In an era where culinary trends move faster than fashion, one local man has bravely stepped forward with a claim as bold as the zestiest guacamole. Meet Harold Turnipseed, a 42-year-old resident of Smalltownville, who insists that he is the true inventor of avocado toast, the breakfast fad that has taken the brunch world by storm.
Harold, who describes himself as an “avant-garde breakfast connoisseur,” recalls a fateful morning in 2008 when his life—and his morning meal—changed forever. “I was preparing for my routine breakfast of buttered toast,” Harold recounts from the comfort of his kitchen, which features one of those toasters with more settings than you’d ever use. “But lo and behold, the butter dish was bone dry.”
Faced with a crisis of epic proportions, Harold glanced around his pantry, searching for an alternative. It was then he spotted a lone avocado, abandoned in the fruit bowl like the last guest at a party. “I thought to myself, why not?” he laughs. “I mean, I’ve put stranger things on toast before, like that misguided Marmite incident.”
With the precision of a master chef—or at least the enthusiasm of an amateur sandwich artist—Harold mashed the avocado, spread it generously on his toast, and crowned it with a sprinkle of salt and a dash of pepper. “The first bite was like being kissed by an angel wearing elf shoes,” he says, his eyes misting over at the memory.
Convinced he had stumbled upon something extraordinary, Harold immediately shared his creation on all his social media accounts, which at the time consisted of texting his mom and posting a blurry photo on MySpace. “I knew it was ahead of its time,” he reflects. “Sadly, my mom mistook it for wasabi on a cracker, and MySpace was—well, you know.”
Despite the lack of immediate recognition, Harold remains unfazed. He insists that his gastronomic innovation soon infiltrated the collective consciousness of millennials far and wide, paving the way for the misconceived notion that smashed avocado was just for hip urban diners and not genius improvisers stranded in butterless kitchens.
Skeptics argue that the origins of avocado toast can be traced much further back. However, Harold dismissively waves away such claims. “Sure, you could listen to historians or gastronomists,” he asserts, “but none of them have ever gone toe-to-toe with a lack of breakfast spreads and emerged victorious.”
To commemorate what he refers to as his “culinary crown jewel,” Harold frequently hosts brunches dedicated to the art of adorning toast with avocados, taking pride in a menu that also features his subsequent innovation: “Pop Tart Paella.”
When asked if he had any advice for future food pioneers, Harold thoughtfully replied, “Be bold, and don’t fear the fruit bowl. And always have a Plan B for butter.”
Despite widespread appreciation for avocado toast, Harold still awaits the public recognition he believes he deserves. Until then, he remains content, smearing avocado and spreading claims like the maverick foodie he is, one toast at a time.