There are meals that make perfect sense where you’re eating them. Fish tacos in San Diego. Pasta al pesto in Genova. Borscht in Budapest.

And then there’s fish tacos in Borgo Val di Taro, population small-enough-that-your-produce-guy-knows-your-avocado-timeline.

The fixings bowl came together beautifully: shredded red cabbage, green onions, fresh tomatoes, and cilantro, asiago cheese* and a hot pepper. And one perfect avocado.

*Okay – I know – asiago isn’t really a Mexican cheese, but hey – this is small town Apennine living.

About that avocado. The secret is deceptively simple: on Monday, you tell your produce guy you need it for Thursday. That’s it. No more standing in the produce aisle doing the squeeze-and-pray. No more cutting into something that is either a rock or a black hole. You outsource the guesswork to someone who actually knows his fruit, and on Thursday you have an avocado that is esattamente right.

I cannot stress enough how much this has improved my quality of life.

The unexpected stars of the meal, though, were the strawberries. Local, this week, €3.80 a cestino or €6 for two. My produce guy — clearly a man who understands human psychology as well as he understands ripeness — had me taste one before I’d said a word.

Reader, I bought two baskets.

They were the kind of strawberries that remind you that a strawberry is supposed to taste like something.

Fish tacos topped with a creamy, spicy sauce. Local Italian strawberries. Thursday evening in the Apennines.

La vita è bella.