I, too, have heard tell of the Indian mango. Even though India grows way over 140 varieties of mangoes, I believe we're talking about the Alphonso variety—also known, in India, as "food of the gods" and "the king of mangoes." Being from a harsh and northerly clime, as we are here in Minnesota, we may suspect any such joyous and hyperbolic sentiments, especially when they refer to tropical fruits that for logistical reasons may never pass our lips. Nevertheless, I love mangoes more than I love being suspicious and skeptical, and so I can heartily say in response to those claims that I believe it, and I hope it's true, and I join you in wanting to know where we can get our hands on one.
Sadly, mangoes are a pretty difficult crop to import, and for a lot of reasons. If they were easier to get into our store I would personally put intense pressure on our buying staff to get whatever new and exotic varieties they could find. One of the original reasons the United States did not import mangoes from India in the past remains the same: the pesticides used by some growers were not accepted by US standards. So though we do allow these pesticides now, apparently, you and I can still make our own decisions about whether we want to consume them. Pesticides aren't tasty; but mangoes are. What to do, what to do?
There is also the topic of the Mediterranean fruit fly, which must be dealt with in some fashion. This destructive critter is insanely packing his bags, gathering his family and stowing away in every piece of fresh produce that is shipped from places much hotter, wetter, and tropical than ours. It's not a big deal for Minnesota; we don't grow that kind of fruit here, and even a fruit fly with a thorax of steel would perish in our winter. But rules are rules and so at present, most mangoes from India are also irradiated. If we could find some organic Alphonso mangoes, we'd be in business. The organically accepted manner of imported fruit-fly destruction is a boiling water bath akin to pasteurization. It can, to some degree, lessen the fruit's quality or pose potential ripening problems—but so can irradiation, and between you and me, I prefer the water treatment. Once again, to retain some humility: cold northerly clime vs. lush tropical fruits. It is a marvelous work of human ingenuity and determination that they should be in our hands at all.
I spoke with Rick Christianson, head buyer at Co-op Partners Warehouse in St. Paul, our primary produce supplier. He said that he hasn't seen any of these mangoes on the market yet, organic or otherwise, but that he'll keep his ear to the ground for us. If you are dying of curiosity in the meantime, you would probably have some success in finding a product made with Alphonso mango puree—particularly if it's some kind of beverage or mango product imported from India. It is the mango predominantly used for processing abroad.
Of course nothing compares to a fresh, peeled mango. Luckily we are not even remotely down-and-out here at the Wedge. Mango season, which starts in late February and often runs through May is upon us and soon we will have at least three mangoes to choose from. There will be that infamous stunner, the Champagne mango (officially titled Ataulfo mango) which is no slouch on the global mango scene. Sweet and tangy, with a unique and musky undercurrent, these mangoes are delicious. What really makes them stand out is their luscious and satiny texture. You can't believe fruit can be so smooth—a Champagne mango can make a ripe honeydew melon seem grainy and a ripe summer peach stringy. It's like 450-thread-count sheets for your tongue. Smooth.
Like a Champagne mango amped up with honey and apricots, and much juicier, is the Francique mango from Haiti. This large, flat, golden, kidney-shaped mango holds in it nectar so sweet you can hear bees buzzing. They are excellent for juicing and smoothies, but unlike the smoothness of their cohort, these mangoes are usually the most fibrous mango we carry. If you are a die hard mango fan, though, these are even good for chewing on if you won't mind the drippy sticky mess. For extra fun to that end, share one with the two-to-five year-old in your life. It would give you an idea of the inhibition-to-pleasure ratio you're looking for when enjoying these.
My favorite domestically available mango, however, remains the Keitt variety. This is a larger-than-average mango, usually weighing in somewhere between 1.5 - 3 pounds. Unlike its more common cousin, the Tommy Atkins mango (which we usually carry year-round), Keitt mangoes do not change in color as they ripen; instead they stay a deep green with red markings around the stem end. They are ripe when they yield to gentle pressure, and they win my all-around mango award. Finely flavored, it tastes of a luxurious cross between honey and tropical flowers (think sweet, fragrant, like Jasmine or Lotus). The juice is a milky golden nectar that will run down your arm if you are eating the fruit out of hand, or pool into the indentations your teeth leave on the fruit. The texture is Colorado peach-like and quite dense without being stringy. You can look for these Keitt mangoes towards the end of the season, mid to late spring.
Whatever mango you choose, the next month or two is the time to be eating them. Fresh and abundant, they are a tropical treasure for folks living in a climate that is anything but. Feel free to ask any of your Wedge produce staff to help you identify types and qualities of the mangoes we carry, we're happy to help you find one you'll fall for.