Paint it, Black – Rolling Stones
Hi and welcome back to the hurricane of thoughts I have on a daily basis. Throw in a beat and a bass line and let’s get this post going.
This song always takes me back to the TV show Tour of Duty. I was a bit too young to watch it, which of course meant I secretly watched it anyway with friends. I barely understood the war politics, but that intro song? Burned into memory.
And when I was thinking of a title for this post, it came straight back.
“I want them to turn black.”
Now relax. Big wink. Huge pun intended.
Today we’re talking about avocados. Why avocados turn brown (or black) when you open them. And why we need to stop treating them like stress balls in the supermarket.
The Avocado Abuse Rant, with Love
You know the situation. You’re standing in the fruit and veg aisle. You’re already dreaming about guacamole, toast, salad, maybe a silky dressing. You gently pick up an avocado.
Soft? No.
Mushy? Yes.
Bruised like it survived a boxing match? Absolutely.
Every single one feels like Charlie Watts did a drum solo on them.
Who are these people? Why are we squeezing avocados like we’re checking tire pressure?
They’re not baseballs.
They’re not therapy balls.
They are delicate, living produce that took months to grow.
And here’s the thing that bothers me most: All that squeezing?
It damages the cells inside.
It speeds up browning.
It wastes food.
So yes. This is me, politely but firmly asking: Stop man-handling the avocados.
Thank you.
So… Why Avocados Turn Brown?
Now let’s hold science by the hand for a second.
When you cut open an avocado, you break its cell walls. Inside those cells lives an enzyme called polyphenol oxidase. The moment oxygen hits it, a reaction starts. Oxidation.
That reaction turns certain compounds into brown pigments.
It’s not rot.
It’s not poison.
It’s not the avocado taking revenge.
It’s chemistry.
Bruising works similarly. When you squeeze too hard, you damage the internal structure. Oxygen gets in where it shouldn’t. Browning starts from the inside.
And no, it doesn’t turn brown the second you blink. That’s dramatic internet exaggeration. But yes, once exposed to air, the clock starts ticking.
A little lemon juice slows it down because the acidity interferes with that enzymatic reaction. Science is kind of beautiful when you understand it. And now you know why avocados turn brown.
A Little Love for the Fruit Itself
Let’s also acknowledge something. An avocado is technically a berry. A fatty, creamy, nutrient-dense berry.
It’s rich in healthy monounsaturated fats, especially oleic acid, which supports heart health. It’s packed with fiber, potassium (more than bananas, by the way), and vitamins like K, E, C, and several B vitamins.
But beyond the health buzzwords, what makes it special is texture.
It’s butter without being butter.
It’s creamy without dairy.
It carries flavor.
It balances acidity.
It softens spice.
That’s not hype.
That’s functionality.
Caribbean Memory and Wild Avocados
When I lived in the Caribbean, avocado trees grew everywhere. Not farmed in neat rows. Just… there.
Wild. Big. Sometimes slightly more bitter. Deep flavor.
They didn’t always turn brown as quickly either. Different varieties. Different growing conditions. Nature doing its thing.
I used to grow seedlings from the pits. Let them sprout. Let them grow. And then I’d give them away to friends to plant in their yards.
Here’s something most people don’t realize: Avocados don’t ripen on the tree. You can leave them hanging there for months. They only start ripening once picked. Nature built in patience. Maybe we should learn something from that.
How to Check an Avocado, without Ruining Them
Please read this carefully.
Do not squeeze the sides.
Instead:
Gently press near the stem area.
If it yields slightly, it’s ripe.
If it’s rock hard, give it time.
To speed up ripening:
Place it next to a banana. Bananas release ethylene gas, which encourages ripening.
To slow down browning:
Keep the pit in.
Add lemon or lime juice.
Wrap tightly.
Limit oxygen exposure.
Knowledge prevents waste.
Classic, Comfort, and Slightly Weird Pairings
Let’s have some fun.
The classics:
• Guacamole
• Avocado toast
• Sushi
• Salads
• Smoothies
Reliable. Loved. Instagram-approved.
Now the fun part:
• Avocado with dark chocolate and sea salt
• Avocado blended into cacao mousse
• Grilled avocado halves with chili and honey
• Avocado with shrimp and mango
• Avocado on pizza (yes, after baking)
• Avocado with feta and watermelon
• Avocado in a spicy peanut dressing
• Avocado with… coffee? (Okay, maybe not. Or maybe.)
It’s neutral but rich. That’s a powerful combination.
A Small Thought About Obsession
I love avocados. But I also believe in seasonality.
When something is everywhere, all the time, endlessly demanded, something usually pays the price. Nature works in cycles. Availability creates appreciation.
When you don’t have it every single day, you respect it more when you do. Just something to think about.
Before You Slice the Next One
Handle it gently.
Understand why it browns.
Appreciate how long it took to grow.
Respect the hands and nature behind it.
Food responds to care. And honestly? So do people.
So next time you’re in the supermarket…
Don’t squeeze the life out of it.
Treat it with love.
Let it ripen in its own time.
And when you finally cut it open
Maybe then… you can let it turn black.
With respect.
Tell me:
Are you team simple avocado toast?
Or team weird experiment?
And please… promise me you’ll stop drumming on them in the produce aisle.
Stay ripe,
Yohan