Over the weekend, as the internet vented fierce joy at watching a teenage boy crack an egg on an Australian senator’s noggin, an even more hardboiled take emerged: “Please stop wasting eggs throw Shepard avocados.”

If one thing really animates Australians, it’s avocados. And as the thick, knobbly skinned Hass variety ends its season in February and the slimmer, smoother Shepard avocado appears in shops, aggrieved social media comments begin their season as well.

On 27 February, industry body Australian Avocados proudly announced the start of Shepard season on Instagram. A fierce debate ensued in the comments, where some users greeted the news with crying faces, poo emojis and sentiments such as “Noooo bring back Hass” and “Worst 6 weeks of the year”.

On Twitter, Tracey Kendall grieved: “The heartbreaking moment when Shepard avocados start to replace Hass.” For Liz Thomas, “Shepard Avocados are not Avocados. They are a pool of tears [loudly crying emoji]”, while Sortius concluded, “Shepard avocados are the worst avocados”.

My friend and colleague Matilda Dixon-Smith tweeted a cri de coeur. Matilda’s coffee had gone cold while she was texting her boyfriend to complain about Shepard season, “and seriously is there anything those green menaces can do right it’s almost not even worth having an avo at all!??????!!!!???!?!!!!!”

Perhaps such an extreme use of punctuation marks offers a clue that more than a decade of aggressive “Ave an Avo” marketing has come home to ripen. Australians now consider avocados so essential that we take for granted the supply chain needed to keep them in supermarkets and cafes all year round.

More than 80% of locally grown avocados are Hass; Shepards account for only 10%-15%. But thanks to the differences in growing seasons between Queensland, New South Wales and Western Australia, if you want fresh Australian avocado from February to April, it’ll be a Shepard. This year’s Queensland floods delayed the start of Shepard season but, in bad news for haters, about 14 million kilograms of them are expected to hit shelves this year.

Why is there such antipathy for this green-skinned Shepchild? For a start, Shepards have firmer flesh, compared with the creamy texture people expect from Hass avocados. In a nation of smashed-avo lovers, being trickier to smash is a critical failure.

But the penalty for spreadability is that the Hass is fragile. It bruises easily, and is perfectly ripe for only a short window, after which it quickly becomes disgustingly black and stringy. Tossing a Hass in a salad can smear and smoosh it, and once cut it needs to be stored carefully to stop the flesh oxidising.

Perhaps some people find Shepards “hard” and “rubbery” because the Hass’s purple-black skin offers a clearer signal it’s ready to eat. The evergreen Shepard risks being prepared too early, when it’s not fully ripe.

But the Shepard rewards patience. Once cut it stays green, keeps better in the fridge and looks nicer in guacamole, salads and sandwiches. Its firmness also makes it better for cooking in pastas, or as crumbed “chips”.

“That’s the beauty of greenskin avocados, they don’t rot like Hass,” points out Blue Sky Produce, a grower based in Mareeba in Queensland, in an Instagram photo of avocado toast: “Made from reject bin Shepard avos that if you saw them you would give them to your dog … This guacamole was made 3 days ago, still bright green!”

Retailers, who are currently sourcing their avocados from north and central Queensland, have an obvious incentive to support both Hass and Shepard. Warwick Hope, Woolworths’ merchandise manager, fruit, would not be drawn on the debate: “Locally grown Shepard avocados are really popular with our customers and [they] tell us they love the rich buttery nut flavour of Shepard avocados.”

Coles spokesman Craig Little added something interesting. “While they don’t [sell] as much as the Hass variety, their sales are growing at a much faster rate,” he told Guardian Australia, pointing out that Shepard feedback has been largely positive from customers “who enjoy the texture and the taste”.

Guardian Australia also contacted Aldi for comment but did not hear back before deadline.

I’ve been trolling the online haters by posting images of Shepard avocados with such incendiary captions as “Mmmm, Shepard avocados! The best avocados!” and “Mmmm, Shepard avocado … why people don’t like this is beyond me”.

Nobody took the bait. This makes me wonder if Shepard hatred is a genuine taste issue, like the genetic dislike for coriander, or more of a social media meme – like taking sides on whether it’s a potato cake or potato scallop.

Much as everyone knows smashed avo is not truly indexed to the home loan rate, Shepard hate is an extremely low-stakes bigotry. It’s often those little things in life that can be the most powerfully satisfying … or disappointing. Still, that’s a lot of pressure to put on one fruit. No wonder it smashes.