My man proudly makes two dishes: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (weekly) and guacamole (special occasions only). He perfected the dip preparation as an undergrad at USC, where it was called "O.V.'s Killer Guac" by some fans. Recently, pay-per-view boxing was a perfect chance for him to bust a guac move. His grace under pressure motto ("You gotta have it," he sweetly said when I was frantically preparing for guests) makes for tranquil quiet in "his" kitchen. He first mashes ten ripe avocadoes. Next comes: one diced red bell pepper, half a white onion (finely minced), lime juice, cumin, Tabasco, salt and a secret weapon of: Gilroy Garlic Dude Dust. I would add cilantro, jalapeno and tomatoes if they were in season.
The Killer Guac bowl got top billing in the center of the coffee table, next to a batch of Casa Sanchez thick tortilla chips. As the fights continued, so did the steady consumption of Killer Guac. With bellies full of beer, Scotch, soda, guac, chips, hot dogs, meringues, donuts, and chocolate truffles, it made the sting of Fernando Vargas' loss less painful.