Every week in Genius Recipes—often with your help!—Food52 Creative Director and lifelong Genius-hunter Kristen Miglore is unearthing recipes that will change the way you cook.
In my struggle to come to terms with the idea of food trending and then going away, I think of it this way: The best food trends lift up more dishes for us to love, and the good ones stick.
Avocado toast, of course, is one of the good ones.
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Avocado toast was here long before we all started talking about it and it will be here long after we’ve stopped. (Unicorn frappuccinos, sadly, will not.)
Maybe we’ll stop paying $16 for it at restaurants one day, but at home, we’re firmly committed. (Google doesn’t see us not-talking about it anytime soon, either—searches are still growing, peaking in January each year.)
But despite (or maybe because of) it living in my forever collection of thingamabobs and quick snacks, I always seem to top in the same predictable way: lemon for acid, cumin for warmth, chile for heat. Each choice is about framing and contrasting with a raft of creamy avocado.
And, obviously, salt. Because everything needs salt—especially avocado, the richest fruit, the subtlest butter. Right?
Well, no. As I learned from Apollonia Poilâne’s shockingly delicious avocado tartines in her new cookbook, Poilâne, none of this is necessarily true. With more thoughtful seasoning, not everything needs salt—even for a palate like mine that expects generous amounts of it.
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Instead, Apollonia seasons her tartines with lime zest and juice, chile flakes, and honey—each balancing and brightening and delicately elbowing salt out of the picture—but also, less predictably, with ripe banana.
This is where my contrasts-only avocado toast philosophy really fails. Banana is more of a cousin to avocado than a foil. Their textures are almost indistinguishable, soft on more soft, and their flavors must surely sit in the same zone of our taste buds or those wine-tasting wheels: Mild. Creamy. Palatable. (Babies love them.)
But sometimes setting two things this similar next to each other can draw out their subtle differences more: The banana tastes a bit sweeter, the avocado a little more green.
This certainly isn’t the first or only place the two have canoodled: Bananas or sweet plantains and avocado are commonly served (and grown) together in Latin America, and chefs have played with the pairing in everything from chaat to guacamole to cookies. Pierre Hermé’s macaron with avocado, banana, and dark chocolate was Apollonia’s inspiration here.
Perhaps it’s the start of a trend. And we get to keep it.
Got a genius recipe to share—from a classic cookbook, an online source, or anywhere, really? Perhaps something perfect for beginners? Please send it my way (and tell me what’s so smart about it) at [email protected].
