Tommy Aitkins has a lot to answer for in my household. His name is attributed to a variety of mango found too often in supermarkets. The colouring and shape is similar to the king of mangos, the Alphonso, but it has nothing of the flavour.
I bought an Alphonso in Paris last week. The vendor asked me what day I was planning to eat it as he felt his way gently along the row of beautifully ripe mangos. We peeled the skin off revealing perfectly ripe golden flesh which we paired with some not so fantastic strawberries for a two-fruit dessert. The taste is massive; complex, full, tangy and rich.
Expensive these may be (expect to pay around £10 a box) but they go a long way and are a seasonal treat from now until the end of June. The Alphonso warrants attention, as does the Honey Mango from Pakistan. I’d give short shrift to the Keitts mango (there are roughly a thousand varieties of mango but these are the main ones we see).
What do most people know about the mango? Not much in most instances, it’s surprisingly unknown as a fruit but has a myriad of uses. A fruit salad – resist the urge to dump too much other fruit in there – is obvious and easy (don’t forget to squeeze all the remaining flesh around the stone into your salad as juice); blend it into a seasonal juice or smoothy and charge accordingly (remember it’s a seasonal treat). It makes brilliant ice-cream and a fool of sheer style.
In India – home of the Alphonso – street vendors sell nothing else. Those in the know, which is every Indian and there are a lot of them, can be seen buying and feasting there and then, as a spring time treat. Nature’s giant, brightly coloured present.
So what does this mean for me?: An opportunity to flag up one of the most gloriously delightful seasonal sensations that is hugely healthy
Tell me what I should do: Make a sign to tell some of the above. Health and happiness in one brightly colour pared glass. Right now we need all the sunshine we can get
