An Avocado Junket Is Far from the Pits

The Lamb Family with the California Avocado Staff | Photo: George Yatchisin

Avocado Commission poster in the lobby | Photo: George Yatchisin

I was somewhere around Camarillo, on the edge of the Conejo Grade, when the avocados began to take hold. This was late April, and I was one of “a diverse mix of journalists, content creators, and retail and foodservice professionals from across the Western United States.” At least that’s how the California Avocado Commission described us in their attractively presented Briefing Book. We were all on a junket to learn to love Big Green.

It seems everyone/thing needs representation these days. If Clooney and Saldaña need agents, why not Persea americana, in particular those from California (just grown from San Diego to Monterey)? The more-than-100-year-old nonprofit California Avocado Commission hypes its fruit as fresh and local, sustainably grown and ethically sourced, seasonal, and sure to bring that creaminess avo-heads crave. Another reason the association is needed: Even though California is on target to produce 375 million pounds of avocado this bumper-crop year — a figure that would be the equivalent weight of more than 31 million electric guitars, or a million giant kangaroos, a species thankfully extinct for eons — Mexico will produce two billion pounds of avos.

Putting a self-admitted avocado junkie like me on an avocado junket is akin to giving Sid Vicious a pre-signed doctor’s prescription pad, but even I almost cried uncle. Every hosted meal offered another take on avo-ness, from a California avocado banana parfait at breakfast to lemon and herb risotto cakes with California avocado crema for lunch to thinly sliced California avocados stuffed with spicy tuna and topped with a smoky yuzu ponzu sauce and black tobiko at dinner. Even the desserts brought more avocado — homey and rich California avo brownies and what was billed a California avocado chocolate mousse that didn’t seem too chocolatey, but perhaps worked better that way, as well as a white chocolate California avocado tiramisu that really needed more of its berry coulis to cut its richness.

Still, you had to hand it to Pearl District and Crawford’s Social, the restaurants in easy walking distance from our comfortable, paid-for digs at the Hyatt Regency Westlake that served a picky/wise crowd en masse. Plus, I got to hang out with cool tablemates like big deals in the Norms diner chain, an SEO writer for Allrecipes, the editor of Edible Ojai & Ventura County, and a recent Los Angeles Times journo.

The ranch barbecue lunch | Photo: George Yatchisin
White chocolate avocado tiramisu | Photo: George Yatchisin
The themed centerpiece at the Lake at Camlam | Photo: George Yatchisin

The highlight of the trip, however, was a tour and lunch at Camlam Farms, now led by sixth-generation (their family tree goes back to Juan Camarillo himself) grower Maureen Cottingham, taking over ops from her father, John Lamb, and her uncles Robert III and David. One uncle joked, “She’s into spreadsheets and we ain’t.” Cottingham comes back to the family business after leading the Sonoma Valley Vintners and Growers Alliance for many years. About that, her dad cracked, “One time, we went to Sonoma and winemakers were signing their bottles. So, I came back, got a gold pen, and did the same for some of our avocados.”

It’s definitely a farm experience, rattling about the 1,000 total acres in production, with lemons and mandarins as well as the 300 acres of avos, in a wagon pulled by a tractor, haunted-hayride style. But instead of Jason surprising us with a chainsaw around a turn, Marco appeared with his clipper, hoping to teach us how to harvest. My own fumbling attempt quickly disabused me of the slightest notion that agricultural labor is easy or mindless — harvesters carry around bags that fill at 80 pounds, but they must do so making sure not to bruise the fruit. They have to avoid tripping in animal burrows. And they have to know a fruit’s size from 20 feet away, as each pass is after a 60 or 70 or 80 — the number corresponding to how many of each fit in a 25-pound box.

Maureen Lamb-Cottingham | Photo: George Yatchisin
Avocado trees | Photo: George Yatchisin
Marco demonstrates avocado harvesting | Photo: George Yatchisin

For the record, I now know June is California Avocado Month, and more about rootstocks, prices per pound, varieties and their waxing and waning (so long, MacArthurs and Fuertes; hello, Hasses and Gems), ways to manage hilly farmland microclimates with high-powered windmills, and the power of commitment to people as well as land. “People who work here for 40 years,” Cottingham said, tearing up a bit, “they are your family.” So, thanks, Big Avo.

And I’m also proud to say, while my group did not win one of the flavor or creativity awards at the ranch’s guacamole contest, we did earn the best name prize, serving up “Wham, Bam, Thank you Lamb-a-Mole.”