Common thoughts by the commoner about the uncommon mango

I call the mango uncommon because in our part of the world it is known as the king of fruit. I had to do some research about mangoes hence I had to talk to my friends and family so I guess my whole article today is basically their thougts mingled with some of my own.

Any one who grew up in the subcontinent knows that summer is all about mangoes. Mango parties, eating them by the canals and specially eating them during the monsoon rains getting soaked. I still dream about biting into the luscious silky soft flesh and tasting the sweet sweet nectar. I have searched high and low for mango varieties from Pakistan here but have always been disappointed. The mexican mango does not quite compare to the more flavorful and sweet Pakistani variety.

I personally believe the right way to eat a mango starts with buying the right mango. For that one needs to go to the big farmers markets and haggle with the farmers. Once the right price has been negotiated the big carats are loaded into the back of the car and bought home, where the mangoes are packed with ice in steel buckets. Ideally every one would plan and all our extended family would pile into cars sitting one on top of the other and head to the Lahore Canal, where we would sit by the banks with our feet dangling into the cool flowing water. The men usually would jump right into the cold waters and start splashing every one whilst the women out of modest requirement sat under the pepal and safayeda trees with their shalwars hitched up. Each one would be issued a mango and we would progress to soften the flesh by kneeding it with our hands and than bite off the top and suck everything out. I can still taste the yummy goey deliciousness. The slight tang of the fruit, the juice would drip down the mouth and at the end we would all have yellow beards and sticky hands.

The next ideal method of eating Aam (mango) was to enjoy it during the torrential monsoons. All of us would come out with all our clothes on and bathe in the cool showers while mom would hand us the mangoes which we would relish. Monsoons, have a kind of magic associated to them in my mind I used to think it was something every country in the world experienced so when I moved to the USA I was quite disappointed for there was no intense heat where I lived and no cool monsoon.

However back to the subject of Mangoes, I think there is only one method of eating a mango which is sucking it but others seem to disagree. They say eating a mango is dependent on the type of mango, if its a tapka you suck it. Anwar Ratols can also be sucked. But langra, doosairi, sindhri are to be cut up and eaten. Some people enjoy cutting the fruit in half and scooping out the flesh, while others just cut it up into flanks with the skins on and eat the fruit off the skin. While still some would go to the trouble of removing all the skin and chopping it into small peices and eating it with a fork. This latter method is employed by people who have little love for the fruit and too much show shaw. Lahori's will tell you that when it comes to the mango one has to just hitch up ones sleeves and dig in, minimum hassle= maximum reward.

Mango seasons also result in mango parties, which have mango ice creams, buckets and buckets of mango fruit and little else. In such times kids are found running around in under wears to minimize sticky clothes. I remember the mango parties we had at our place back home, one in particulat was some ones birthday and all my uncles and aunts were wearing comical hats as they sucked and chewed on delicious, juicy juicy mangoes. The juice dripped over their hands and would make puddles on their plates if they were lucky to be carrying some or on the floor.

I feel my life in Pakistan was entwined with mangoes a lot of my childhood memories revolve around it, perhaps because it was in season during the summer when school was out. My my grandfather had mango trees in his garden and we would go and climb and collect the kachi ambiz (unripe mangoes) eat it with lots of salt and red chillies the sour flavor would make our mouths pucker but we wont let up until we had soar throats and ended up with a hoarse voice.

During the mango season mom would make achar in big clay martabans and we would have kachi keri ke chutni with missi ki roti and sometimes with aloo parathas also. My aunt would make methi aam ki chutney which we would enjoy with daals and parathas. I can still smell the unriped mangoes while mom pounded it with green chilies and salt to make the chutney the heady smell would waft on the sluggish hot breeze though the veranda as the mortar and prestel would go thud, thak , thud thak......