My alternative guacamole reigned supreme at Guac Bowl ’06 and all is right with the world. First, a quick recap of the winners (very punny for the uninitiated):

Best Traditional Guacamole: Guac Cousteau (Lisa and Jason VanBorssum)
Best Presentation: Guactanamo Bay (Melissa MacRae)
Best Alternative Guac: Tequila Guacingbird (me! Me me me me!)
Icarus Award (for the one who flew too close to the sun): Guac-king Stuffers (or stockings filled with peppermint guac and Christmas carols playing in the background, Brandon Oropallo)

Let me take you through my day:

Woke up. Made guacamole. This year I was going to use a really basic recipe (avocados, red onions, jalapeño, lemon, cilantro, salt) and just add a couple of teaspoons of tequila with the alcohol cooked out to make it alternative. I used a Meyer lemon thinking this was my second secret weapon next to the tequila since Meyer lemons are supposed to be the best lemons in the world. As it turns out, I wouldn’t recommend using a Meyer lemon in guacamole. Meyer lemons should stick to desserts.

Between the Meyer lemon and the tequila, my guac was the most mouth-puckering thing you’ve ever tasted. So, I panicked. I tried to fix this first with salt, then more avocado, then more salt. Then desperately I threw in cumin and garlic powder. I eyed the remains of the Taco Seasoning Mix I made recently, and that got tossed in the bowl too. Then more cumin. Then it tasted too much like cumin, so I had to add another avocado. More cilantro, onion and salt followed. At one point, I lost my mind and added more tequila and lemon. I simply can’t explain what was going through my head at this point. So I sat there staring at what was sure to be losing guacamole trying to think of something to combat the tartness. Sour cream and mayonnaise came to mind, but being tangy in their own right, this made absolutely no sense. So I thought about lemon squares and margaritas and what kept the lemon flavor from seeming sour. Sugar! I poured in sugar. Relief—it tasted better! So more and more sugar was poured into the mix until the guacamole became mildly addictive.

When I got to Guac Bowl held at the Adam Pava residence, which is the premier food event of Atwater Village—why I’m not hosting the premier food event of Atwater, no one knows—there were already some strong competitors in place. The Guac-Ness Monster sat steaming in a bath of dry ice, ambrosia guac tasted shockingly better than expected, guacaroni and cheese was still warm and one of the two Guactanamo Bays was already taking up a fourth of the table space. I set out my tequila shot glasses filled with guac, stuck some birds I got from an arts and craft store in a few glasses and hoped for the best.

Competition got stiffer as the afternoon progressed with pomegranate guac, grilled cactus guac, blood orange and fennel guac and a guac called The Emancipation Guaclimation that stood in protest of the entire Guac Bowl organization and its desire to turn the usually passive guacamole into instruments of competition. There were many other amazing entries, but this blog entry is already long, and I simply can’t name them all.

Ballots were secret and clearly marked, and the winners were announced at halftime. I now have an enormous trophy of a man holding a wreath who appears only to be wearing underwear. Perhaps he’s a swimmer? And I’d post my guac recipe if I remembered how in the world I made it. I hope y’all enjoyed it while it lasted. It was a one-time thing.

And I think Pittsburgh won the football game that some people seemed to be watching.

(For Adam’s pictures, go to: homepage.mac.com/pundog.)

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