By August. Back to school. Jasmine enters 12th grade — SENIOR YEAR. My baby is a senior in high school. She is seventeen, turning eighteen in December, and she is applying to Howard University for music (her first choice, the school where she will thrive, the HBCU that will carry her voice the way Morehouse carries Marcus's arguments). She is also applying to Berklee and Oberlin and Spelman (my alma mater, the sentimental choice, the one that would make Mama's ghost sing in the halls). The applications require audition recordings. She records them in my kitchen. Where else? The kitchen with the best acoustics. The kitchen that held four generations of voices. She sings "Amazing Grace" for the Howard audition — the song from Mama's bedside, the song from every concert, the song that is HER song now, not grief but gift, not funeral but future.
Isaiah enters 12th grade — senior year at the Marietta school. He is seventeen, varsity captain, B+ student, the boy who was angry and is now steady. He will apply to UNC Charlotte for basketball (partial scholarship expected). The boy who built walls is building a future.
Zoe enters 10th grade. Drawing. Baking. Being the compass. Always the compass.
Made first-day-of-school dinner: the taco bar. The tradition so established it's geological. Three cooks contributing: Isaiah's guacamole, Zoe's churros, my ground beef. Marcus sent salsa from Morehouse (he mails it; the tradition continues). Jasmine made cornbread because even on taco night the cornbread is present because the cornbread is ALWAYS present. Four at the table plus Curtis. Senior year x2. The last first-day dinner with Jasmine and Isaiah under this roof. The math continues. The plates continue. The table holds.
Isaiah has owned the guacamole station at our taco bar since he was twelve years old — it started as something to keep him busy, and somewhere along the way it became his. This August, watching him stand at that counter mashing avocados while Jasmine sang scales in the background and Zoe measured cinnamon for her churros, I had to hold the counter myself for a second. The last first-day. The last guacamole. So I’m holding onto every avocado trick I know, because the taco bar tradition does not end when they leave — it just travels with them.
25 Fun Avocado Recipes
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 ripe Hass avocados, halved and pitted
- 1 lime, juiced
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/3 cup white onion, finely diced
- 1 Roma tomato, seeded and diced
- 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped
- 1 small jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
Instructions
- Prep the avocados. Scoop the flesh from each avocado half into a medium bowl. Add the lime juice and salt immediately to prevent browning.
- Mash to your texture. Use a fork to mash the avocado — leave it chunky for a hearty taco-bar style, or mash smooth if you prefer a dip consistency. This is the cook’s call.
- Season the base. Stir in the garlic powder and cumin, mixing evenly through the mashed avocado.
- Fold in the mix-ins. Gently fold in the diced onion, tomato, cilantro, and jalapeño if using. Stir just enough to combine without over-mixing.
- Taste and adjust. Taste for salt and lime. Add more of either until it tastes right to you. Serve immediately alongside chips, tacos, or anything on the taco bar table.
- Store if needed. Press plastic wrap directly against the surface of any leftovers before refrigerating to slow oxidation. Best eaten the same day.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 120 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 115mg