It’s tragic, but it’s true: I have bad avo juju.

Last week, however, I bought a couple, somehow managed to forget about them – unheard of, in my house – and then rediscovered them lurking in my cupboard at the sweet spot of their ripeness. The result was flawless and creamy avo spread onto hot buttered toast. I almost cried.

Usually, I prod and poke them in the supermarket. Yes, I’m one of those people. In my defence, if the ‘ripe and ready’ packaging was truthful, I wouldn’t have to resort to surreptitious examinations in the aisle, with other shoppers giving me the stink-eye. (A certain retailer has now started selling frozen chunks of the fruit, but I can’t imagine that ending well.)

If they’re not quite tender enough yet, I take them home and keep them in the dark cupboard, alongside the lentils, chickpeas, coconut milk and beans. (My husband’s a veggie.) I lovingly visit them every day, stroke them, and coax them into growing up. But despite this lavish attention, they are likely to rebel like naughty children, being either rubbery and resistant, or sour, fibrous and mouldy. I don’t think there’s anything quite as disappointing.

But the lesson I learned this last week is to buy them when they’re rock hard, try to forget about them, and then unexpectedly happen upon them one Sunday afternoon when you have half a bag of Doritos – the blue ones – and a craving for ‘just a little something’. It’s like finding R50 in your jacket from last winter: wilfully forgetting you put it there, with a sweet reward in mind for your future self.

My preferred way to enjoy avos is with loads of butter on toast, or mashed up with salt, black pepper and lemon juice as dip for my signature gourmet nachos. (I am convinced my description of these in my interview helped land me this job.)

I also love avo spread onto wraps with spicy beans, basil pesto, zesty salsa, grated hard cheese and some crunchy leaves like baby spinach. Also, let’s not forget my favourite prawn tempura California rolls at 1890 House in Obs, or avo sliced onto a crackly-based pizza at Carlyle’s on Derry. And here are even more tasty ideas from Anelde, our content director.

What makes avos all the more delicious is their elusiveness, but now I know that you just have to let them go. Just like the best things in life, I guess.

Linda