MANGOES - PARADISE BY ANY OTHER NAME
By Earl Durham

I was an 8 year old San Diego river/bay fishing scamp and part time elementary school attendee when our third grade teacher, Miss Lovely, commissioned the individual members of the class to write an essay about any Latin American country. The carrot-on-the-stick for consenting to Miss Lovely’s mandatory request was a passing mark, and hence, probable advancement to the 4th grade. No sweat — piece of cake — taking into account that English Composition was the perennial favorite for at least 2 % of the entire student body. My essay was entitled “Guatemala,” nice little, sedate Guatemala. No sprawling, Texas-sized coffee plantations to write about, no isthmus spanning big ship canals, no giant industry in supplying white fedoras to wiseguys and midtown contract agents, and no pampa riding Gauchos who chased wild cattle and devoured haunches of beef on the hairy hide, roasted over roaring bonfires. In fact, the only thing I recall from that laborious research is a vision, indelibly etched in my mind forever, of a single, glossy color photograph of glorious and sumptious, beautifully contoured, smooth and rounded, provacatively sensuous, enticingly tropical MANGOES, hanging from gorgeous long leaved trees, somewhere in a lush Guatemalan orchard. Thus began a lifelong love affair, an intense yearning to possess what I believed was concrete evidence of God’s original intent to withold from folks an enticement most divine, also unobtainable (at least in the San Diego), and therefore the true Forbidden Fruit of Eden. Obviously, whoever nominated the Red Delicious Apple was out of his/her tree! In dreams, I picked the mango, smelled the exotic tropical aroma, caressed its skin, and tasted the juicy, intensely delicious and succulent sweetness of the Forbidden Fruit. 1947, and the family moved to Kaneohe Naval Air Station on the island of Oahu, Territory of Hawaii, the rural windward side of the island where existed a virtual cornucopia of exotic tropical treats, fresh Pineapple, Papaya, abundant bananas, coconuts, Starfruit, Breadfruit (ugh !), and finally, but finally, mangoes — mangoes so heavenly satisfying as when a single bite produced riveluts of sweetness to cascade down both sides of

your chin. Alas, I discovered life isn’t always fair. Kids in Honolulu picked their mangoes off the thousands of trees that several bottles of Major Grey’s Chutney. Presently, dear reader, you just happen to be sitting / reclining/ relaxing/ luxuriating, sunning or beaching in the very epicenter of “Mango Paradise,” also known as Sinaloa, the world’s largest mango exporter, with a bumper crop this year estimated at 400 thousand tons. Now’s the time! Mangoes are in —succulent, plentiful, and really good for you as they are packed with vitamins and minerals (potassium and beta carotene). You can make some wickedly delicious, delightfully tempting things with mangoes, bananas (the short, stubby Dominico ones), pineapple (the small ones, called “miel”), tender fresh coconut, ice cubes, a blender, and rum. The same ingredients (sans rum), sweetened condensed milk, half-and-half, and an ice cream freezer, and you’ll never darken the entrance to Baskin Robbins again. Of course, mangoes are best eaten “au natural,” peeled, on a stick, with squeezed lime juice, salt, or ground chili. Select mangoes that are firm, without excessive brown mottling or wrinkled skin. The milky white juice at the stem of a fresh mango is toxic (as are mango leaves), so be sure to wash them before peeling. Mangoes should be ripened at room temperature, or place two of them in a paper bag for accelerated ripening. Mangoes are also a rare bargain. During years past, vendors on the road to Tepic have sold 100 pound bags of Pariso Mangoes for 40 pesos. copiously lined the streets, highways, and rutted alleys. Entire neighborhoods appeared to be paved with discarded mango seeds baking in the sun, so prodigious they covered all evidence of asphalt streets and concrete sidewalks. In Kaneohe, however, mangoes were 20 cents each and that’s when shaved ice cones, cokes, and candy bars were a nickel, movies were a dime, and the butcher sold T-Bone steaks for a quarter. Back to San Diego and another 40 year mango drought while our friendly U.S. Department of Agriculture banned importation of what is widely regarded as nature’s perfect food. The banana is in second place. India, where mangoes originated, is the world´s biggest producer of mangoes, but the Indians judiciously eat the entire crop, except for what is exported with

 

 

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