Through some deeply fortunate happenstance of international shipping, the avocados at my local supermarket arrive daily with a ripeness so sublime as to bring a tear to your eye. My relationship to avocados in their native California was one of frustration. Invariably, I would bring home an inedibly firm specimen and resolve to remember to make use of it during the short window one or two days hence when it would achieve peak deliciosity, only to suffer a bout of culinary neglect that left me scraping the oxidized brown chunks from the edible remains and resolving to strengthen my resolve the next time. To experience the satisfaction of bringing home a ripe, tender avocado and incorporating into a delicious meal right then and there is a luxury I will sorely miss.