Mango mania

Come January and one starts to notice little white flowers, peeping out from the dense foliage of mango trees. They seemed to reassure the departure of frost and welcome the spring which would later wither into a great Indian summer. These little flowers also hold promises of greater pleasures sweet or sour.

Not too long ago, most yards around Indian homes would shelter at least one if not more mango trees. We grew up accepting this tree and its fruit as a granted aspect of everyday living. The canopy that threw a blanket of shade under which children could play in the sunniest of afternoons, strong branches that supported swings, dense greenery of the leaves where parrots played hide and seek, and the sweet anticipation of the fruit, once the blossoms begin to show.

These days, I point out a mango tree to my four year old, for her to comprehend that her favourite fruit is born to this beautifully green tree. Yet I wouldn’t be surprised, if anyone asks her “where do you get mangoes from?” and if she replies “from the super market”. What was taken for as granted by one generation is today preserved by another and what was a dream to attain has become a natural privilege.

But I doubt if there is anyone in any generation so far, born Indian, who has not relished the fruit of this tree. From mid march onwards one gets glimpses of this fruit in the market; initially expensive and in small quantities. But as the season progresses the abundance of the fruit is visible at every market corner and home.

Every year as the season begins I hear murmurs and ‘tch tch’ about how there has been a slack in crop and prices have shot up. But all evidence of gluttony, even in times of inflation, finally finds its way out of almost every Indian home in the form of peels and the lone mango seed each of which would have been thoroughly sucked clean of its identity.

Least ashamed am I to say, that my family and I share a major part in this gastronomical act of relishing the mango. It begins with the sinduri, moves on to the mallika, malgoa, and banganapali, and of course the treat from north in the form of a langra.

To cut a mango, whichever variety, after every meal during the mango season is a rule in my house and as the abundance of it starts to overwhelm and eventually begin to let go of its hold over the taste buds, I start experimenting with it till a shriek of ‘no more’ resounds in my head, by which time the shades of yellow that had filled the market stalls and hand carts have begun to fade.

It is during one such experimenting spree that I discovered a divine mango salsa. This when served along roasted meat or vegetables and bread seemed to explode in the mouth.

1. Chop one ripe and full of flavour mango into fine dices
2. Crush two pods of garlic, in a mortar until smooth and mix with it half a teaspoon of chilli flakes, two tablespoons of lemon juice and two tablespoons of olive oil.
3. Add to the dressing one teaspoon of finely chopped coriander, and one teaspoon of finely chopped chives.
4. Mix the above together, check for seasoning and serve with chips as a dip or alongside a meal to complement it.