Philippine mango, as eaten by me on Panglao Island, off the coast of Bohol."The Mangos in the Philippines are the best in the world. End of discussion." -- Lonely Planet Philippines, 2009
The first time I came to the Philippines, back in June, I arrived in my hotel room to the sight of two Mangoes, laid out on a platter next to a knife, spoon, and white linen napkin. I ate them, and they were very good. I promptly called down to order two more. A deep love of Mangos runs in my family.
I showed up at work the next day, still abuzz with the pleasure of finally being in a country where one can get decent mangos. "Ha!," Sameer, my Indian colleague, scoffed at me. Philippine mangoes are no match for what you can get in India. Eager at the opportunity to get into a conversation about mangos, I proceeded to talk of my days working in Hyderabad in May, during the peak season of the Alfonso, India's best known mango. "Ha!" Sameer scoffed again. By endorsing the Alfonso, I had revealed how little I really knew of the world and it's mangos.
When I arrive back to Manila from the States a few weeks ago, Sameer was also just arriving back from his home. We went about our work for the day, and then, as we were packing up to head back to the hotel, he paused. "Oh! I nearly forgot!" He reached into his laptop case and produced a brown paper envelope, stapled shut, ripely fragrant.
"These are what we had lying around the house." The saint had brought two of India's finest, from his own collection, grown in Sameer's native Punjab, and in season this time of year. They burst forth with flavor, and later that night filled my entire hotel room with the most delightful, fresh aroma. The texture was a bit stringy, I had to floss afterward, but it was well worth it.
Any connoisseur of world class, ripe mangos must make a trade off between texture and flavor, and the Indians, bless them will take flavor any time. Filipinos, with their tastes running milder all 'round, have opted to cultivate for texture. The flesh of the better specimens, of which we had many, was every bit as silky as a flan, and shone a delightful orange-yellow. They could run a bit sour if under ripe, but I didn't mind; it merely added bite.
But, my verdict? The Indian mangos. What can I say. Chambra videshi hai, dil bhartia hai.*
*My skin is that of a foreigner, but my heart is pure Indian
The first time I came to the Philippines, back in June, I arrived in my hotel room to the sight of two Mangoes, laid out on a platter next to a knife, spoon, and white linen napkin. I ate them, and they were very good. I promptly called down to order two more. A deep love of Mangos runs in my family.
I showed up at work the next day, still abuzz with the pleasure of finally being in a country where one can get decent mangos. "Ha!," Sameer, my Indian colleague, scoffed at me. Philippine mangoes are no match for what you can get in India. Eager at the opportunity to get into a conversation about mangos, I proceeded to talk of my days working in Hyderabad in May, during the peak season of the Alfonso, India's best known mango. "Ha!" Sameer scoffed again. By endorsing the Alfonso, I had revealed how little I really knew of the world and it's mangos.
When I arrive back to Manila from the States a few weeks ago, Sameer was also just arriving back from his home. We went about our work for the day, and then, as we were packing up to head back to the hotel, he paused. "Oh! I nearly forgot!" He reached into his laptop case and produced a brown paper envelope, stapled shut, ripely fragrant.
"These are what we had lying around the house." The saint had brought two of India's finest, from his own collection, grown in Sameer's native Punjab, and in season this time of year. They burst forth with flavor, and later that night filled my entire hotel room with the most delightful, fresh aroma. The texture was a bit stringy, I had to floss afterward, but it was well worth it.
Any connoisseur of world class, ripe mangos must make a trade off between texture and flavor, and the Indians, bless them will take flavor any time. Filipinos, with their tastes running milder all 'round, have opted to cultivate for texture. The flesh of the better specimens, of which we had many, was every bit as silky as a flan, and shone a delightful orange-yellow. They could run a bit sour if under ripe, but I didn't mind; it merely added bite.
But, my verdict? The Indian mangos. What can I say. Chambra videshi hai, dil bhartia hai.*
*My skin is that of a foreigner, but my heart is pure Indian
5 comments:
When I was in Thailand I wrote to a nutritionist friend and jokingly asked, "Is it possible to OD on mangoes?"
She responded that, actually, you can get Vitamin A overload (or something like that) which will result in sores inside your mouth. So that explained the sores inside my mouth.
To be fair, I was eating three or four mangoes a day.
My grandfather, in his youth, was hospitalized for eating too many bananas. He was on a boat for a day or two with nothing but bananas, which sometimes happens.
thank God you saw the light. as I read the quote of LP, I was deeply enraged and disturbed and felt that I would have to ship you a box. Much thanks to Sameer!!!!!
It does happen! Maybe. Never to me.
Apparently Christopher Walken ate only bananas and rice for the final week before filming the last scene in The Deer Hunter - the Russian Roulette scene where he looks all hollow and crazy.
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