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Mango madness

I drove up and down El Camino Real between Santa Clara and Sunnyvale and made four stops before I found them: Indian mangoes.

I’ve long heard rapt descriptions of the Indian fruit and this year I was determined to try some myself. The fruit, generally Alphonso mangoes, are flown here at great expense and only available in the spring. Once the rains arrive in India they’re gone. India has only been allowed to ship mangoes into the U.S. since last year because of concerns about agricultural pests. Now the fruit is irradiated and the U.S. Department of Agriculture says we’re safe. Now, restaurateurs and covetous consumers snap up cases of Alphonsos in a matter of hours.

The Indian markets of Santa Clara and Sunnyvale are a great source for the mangoes, if someone doesn’t beat you to them. At several of the markets I visited I was told they had just sold out. When I asked the lady behind the counter at New India Bazar she told me a new shipment would arrive in within an hour. So I staked the place out and waited. I went back in at the appointed time and looked around for the elusive fruit. Nothing. I asked the lady if the mangoes had arrived and she gave me a mildly suspicious look and then got on the phone and said something I couldn’t understand. A man appeared and she directed me to follow him. The mangoes must be near, I thought. I trailed him as he pushed a blue Sear’s shopping cart toward an unmarked white van. I knew I was going to meet my connection.

The mangoes arrive. Get them while they last.
Most mangoes sold in the U.S. come from Mexico and the Philippines are generally available year round. They sell for about $1 to $2 each. That’s pretty pricey fruit, but the Indian mangoes at New India Bazar were going for $4 each. They better be good, I thought, as I handed over money for a case of 12.

The precious fruit are wrapped in stretchy little foam sweaters to help prevent bruising.

Out of the box, the mangoes are beautiful ovoid orbs with a dusky yellow-green hue. They’re about one-third the size of the hulking red and green Mexican mangoes most often found in local grocery stores.

$4 beauties.

How do they taste? Good, but not $4 good.

The mangoes I tried were more intensely flavored than their Mexican counterparts. The fruit has an ambrosial sweetness and almost winey quality. As you might expect, the flavor intensifies as the fruit continues to ripen. The texture of the fruit is diffferent, too. It’s silkier, slipperier than other mangoes.

Maybe if I grew up on the India subcontinent the mangoes would have triggered some drool inducing fruit memory of my childhood, but as it was they were just really good magoes that are worth a one-time splurge.

Peel and eat.

It’s ironic and maybe even a little wrong to be hunting down air freighted Indian mangoes in an area once covered by fruit orchards. Indian mango season happens to coincide with the beginning of our cherry season, so next time I’m on El Camino Real I’m going to assuage my fruit guilt and the sasquatch-size carbon footprint left by my mango binge by stopping in at Olson’s fruit stand for a taste of some locally grown Bing, Tartarian and Ranier cherries. The fact that there’s so little locally grown fruit left makes them taste just as sweet as an Indian mango.