I'm not sure who invented the stuffed avocado, but I'm 99% sure they had just smoked some impactful pot. Who else would take an avocado -- one of the rare plant edibles that requires zero enhancement -- and spoon cheese inside of it? Then FRY it? Obviously, an enterprising, very high Austinite.
Hula Hut has always been a fan of that great culinary democratizer, the deep fryer. They put it to especially good use here, with their chicken and cheese-filled deep fried avocado. The cheese could be imported Gruyere, or it could be a bag of shredded avocado you buy at the grocery store -- I can't tell. But it doesn't matter. Fat-on-fat flavor combinations like these are sometimes too overwhelming and exciting to parse out the details.
Trudy's claims to be the patron saint of many things -- the Mexican Martini, for example -- but while they are not the inventor of the stuffed avocado, they've certainly perfected the form. Theirs is totally beloved, to which I credit the chicken: moist and stringy (rather than chunky) it's the right texture when you're a little hungover and your motor skills aren't quite cutlery-ready.
At least one stuffed avocado on this list had to include bacon, right? Tres Amigos' includes that, chicken, and onions, is tossed into the fryer, then topped -- steady now -- with QUESO. Arteries, prepare to meet your match.
It's a classic, but Maudie's eschews the ol' chicken-and-cheese model of stuffed avocado. Despite its menu title this avocado is more deconstructed than "stuffed," covered with whole, charred shrimp, pico de gallo, and two kinds of dairy (poblano cream sauce and shredded Jack cheese). One of the best examples of how far the stuffed avocado filling can, and should, go.
Roaring Fork makes a creamy, seafood-laced version of the Stuffed Avocado, filled with crab then flash-fried to fattening perfection.
For an ever-so-slightly spicier stuffed avocado, order the deep-fried (seeing a theme here?) version at Doc's Backyard, which is spiked with tomatillos.