Daiquiri de Palta

Avocado Daiquiri

In South America, people eat avocados in and on everything, but also out of hand like any other fruit. Thick, buttery avocado slices on a hunk of bread with a good sprinkling of salt was one of my favorite snacks when I was little. When I moved to Los Angeles, I was surprised that I’d seen so few that weren’t mashed up and on a tortilla chip. When Julian Cox, whom we were fortunate to have as our consulting mixologist at Picca, came up with this cocktail, I wasn’t convinced people here could get past the whole guacamole thing. The sticky-sweet impression most daiquiris left (thanks to the poor-quality versions of the overly sweetened lime and rum cocktails at one too many beach dive bars) didn’t exactly help. This was so far from either. We were never able to take the daiquiri off the menu.

When you shake the cocktail really well and strain the liquid through a kitchen strainer, the avocado almost melts into the rum. What’s left is more the essence of avocado that has been very lightly sweetened, so a good rum can take its rightful place as the dominant flavor (use your favorite). Those kitschy giant daiquiri-size glasses are way too big here; use elegant, old-school Champagne coupe glasses, if you have them.

Combine the avocado, lime juice, agave nectar, and rum in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Shake longer than you usually would, a solid 15 seconds. The mixture should be very frothy and the pureed avocado nicely incorporated. Taste and add more lime juice and/or agave, if you’d like. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into the “dry” half of the shaker, then strain again into a shallow coupe glass. Serve inmediatamente.

Pureed Avocado

Makes about ¾ cup, enough for 3 or 4 cocktails

A good squeeze of lime or lemon juice keeps the mashed avocados from turning brown for several hours, so you can make a big batch of this puree for drinks ahead. Omit the agave nectar or honey and you can use the same technique to make a big batch of smashed avocados for sandwiches like pan con tuna (page 73). Use a creamy variety like Hass.

  • 1 large or 1½ small ripe Hass avocados
  • ¾ ounce (about 1½ tablespoons) agave nectar or honey
  • ½ lime or ¼ lemon

Puree the avocado flesh, agave nectar, lime juice, and 1 tablespoon water in a blender until smooth (a few small chunks are fine). If you don’t have a high-powered blender, you may need to give the thick mixture a good stir once or twice. Use right away, or cover and refrigerate for up to 4 hours.

¿Que palta?

Avocados are native to the central swath of the highlands stretching from Mexico down along the coast through Central America. Eventually, they made their way down to ancient Peru and Chile. Incas called avocados paltas, based on the Quechan word for the fruit, which is what we still call them in Peru.

Most other Spanish-speaking countries call them aguacates or ahuacates, a descendant of the Aztec word ahuacatl, which means “testicle.” I’m guessing it’s obvious that the name comes from the shape of the fruit (sí, it was a symbol of fertility). In the early 1900s, a group of California farmers who wanted to grow the “exotic” fruit didn’t think Americans would go for the reference. (The Peruvian slang term ¿Que palta?—“how embarrassing”—seems like the thing to say right now.) The growers introduced the fruit by the tamer name avocado.