mom said. While Janie was at the toaster, Mom reached across and ate her daughter’s serving.
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Yes, He’ll Do…by Liz Husebye Hartmann
They lay before him, twin treats on crunchy multigrain. Both promised exotic pleasure, both things he’d never imagined trying on his own. She’d wanted to woo him with her cooking skills. Otherwise intelligent, funny as hell, and gorgeous in nothing but his dress shirt, she was worth the risk.
“This one is avocado toast, with homemade pineapple salsa, a dash of cayenne, and a splash of lime for brightness?”
She nodded.
“And that brown one is gjetost, with a swipe of unsalted butter?”
He tried one, then the other, and was pleasantly surprised.
Wow.
He must really love her.
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Breakfasting Alone by Sue Spitulnik
As soon as Michael told Tessa he had to go to Walter Reed she made a grocery list. There were some things he refused to eat so she had them as guilty pleasures when he was away. She had never mastered picking the perfect purplish-green orbs, so would buy three. They were a pain to peel without getting the slimy meat on her hands, and the pit often flew across the room when she removed it, but the avocado mashed on a hot buttery piece of toast was worth the trouble. How soon did he say he was leaving?
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Avocado Lover by Jessica E. Larsen
“Who wants avocado?” I asked one day.
My husband smiled. I already expected it when he joked, “Ah that tasteless fruit?”
I used to have friendly banter with him about it. Avocado is one of my favorite fruits. I won’t let anyone make fun of it. However, today I only made a face. I spread the beautiful green fruit on top of a toasted bread and serve it with sun-dried tomatoes. “One avocado toast.” His smile widens as he whispered to me, “You’re the best.”
My four-year-old peered at me. “Where’s mine?”
We exchanged smiles. Yep. Another avocado lover.
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One Writer’s Journeys by Saifun Hassam
Madeleine stopped for brunch at a road-side cafe, “The Scrambled Spread.” Her eyes lit up when she saw avocado toast on the menu.
She remembered her early days as a writer, enjoying Sunday brunch at a neighborhood cafe. “Sunny Side Cafe.” Scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, avocado toast, dark roast coffee. Scribbling thoughts into a notepad.
She savored her chicken-avocado sandwich, with avocado toast to go.
The scenic coastal highway curved northwards. She was on her way to Fort Ross, researching California’s 19th-century Russian settlements. She was writing historical fiction of the Spanish, Mexican and Russian history along the Pacific.
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No Guac!? Donna Matthews
Tina and Barbara stood in the burrito line, looking over the menu, when Tina sighed.
“What??” asked Barbara.
“I can’t wait until I can order guac, and when they say ‘That’ll be extra.’ I won’t care.”
“Why do you care now?” countered Barbara.
Tina stammered…”Well, it’s extra, and I can’t really afford extra things right now.”
“How do you not afford guac? Avocado is a staple! Avocado toast, guacamole, avocado BLTs!”
“It’s all about priorities,” continued Barbara. “You’ve gotta pick and chose what’s important, necessary, AND delicious!”
Tina brightened and faced the burrito server, “I’ll take guac on that!”
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Dress It Up by Ann Edall-Robson
A loud snort was heard as the last of the cowboys came into the kitchen. Plates of food sat untouched on the table, ranch hands staring at their breakfast. Rummaging around in the cook’s fridge was forbidden but he’d take one for the team if he had to.
“Got any onions, garlic, hot sauce?”
“Stay out of my fridge!”
“No offence, ma’am, but if you expect us to eat this sh..stuff, maybe dress it up. How ‘bout with tortilla, beans, bacon, and eggs. Never heard of just avocado on toast.”
Sobs choked her words.
“That’s all there is.”
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Nando and the Avocado by R. V. Mitchell
Ferdinando was put simply a party animal. He was renowned for his decadence. For Nando late nights followed by champagne breakfasts, and sirloin lunches were the norm. But when his lifestyle started to catch up with him in his late forties, he decided to bite the bullet and see the doctor.
The medical advice was clear, he would have to get more sleep and eat a more nutritious and balanced diet.
Well after consulting his dietary plan he decided that “avocado toast” sounded a good breakfast option. How bad could a slice of avocado be in a martini anyway?
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Smashed Avocados by Doug Jacquier
Why are you still renting, son?’
‘Because I can’t save enough to buy.’
‘But you’ve just been overseas.’
‘It’s called a rite of passage, Dad.’
‘Is that a new phone you’ve got?’
‘Yes. This one’s 5G and has an amazing camera.’
‘How’s the car running?’
‘Don’t start that again. All cars will be electric soon.’
‘So do you ever plan to buy a house?’
‘Of course … well, maybe …maybe never. Depends on whether Zoe and I get serious.’
‘Holidays, latest phone, latest car, different girl every month and every morning for breakfast, smashed avocado. That plan is toast.’
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Avocado Toast by FloridaBorne
“What is that?” Mother asked.
“Avocado toast.”
“It looks like guacamole on overcooked bread,” Mother said.
“You’re free to find something else in my fridge to eat,” I replied.
“Where’s the mayo…and meat?” she asked, searching through my fridge.
“I’m vegan.”
She took her flip phone out of her purse, found a well-used phone number and asked, “Eddie’s Pizza? Yeah. I’d like to order the Medium all meat pizza with extra cheese.”
Twenty minutes later, she flipped open the box and asked, “Wanna slice?”
I couldn’t help myself. I swear my fingers and mouth have minds of their own!
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Avocado Toast by Bill Engleson
I don’t mean to boast,
Don’t mean to crow,
But I love my toast
Smothered wide and deep
with avocado.
Avocado dreams, they sure fill my cup,
Breakfast love or my evening sup,
A midnight snack when sleep won’t flow,
A slice of toasted bread
smeared with avocado.
I‘m a pretty good host
Like to put on a show,
Cook up a veggie roast
And a very slow baked
sweet potato.
Avocado dreams, they sure fill my cup,
Breakfast love or my evening sup,
A midnight snack when sleep won’t flow,
A slice of toasted bread
smeared with avocado.
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Avocado Toast by Frank Hubeny
For years Bill enjoyed beer, pizza and ice-cream. When diagnosed with an autoimmune disease he changed his diet.
Someone told him to stop drinking beer. He stopped. Someone suggested avocado toast. What’s that? He was told it’s obvious what that is. So he tried it. Someone said to stop eating pizza. Is that because of the wheat? Yes. There goes the toast.
Bill’s weight sank to normal and he felt better. He noticed he was spending less on food than before. Thankfully no one told him to stop eating avocados, but then he no longer asked them for advice.
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Tea and Sympathy by Liz Husebye Hartmann
“What’s the plan for today?” he asked.
Georgia watched out the window as squirrels chased each other through new-fallen snow, then up and around the trunk of the red oak they’d planted at Jessi’s birth. Snow chunks dropped like overcooked spuds.
“Temps must be rising. Might be good for a hike later.”
She pulled on her coffee, felt the burn, the reactive tears. Good.
He pushed the untouched plate of avocado toast her way. “It’s not your fault. We’ll video chat with Jessi later.”
“I was asymptomatic and didn’t wear a mask. And now our daughter’s in the hospital.”
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Absolutely Nothing by Jeff Gard
Avocados dangle like testicles from a tree in our backyard. Some fruit has fallen where squirrels and rodents can tear into its black, warty flesh.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Doris scrapes burnt toast over the sink. Charcoal dust coats the stainless steel.
“All the tests say the same thing.”
“There’s nothing we can do?”
Doris starts spreading thick green paste onto the toast, then stops. She slumps into a chair at the table opposite me, leaving our breakfast just out of reach. She stares at the swollen trees while gutted avocado shells rot on our counter.
“Absolutely nothing.”
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Sophie Can Dream by Eliza Mimski
The avocado is the vagina of foods. A slick-rich treat of green heaven. A green world waiting for the tongue. It also waits for the toast.
The toast. That square gluten bed of arousal. Day mattress where the knife spreads the green.
Sophie had been single for so long that yes, she now ascribed sexual meaning to her food. Her olive salad as a bed of eyes waiting for her to undress. Her carrots were tall orange strangers that made her faint.
Tonight, yes tonight, she would have rib-eye steak. Near the bone, the fat sopped up the juices.
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Haunted by Her Carbon Footprint by Anne Goodwin
Selena thought they resembled hand grenades, but beneath the toady carapace the flesh was melt-in-the-mouth divine. Yes, the price had doubled recently, but avocado on toast would set her up for a successful day.
Three packets in her trolley, she moved on to the bakery counter. Turning her head, a trail of sooty footprints marked her path from the greengrocery section. Yet the soles of her shoes were pristine.
With a sigh, she retraced her steps. She knew the drill. She could scrub the floor she’d sullied. Or return the airfreighted produce that depleted the rainforests to the shelf.
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A Separation Tale by Charli Mills
Maria padded across the road to gather dropped avocados where the foreman lived in a huge ivory house. It didn’t smell of beans and tortillas like her tiny home. It felt cold; its size scared her. When vehicles slid to a stop in front of the bunks, Maria hid behind a hedge of pink roses. Her throat pinched shut at the sight of her Abuela in silver bracelets that imprisoned her hands. The men in black uniforms loaded all the neighbors in two vans and left. When her Papa did not return at noon, she ate avocado toast alone.
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Avocado Toast by Joanne Fisher
“Hey honey, have you seen the avocados I bought?” I asked Jen who was looking at her phone.
“Sorry I had avocado toast for lunch.”
“But I was planning to make a guacamole dip for tonight.” I told her. She just shrugged her shoulders and resumed scrolling through her phone. I stared at her evilly.
Later the guests arrived and marveled at all the food I prepared.
“Oh wow you made some salsa!” One guest said. “It tastes a bit weird though.”
“Yeah sorry about that, it was made with whatever I found in the kitchen at the time.”
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(24) Damned Family (Jesse Begins Seriously Reading Norman’s Journal) by JulesPaige
Jesse believed she now had the job of finding out more about Norman and this mysterious journal that he kept. She believed she saw his dead body in her hotel room when she had gone to her family reunion. Her own job was flexible, working for herself, which she did even though her own family inheritance had left her more than comfortable. But she had never really had a handle on what Norman did. Something for the government.
Jesse sat down and flipped the journal pages. She discovered Norman wrote poetry. An outlet for both his frustrations and creativity.
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(25) Damned Family by JulesPaige
To be heard
How absurd
Spreading avocado on toast
Just to boast
That I exist
I know you’ve woke –
I don’t have to poke
you awake
I’ll stake
My reputation
If I ever had one
Just to have some fun
To breathe, to live
To love, to give
Let you gift me a new toaster
When the this one I’ve used
Possibly abused
Happens to break down
So please don’t frown
In the morning’s light
It had been Norman’s job in his brief marriage to make breakfast. He had to keep up appearances of having a normal job.
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Toast by D. Avery
In the beginning we both adored avocado toast for breakfast. Together we peeled and pitted. We ate avocado toast out of each other’s hands.
In the end of the beginning I suggested other breakfast foods, reminisced about eggs. Oatmeal even, with raisins. Surely an avocado aficionado would also appreciate raisins and oats. But you insisted on only, always, avocado on toast.
In the beginning of the end I slumped at the counter slurping oatmeal while you crunched overdone toast smeared with over-ripe avocado.
In the end I let you rush to that meeting with avocado stuck in your mustache.
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Avocado on Toast by Hugh W. Roberts
What signal will you give when you’re ready to go?
I always met Carl at this restaurant. But this foggy Thursday evening was much different.
The waiter looked at me peculiarly when I ordered two portions of avocado on toast.
A sudden burst of cold air crossed the table as he placed two plates of green coloured toast in front of me.
I couldn’t thank him. I couldn’t move, yet my ears picked up the sound of Carl’s voice cutting through the foggy night.
“Good. You’re ready. I’ve been waiting for your signal. I told you I’d come to get you when you ordered avocado on toast for us.
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George is My Friend by Gloria McBreen
I often passed him by; the man sitting at the lake in a black shabby coat, and tattered old cap. Today I stopped.
‘I’m George. I’m 79 today,’ he smiled. He told me about himself. He offered to share his special birthday picnic with me. I declined, as I watched his dirty hands lifting the lid of his lunchbox.
‘Actually…yes please,’ I blurted.
He cut his avocado in half. He handed me my share, and a tiny wooden spoon.
‘A birthday toast to you George.’
When we bumped our avocado halves together, I knew I’d made a new friend.
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Lydia Avocado Parker by Simon
I met her several times in that restaurant, I was never brave to talk with her.
One day she served me. I had ordered Asian pear crostini. But she gave me Avocado toast on my plate.
I hated that food, I asked her to replace, her face was nervous she looked at her manager, I lied her, pretended I liked it and tasted a delicious food in my life.
I proposed to her, as a sign of acceptance she gave two Avocado toast, and that’s how it all began with “Lydia Avocado” she giggled and said it’s Lydia Parker.
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Avocado Toast by kathy70
My year started out very different for me, I became a “professional” house sitter in a very urban setting and completely embracing city life. Changes in my attitude and outlook impacted everything. Yes, I grew up in the city at a very different time. Now, this was a choice.
Breakfast would be a walk to the coffee house for some avocado toast and coffee. Afternoons spent in a small museum or specialty shop, a true feeling of discovering myself and making conscious choices. Always thought retirement would mean a slow down not a speed up. Guess I was wrong.
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Avocado on Rye by Kerry E.B. Black
Georganne drummed her fingernails, lips stretched thin. She swallowed back her temper and whispered, “You idiot.”
Tony ruffled a hand through neglected locks and smiled. “Come on, G. It’ll be great.”
She shook her head. “It takes hours to cook a Thanksgiving feast, and I work until 3.”
“Can’t you take off?” He dodged the death daggers her expression launched. “With quarantine, they have nowhere to go.” When her expression didn’t soften, he worried his lower lip. “Wait! I’ll cook.”
She snorted. “You can’t even make toast without burning it!”
He nodded. “Yeah, but I cut a mean avocado.”
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Ahead a Ther Time by D. Avery
“Figgered ya’d be whinin’ ‘bout this prompt, Kid.”
“Ha! We’re all set. Avocado toast’s been on the Saddle Up Saloon menu since the get go.”
“It has?”
“Jeez, Pal. Pay attenchen. Thinkin’ we’ll add pasties to the menu too.”
“Oh, now thet’s a good idea. Kin we do thet afore November 16 when T. Marie Bertineau takes the stage?”
“Sure kin, Pal. An’ folks kin be thinkin’ now on recipes an’ reminisces fer November 23’s Recipe Rustlin’ at the Saloon. Heck, contact us at shiftnshake@dslayton.com , mebbe ya kin take the stage, tellin’ ‘bout favorite fam’ly an’ their foods.”
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I’ve lost count… how many for and how many against?
Ha! I think it comes down to Brits and kids vs. Aussie and Yank hippies.
Reblogged this on Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie ~ Authors.
I loved the lot From Geoff’s hat-trick
You got to watch those two!
Sorry fat fingers sent t off too soon; grrrr … to Gloria’s shared birthday They are all so good.
Dancing fingers! This is a great collection.
It surely is.
A nice tasty collection of stories 😋
I agree (though some might dispute the taste)!
That was a lovely collection of Avocado Toast 😍😋Enjoyed reading, I sense a lot many bloggers participation on this topic 😁😊 Have a lovely week Charli ✨🥳
I think avocados sparked the creative flow! Thanks, Simon, you too!
Another fine kettle of .. avocadoes. Congrats to all. I f(l)avoured Geoff, Anita, Ann, RV, Anne and Davery this time around. Special hats-off to Eliza for Sophie Can Dream (although, as a man, since reading her first line I’m not sure whether I’m allowed to eat avocadoes any more.) 😉
A truly androgynous fruit from outside to inside. It can be many things, this magical shapeshifting fruit. We can all dream. Great kettle of stories!
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