Flavia's Flavors

On My Love of Writing and Pioneer Woman's Macaroni and Cheese

It's been three days since I made this recipe and have wanted to write a post about it.  Problem is, I've been plagued by a case of writer's block.  I've been reading so much about food these days, you'd think I'd be inspired and prolific.  But the creative juices aren't really flowing much.  If I remember correctly, I think the "cure" for writer's block is to just write in order to get back into a groove of sorts.  So here I go.  I'm just going to write, but I can't promise you'll read a post dedicated exclusively to macaroni and cheese.  I'll start by writing about writing and why I love it so much.  Here goes!

When I was in high school, my favorite class was English.  I had a teacher named Sally Michel, and she was a brilliant English teacher.  She was funny, intelligent, and had a great laugh.  I went to college extremely well-prepared to study as an English major because of her.  I remember meeting several people in college who didn't know how to write an essay and it baffled me.  And then I was always thankful for Mrs. Michel.  I never minded seeing my essays marked up with red ink when I got them back from my professors.  It only  made me want to write a better one the next time.  Sometimes, those red marks weren't corrections or suggestions, either.  Sometimes, my professors wrote things like "excellent point" or "well composed".  I even used to write essays in French (oh, to be able to do that again!).  French was my minor because next to Italian, French is the other language I am totally in love with.  It was a bonus that I studied in Québec, where I was surrounded by French-speaking people on a daily basis and got to put my classroom learning into practice.  The only thing I was never able to do was nail down that charming accent québécois.  As the four years of college progressed, so did my aptitude, and I was able to take more advanced classes, one of which was a class where we learned to deconstruct French literature.  Quizzes, tests, assignments and final exams were almost always in the form of essays.  I wish I had saved them.  I wish I had saved all my high school and college essays.  It would be fun to re-read all of them. 

The only kind of writing I never tried was creative writing.  It just never appealed to me.  I'm not good at creating stories for fictional compositions.  Instead, I like to write about the things I experience first-hand, so blogging has become the perfect outlet for the kind of writing I enjoy the most.  But it's a  style of writing that is still fairly new territory for me.  I've admitted this before: there is some seriously good food writing out there in the blogosphere and it's intimidating for me at times.  But I'm not going to let it stop me.  Like the red marks on my high school and college essays, I'm going to use the exemplary food writing I read as motivation to make my own writing better.

During the past year that I've been authoring Flavia's Flavors, I've discovered that most times, good ideas for writing come when I'm performing mindless or repetitive tasks, like blow drying my hair, cleaning or working out.  I quickly learned to keep a notepad and pen in the bathroom vanity, the kitchen, the car and my purse so I can jot down ideas and phrases as they come to me.  The idea to write a post about curing my case of writer's block came to me while taking a stroll through the mall when I was out with Peter tonight.  I deleted the forced and badly composed paragraphs I typed out this morning and started over again tonight when we got home from a fun and relaxing Saturday out.  And now look--I've managed to write five paragraphs about why I love writing in mere minutes!  

Now that I appear to be cured of my writer's block, I suppose I should also write about this macaroni and cheese recipe that I made the other night for dinner.  This is a food blog after all. 

If you are familiar with Ree Drummond (a.k.a. The Pioneer Woman), you already know that her recipes are homestyle cooking at its best.  Familiar ingredients, easy preparations and full-flavored food are the hallmarks of her cooking style.  This is exactly what I love about American country-style cooking.  There's no fuss, no gourmet-ing-it-up-art-on-a-plate nonsense.   And what could be a more cozy and familiar dish than baked macaroni and cheese? 

I'm no stranger to homemade baked pasta dishes, and I can personally attest that they are well worth the time spent making them.  Italy's version of macaroni and cheese is called pasticcio, which colloquially, translates to "a mess".  But in culinary terms, a pasticcio is pasta mixed with béchamel sauce, meat and vegetables, topped off with a sprinkling of Parmigiano Reggiano.  My post on Pasta al Forno is a perfect example of a pasticcio, and it's what I grew up eating often.  But I'm also a fan of the true-blue American style of macaroni and cheese, and Ree's recipe is a delicious example of this classic comfort food.  It's everything macaroni and cheese should be: tender, tubular-shaped pasta (any kind will do) enrobed in a velvety cheese sauce, seasoned with the subtle tang of dry mustard and topped off with a generous sprinkling of cheddar cheese that melts into a delicate crust.  If writing about this dish cured my writer's block, then eating it is sure to cure whatever ails you, too.

Macaroni and Cheese

Adapted from The Pioneer Woman Cooks

1 lb. box short, tubular-shaped pasta, such as elbows, penne, rigatoni or cavatappi

1 T. salt, to season the pasta cooking water

¼ cup (4 T.) unsalted butter

¼ cup all-purpose flour

2½ cups whole milk

2 tsp. dry mustard

1 egg, lightly beaten

1 pound cheddar cheese, grated

½ tsp. salt

½ tsp. ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Butter a large baking dish and set aside.

Bring the pasta water to a rolling boil, add 1 tablespoon of salt and the pasta.  Cook the for about half the recommended cooking time listed on the box.  You want the pasta to be underdone since it will finish cooking in the oven.  Drain and set aside.

In a large pot, melt the butter and add in the flour.  Cook for about 5 minutes over medium-low heat, whisking constantly.  Adjust the heat to make sure the butter/flour mixture does not burn.  Pour in the milk, and add in the dry mustard and whisk constantly until the mixture is smooth and has thickened, about 5 minutes.  Reduce the heat to low.

Add ¼ cup of the béchamel sauce to the beaten egg and whisk constantly until well incorporated and smooth.  Pour the egg mixture into the pot of béchamel sauce and whisk until well incorporated.  Add in all but ½ cup of the shredded cheddar cheese and stir until it melts into the sauce.  Season the sauce with the salt and pepper and taste to adjust the seasoning if necessary.  Remove the sauce from the heat.

Pour the drained, cooked pasta into the warm cheese sauce and stir well to combine.  Pour the pasta mixture into the buttered baking dish and top with the reserved ½ cup shredded cheddar cheese.  Bake for 20-15 minutes, or until bubbling and golden on top.

Buttermilk Waffles

Well hello there.  I know it's been a while since I've been around here.  I've missed blogging and cooking a lot.   That lousy week of feeling crummy turned into two more lousy weeks of feeling crummy, so I spent a lot of my time lying around doing nothing and periodically feeling sorry for myself because, simply put, I'm a big wimp when I don't feel well.  I get all whiny and grumpy, and am generally bad company to be around.  And I was even grumpier because I lost all motivation to cook, bake and blog.  Not. Fun.  But now that I am finally feeling better, I have a lot of lost kitchen time to make up for, so let's talk waffles, one of my favorite breakfast foods.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with breakfast.  I love breakfast and breakfast foods.  I hate eating breakfast too early.  I've always been this way.  When I was in elementary and high school, it was a gargantuan effort to eat anything so early in the morning, which was then compounded by the parental-induced stress of  being nagged to "eat a good breakfast" so I can study well, have energy, yadda, yadda, which obviously did nothing to improve my appetite.  Once I got to college, where my classes began later in the morning and my appetite had enough time to sufficiently kick in, I was actually hungry for breakfast, and went willingly to the dining hall to enjoy the only meal of the day that was actually prepared fairly well, and where I could sit in the morning quiet and enjoy my food.

Now that I'm running my own household and am not tied to any schedules, I get to indulge my love of breakfast on my own terms, and weekend breakfasts in our house don't start until 9AM or later.  Although I'm somewhat of an early riser, I don't head to the kitchen too early.  I'll sit and leaf through a magazine or a cookbook, surf the Internet, and enjoy the stillness and quiet of the house for an hour or so.  When Peter gets up, I'll start getting breakfast ready.  These waffles are a regular on the breakfast rotation.

As a kid, the only waffles I ate were of the Eggo variety, and little did I know what I was missing--until I made my first batch from scratch.  Now, the toaster takes a back seat to my waffle iron, and I happily combine wet and dry ingredients that produce a crispy exterior, a tender, pillowy interior and all those square divots to hold a slow-melting pat of butter and drizzle of warm maple syrup.  And with only a tablespoon of sugar in the batter, there's no reason that these dimpled disks need to be eaten just before noon.  Use a couple of them to bookend your favorite deli meats, cheeses and assorted condiments.  Have them hold a shmear of your favorite nut butter and marmalade.  Serve them with ice cream and fresh berries for an easy dessert.  These are so versatile, that being a breakfast lover is not required.

Buttermilk Waffles

Adapted from Joy of Cooking

1¾ cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp. baking powder

¼ tsp. baking soda

1 T. granulated sugar

½ tsp. salt

3 large eggs, at room temperature

1 stick (8 T.) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

1½ cups buttermilk

Preheat a waffle iron.  Preheat oven to 200˚.

In one bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar and salt.  In another bowl blend together the eggs, melted butter and buttermilk.  Note: Make sure that the butter is not too hot when you pour it into the eggs, or you will end up cooking the eggs.  Also, the buttermilk mixture might look a little "lumpy" and thick once you have combined all the wet ingredients--this is normal. 

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the wet ingredients.  Using a rubber spatula, blend the ingredients together using large strokes, making sure not to over-mix the batter.  The batter will be on the thick side and have texture--this is normal. 

Depending on how large your waffle iron surface is, use a ⅓ cup or ½ cup measure to pour the batter onto the waffle iron.  Transfer the cooked waffles to a large baking sheet and place in the oven to keep warm.  Serve with warmed maple syrup and butter, or any other way you prefer.

Single-Layer Classic Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Last week for me was "one of those weeks".  Simply put, it was lousy.  I felt under the weather all week, had no energy, was cranky, and I didn't have much of an appetite.  I ate just to maintain what little energy reserves I had, but I was hardly enthused by anything on my plate.  I managed to cook dinner for us on Monday; on Tuesday we ate the leftovers; on Wednesday we went out to grab a burger, and on Thursday we ordered Chinese.  As much as I wanted to be in the kitchen whipping something up for us throughout the week, I couldn't stand the thought of doing any cooking past reheating or picking up the phone to order in.  And I didn't like feeling so crummy (I hate being out of commission), but I knew I just had to rest and let my malaise run it's course.

But Friday.  Friday was another matter.  By Friday, I finally felt better.  I was back to my perky, energetic self.  The fog lifted out of my head and I was able to think clearly again.  "Miss Cranky" took a hike and I was hungry again.  I was also ready to get back in my kitchen.  But since it was the start of the weekend, with places to go and things to do, we indulged and ate dinner out: Friday it was fajitas (complete with a margarita for me; I felt like celebrating!), Saturday we went to our favorite eat-in movie theater that we patronize often, and Sunday evening was spent at my in-law's for a casual dinner and the Super Bowl.  I volunteered to bring dessert, so although the only cooking I did in my kitchen this weekend was of the sweet variety, it turned out to be the perfect way to ease back into my kitchen routine.

I've mentioned before how much I enjoy baking for its relaxing and methodical qualities.  So it was appropriate that my first venture back into my kitchen in almost one week began with the baking of something sweet.  And my most favorite "something sweet" at that: carrot cake.  I took my time prepping the ingredients: grating the carrots, leveling flour, whisking, mixing, chopping and pouring.  I even took my time washing the dishes and cleaning the counters.  It felt so comforting to be back in my favorite place in the house. 

I found this recipe a while back on the food blog, The Kitchen Sink.  I was particularly smitten with Kristin's fabulous idea of halving the original recipe and moderately frosting just the top of the cake.  Her twist on the cream cheese icing was also very appealing, not to mention delicious: swap the vanilla extract for a couple tablespoons of maple syrup.  And for me, carrot cake isn't carrot cake without golden raisins, so into the batter they went. 

After just shy of one hour, out came a fragrant, golden brown disk of The Best Carrot Cake I Have Ever Made.  Literally.  It was evenly baked--not overcooked, not undercooked; it wasn't sunk in the middle; and it slid effortlessly out of the cake pan and onto the cooling rack.  And the frosting cloaked the top of the cake with nary a crumb in it.  When I went to serve it, each wedge held it's shape and revealed a light, moist crumb.  When I went to eat it, I knew I had gotten the new week off to a great start.

Single-Layer Classic Carrot Cake

Adapted from Food & Wine and The Kitchen Sink

2 T. unsalted butter, at room temperature

½  cup pecans

1 cup all-purpose flour, plus 2 tablespoons

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. cinnamon

½ tsp. salt

½ cup vegetable oil

¼ cup buttermilk

¾ tsp. pure vanilla extract

2 large eggs, at room temperature

1 cup granulated sugar

1¼ cup shredded carrots

⅓ cup golden raisins (optional)

Preheat the oven to 325°.  Trace the bottom of a 9-inch cake pan onto a piece of parchment paper and cut out the parchment round.  Butter the bottom and sides of the cake pan and line the bottom of the pan with the parchment round.  Butter the parchment.  Dust the bottom and sides of the cake pan with 2 tablespoons of flour, discarding any excess.  Set the pan aside.

Spread the pecans on a baking sheet and toast in the oven for about 5-8 minutes until fragrant.  Let cool and coarsely chop.

In a large bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt and set aside.  In a measuring cup, whisk together the oil, buttermilk and vanilla extract.  Set aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs with the sugar on high speed until pale and smooth, about 5 minutes.  On medium speed, add the liquid ingredients and blend to incorporate.  Beat in the dry ingredients until just moistened, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary.

Using a spatula, fold in the carrots, chopped pecans and raisins.  Transfer the batter to the prepared cake pan and bake for 55 minutes to 1 hour.  Begin checking the cake about 5-10 minutes before the end of the baking time.  A skewer should come out clean when the cake is done.

Let the cake cool in the pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes.  Then, invert the cake out of the pan and onto the cooling rack to finish cooling completely.

Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Adapted from The Kitchen Sink

1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature

½ stick (4 T.) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup confectioner's sugar

2 T. pure maple syrup

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese and butter until light and fluffy.  Add in the confectioner's sugar and beat on low speed until well blended, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary.  Add the maple syrup and mix over low speed to combine. 

Transfer the desired amount of frosting onto the carrot cake and spread the frosting evenly over the top of the cake using a butter knife or small offset spatula.  Use the butter knife or spatula to make swirls.

Sugo all'amatriciana

My maternal grandmother ("Nonna") Liliana was from Rome.  After WWII, she and my grandfather ("Nonno") Diego came to the United States, where they got married and settled in Washington, DC.  Although they lived the majority of their lives in the United States, my grandparents never lost sight of their Italian heritage and traditions.  They learned to speak English, but Italian was spoken in their home; they read The Washington Post every day, but they also followed current events in Italy; they shopped in American supermarkets, but the food that came out of their kitchen was Italian through and through.  

And Nonna was a really good home cook.   The no-need-for-cookbooks kind of home cook; she had her recipes memorized.  But more than that, she understood cooking: which ingredients taste right together, how to season and taste as you cook to make the necessary adjustments for the right balance of flavor; how to take fresh ingredients and make their inherent flavors and textures shine by selecting them seasonally and preparing them simply.  And she made just about everything from scratch: soups, desserts, vegetable side dishes, and of course, pasta sauce.  Her sugo all'amatriciana has always been one of my favorites.

And this sauce has an interesting history.  Although Amatriciana sauce is associated with being a Roman specialty, it's city of origin is the town of Amatrice, located in northern Lazio.  It gained wide popularity during the 19th and 20th centuries when emigrants from an impoverished Amatrice began moving into Rome.  The recipe became so popular, that it has remained a classic of Roman cuisine ever since.  Over the years, variations of the recipe emerged due to the availability of certain ingredients.  Traditionally, garlic is sautéed in olive oil before adding guanciale (salted pork jowl) as the flavor base for the sauce.  But a variation using onion and pancetta is also common, much to the chagrin of the people of Amatrice, who are protective of the original preparation.  Two ingredients that have not been substituted over the years, though, are pecorino cheese and chili pepper. 

My family has always made amatriciana sauce with onion and guanciale--so I guess that means according to the people of Amatrice, we've only been making it half correctly...or half incorrectly?  I have never been the biggest fan of guanciale, at least not the guanciale that I've found in American supermarkets.  It's too fatty and too salty for my taste, so I have always made my amatriciana sauce with pancetta.  I find it to be meatier, sweeter and much more flavorful than guanciale.  And I've been known to ladle this delectable sauce over penne {gasp!} instead of the traditional bucatini.  But despite these slight variations of ingredients, one thing about this recipe remains a constant: it's Italian through and through.

Sugo all'amatriciana

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

1 T. unsalted butter

2 T. extra-virgin olive oil

1 cup diced yellow onion

 1 ¼-inch thick slice of pancetta, diced

½ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

1  28-oz. can crushed tomatoes

½ tsp. kosher salt plus more to add to pasta water

1 lb. bucatini, spaghetti or penne

2 T. grated Pecorino Romano

In a sauce pot over medium heat, melt the butter into the olive oil and add the onion.  Sauté the onion until it becomes tender and pale gold in color, then add the pancetta.  Cook for about 1 minute, stirring frequently.  Adjust the heat accordingly to make sure the ingredients do not burn.  Add the crushed red pepper flakes, tomatoes and salt and stir well to combine.  Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook partially covered for about 30 minutes, stirring periodically.  Do not allow the sauce to boil too vigorously; it should bubble steadily but gently, so adjust the heat accordingly.  Once the sauce is close to being finished, taste it and correct for salt and additional crushed red pepper if necessary.

Cook pasta according to package directions (don't forget to salt the water), drain and return the pasta to the pot.  Pour in a few ladles of the sauce and toss thoroughly so that the pasta is coated with the sauce.  Add the Pecorino Romano and toss gently again.  Serve hot.

Prosciutto, Mozzarella and Roasted Vegetable Panino

I've never been one for eating the same thing for lunch day in, day out.  Sure, there have been times where I've eaten the same thing for a stretch of a few weeks, but I always end up switching to something else once my taste buds have grown bored.  I don't, however, grow tired of eating sandwiches.  I love sandwiches.  Especially, panini. 

I've had some phenomenal panini during my summers spent in Italy as a kid.  While visiting my paternal grandparents in the north-eastern region of the Veneto, we would go to the ancient and beautiful city of Treviso, where we would take a break from shopping to eat a porchetta panino in a small, local, hole-in-the-wall bar.  The crusty roll would be freshly baked from a local bakery and the porchetta was roasted to perfection and sprinkled generously with crunchy, coarse salt--no other condiments necessary.  I'd chase my panino with an orange Fanta, while the adults enjoyed a crisp Prosecco.

 

When we'd visit my maternal grandparent's family in Rome, I loved to look in the windows of local bars, where I would see their pristine display cases filled with trays of tramezzini, delicate, un-toasted sandwiches with two to three simple, but flavorful components: mozzarella and basil, chicken salad, egg salad, and other savory combinations.  These always made a great snack around mid-morning, when we'd be walking around sight-seeing and start getting a hankering for something to eat that would tide us over until the Big Lunch that awaited us back at a relative's apartment.  At my great-aunt Franca's apartment, we would almost always have a dinner or two where we would eat "toast", a toasted sandwich made with thin, sliced white bread, prosciutto cotto (cooked ham) and a slice of white Kraft singles.  She would make several at a time in her small countertop toaster and serve them with a simply dressed green salad.  "Toast" was always one of my favorite dinners.

Today for lunch, I still wanted to eat a sandwich, but I felt like changing things up a bit from my usual.  I don't give my panini press nearly enough countertop time as it deserves, and I got started on remedying that issue right away by making this panino.  On Sunday, I decided to roast some red peppers, a couple of zucchini and a red onion, so I could have them at the ready.  I added a couple of slices of tissue-thin prosciutto for some salty-sweet flavor, a leaf of tender, slightly bitter radicchio for crunch and a couple of thin slivers of fresh mozzarella to melt and help seal the panino.  For the bread, I chose a multi-grain demi baguette, which was, sadly, not the tastiest and it was a little too multi-grain for my taste.  Next time, I'll use the more traditional ciabatta bread.  It was still a very tasty sandwich, and my panini press toasted and pressed my panino to perfection.  I'm glad I have more vegetables in the fridge because I think I've found something that I'll be eating day in, day out for the next few weeks.

Prosciutto, Mozzarella and Roasted Vegetable Panino

2 medium red peppers

2 small zucchini

1 red onion

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. ground black pepper

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

Fresh baguette, plain focaccia, or ciabatta bread

Fresh mozzarella

2-3 slices Prosciutto di Parma, sliced paper-thin

Arugula or Radicchio leaves (optional)

For the red peppers:  Preheat the broiler and rinse the red peppers with cold water.  Put the peppers (stem still attached) on a foil-lined baking sheet and place them under the broiler until the skin begins to blister and char.  Using a pair of tongs, turn them every 5-10 minutes to char every side of the peppers (your kitchen will smell like something is burning, but don't be alarmed.  Just keep an eye on the peppers while they are broiling).  When they have been completely charred, remove the peppers to a bowl and cover the bowl immediately and tightly with foil.  This will allow the heat and steam to separate the charred skin from the flesh, making the peppers easier to peel.  When the peppers are cool enough to handle, remove and discard the stem, seeds and skin, and place the flesh of the peppers in a container, saving any juices that drip out from the peppers (that's flavor!).  You can cut the peppers into thin strips or chunks, or just leave them in big pieces.  You can also dress the peppers with salt, pepper and olive oil for added flavor.  Keep refrigerated for up to 3-4 days.  

For the zucchini and onion:  Preheat the oven to 450°.  Wash the zucchini, trim the ends and cut into long slices, about ¼-inch in thickness.  Place in a large bowl.  Peel the onion, trim the ends and slice into ½-inch thick rounds.  Place in the bowl with the zucchini.  Sprinkle the zucchini and onion with the salt and pepper and drizzle on the olive oil.  Using a pair of tongs, toss the vegetables until they are coated evenly with the salt, pepper and olive oil.  Transfer them to a foil-lined baking sheet and arrange them in a single layer.  Roast for 30-45 minutes, or until they have become completely tender.  Let cool to room temperature and keep refrigerated for up to 3-4 days.

For the panino:  Preheat a panini press.  Slice the bread lengthwise.  Begin by adding the mozzarella, followed by the prosciutto, and then add the roasted vegetables. Top with another single layer of mozzarella and the lettuce leaves, if using.  Press down on the sandwich lightly and transfer to the panini press to toast for about 5-7 minutes.  Serve hot.

Guacamole

One of the many things I love about living in the South is that there are an abundance of very good Tex-Mex restaurants.  Italian food will always be my first food love, but it's not my only one.  Houston has some great Tex-Mex restaurants and Peter and I patronize them often, maybe too often.  But we just can't help ourselves.  They're just so good. 

Guacamole is one of our favorite Tex-Mex accompaniments, and it's something that I love making at home as much as I love eating in restaurants.  I adore avocados, so I make guacamole quite often in our house and it never lasts long.  I haven't always made good guacamole, though.  It took me many, many batches of bad guacamole before I finally got it right.  I used to use lemon juice instead of lime juice, and it always gave the guacamole a too-tart edge.  I would go overboard on the salt, forgetting that we'd be scooping it up with salty chips, and I used to add tomato, but they always got mealy and made the guacamole too watery.

I also used to make guacamole in the food processor, but I realized that I don't like my guacamole too smooth.  I love seeing small chunks of avocado on my tortilla chip and feeling it's buttery-smooth texture.  And a couple of Christmases ago, Peter tucked an avocado masher into my stocking and I've been using it to make my guacamole ever since.  It looks exactly like a potato masher, only smaller and it mashes the avocados to the perfect consistency--not too smooth, and not too chunky. 

Everyone makes guacamole a little differently, and there's no right or wrong way.  It's all about personal taste.  Some people add scallions instead of red onion.  Some people can't stand the flavor of cilantro so they leave it out, some people add a little jalapeno for extra heat.  There are endless variations.  Here is my personal recipe for you to try.  Enjoy!

 

Flavia's Guacamole

5 large, ripe Haas avocados

½ cup chopped red onion

¼ cup chopped cilantro

¼ cup freshly squeezed lime juice (you may need a little less, so add it a little at a time)

½ tsp. kosher salt

10-15 dashes hot sauce (I like Frank's Red Hot)

Halve the avocados and remove the pits.  Place all the ingredients in a large bowl and mash with a fork or avocado masher until you get the consistency you like.  Serve with tortilla chips.

When storing, place a piece of plastic wrap directly on top of the guacamole and gently press so that all the guacamole is in contact with the plastic wrap.  This will prevent the guacamole from turning brown.  Will keep for up to 2 days refrigerated.