On the Alfonso Mango

I think it’s fairly obvious that I like food and have a certain enthusiasm for it. But there is something about truly seasonal foods, primarily fruits and veg, which in my mind gives them a special place in my food world. Asparagus, cherries, blackberries, tomatoes (the home grown kind), English apples (there are seriously good apples in this country) are all eagerly anticipated and very much enjoyed by me and my family. I seriously considered naming this blog “Blackberry Mango” in honour of two fruits whose seasons I await with ridiculous levels of excitement.

Just waiting to be unveiled

This brings me onto the Alfonso mango. We’re not talking any old mango that you can find in supermarkets year round and that may or may not ripen in your fruit bowl. This is the smallish, yellow on the outside bright orange on the inside mango from India that starts to appear in UK specialist shops (Asian grocers or some greengrocers) toward the end of April and disappears by the end of June. Mangoes that are so fragrant before you even peel them that they make your kitchen smell sweet. Can you tell I like them? Shall I enthuse more?

Before I continue, I should say that we do try to eat seasonally, and local food wherever possible. I can’t wait for produce from our allotment to be ready so that I can stop buying vegetables for a while (and I’m happy to report that the broad bean plants are now about 5cm high, and the purple sprouting broccoli is ready and waiting for us to eat it). However, it has probably occurred to you that mangoes are not fruits that are local to the UK, or Europe even. Nope, they’re definitely a tropical fruit, grown nowhere even remotely close to the UK. But in the middle of the “hungry gap”, after a long depressing winter, I figure there’s nothing wrong with indulging in these wonderful fruits if given the opportunity. They give you the mental fortitude to keep going until the local stuff arrives. And it’s still seasonal eating – it’s just that the season happens to be in a completely different part of the world…

Anyway, generally toward the end of March/beginning of April I start dedicating far too much mind space to the mangoes, wondering when I’ll be able to indulge in my first taste of the year. I try not to build my hopes up, knowing that they may not appear until May, but starting sometime in mid April I find reasons to visit the local Asian grocer – such as just stopping by to pick up some chick peas or semolina flour and see if the mangoes happen to be in… Ok, it’s a bit of an obsession. I stopped by last week and it was too early. I knew that in the back of my mind but just thought I’d check. Then the other day I was rushing around trying to visit 5 different shops to buy ingredients for an event on the weekend before rushing home to go swimming with the family, and I really did have to stop by the Asian grocer. I actually didn’t have THE mangoes at the forefront of my mind because I was too busy thinking ahead to what I needed to buy and wondering if I’d really get to the swimming pool on time. I walked in the shop, glanced at the place where the mangoes would be if they were there… and they were there. I almost did a dance of joy right there and then. I reverently knelt down and just looked at them. The lady at the checkout saw what I was doing and got this big smile on her face. “You like the mangoes then?” she said. “Like them? I wait all year for these!!” I said rather too enthusiastically. I put one box of 6 into my basket, very quickly gathered up the rest of the things I needed, then put another box of mangoes in the basket because I just knew one wouldn’t be enough. I was so excited about the mangoes that I completely forgot about the last stop I had to make as I rushed home to tell the family. They share my enthusiasm for them, though perhaps not to the same level – that would be difficult!

I love the bits of shredded paper they're packed in

I can’t remember what we had for dinner that night even though it was only a few days ago. But I do remember the mangoes we had afterwards. I cut up 3 of them (I will admit that I then took a few minutes to suck the remaining fruit off the pit), put the pieces into a bowl and brought the bowl and four forks into the dining room. I think they lasted all of about 3 minutes and that is no exaggeration. I cannot tell you how great they tasted. This is not a delicate, understated sort of taste. This is a fruity explosion that takes over your mouth and chases all the clouds away leaving nothing but full on mangoey sunshine on your tongue and a big smile. I can so understand why the Indians refer to these mangoes as “the king of fruits/fruits for a king”.

They're almost unnaturally orange inside

The thing about a good mango is that you don’t need to dress it up or add anything to it at all. However, that doesn’t stop me from going a bit mango crazy in terms of my cooking when given the opportunity. The boy loves smoothies in the morning and I am not going to turn down the chance to get some fruit into him so we have smoothies quite often. In the winter we make do with frozen fruit. But fresh mango smoothies disappear at lightning speed and even the girl, who loves fruit but doesn’t love smoothies, will have some. Mango and strawberry smoothies (if you catch the end of the mango season and beginning of the strawberry one) are rather good too. Mango ice cream – mmmm. Time to put the ice cream cylinder into the freezer! Mango, lime and coriander salsa is great with fish or chicken. And something I make for some of our clients, and have included the recipe below, is pavlova with lime cream and fresh alfonso mangoes. The pavlova is both crunchy and mallowy. The cream is, well, creamy with a nice hit of lime, and the sweetness of the mango really complements the lime and also adds some gorgeous colour to it all. I just happen to have some spare egg whites at home so think I just might have to make one this weekend… I love happy coincidences like that!

For those of you in parts of the world where you can’t perhaps get Alfonso mangoes, do not despair! I was in Vancouver last year at this time and there was a Mexican variety called Ataulfo mango that was similar and also very very good. We went through at least a dozen of those during our 10 day visit. I imagine you can get that type in many places in North America. And I’ve seen Philippine mangoes of the same ilk that are also comparable. Both of these are bigger than the Alfonso mango, but are both sort of mid-yellow on the outside, bright orange on the inside, and longish with a flat stone inside. And just juicy and delicious!

Over the next two months I will be indulging in large quantities of both asparagus and mangoes. The idea is to eat so much of it that come the end of their respective seasons I’ve had so much that I can wait – just – until they come around again next year. Or at least that’s how I justify my shameless mango & asparagus related gluttony. I will be visiting the Indian grocer again next week, and today will be ringing the local farm to find out when we can go and pick asparagus. Spring is here!

Sunshine on a plate

Pavlova with Alfonso Mangoes and Lime Cream

This is a great one to make with kids because kids love making meringue (and getting it in their hair) and also appear to be quite fond of whipped cream. At least my kids are! It’s not meant to be a perfect, polished looking thing, but rather something you’re not afraid to dip your spoon into immediately! You can also make individual pavlovas instead of 1 big one. Mini, bite-sized ones are great too – in that case use a piping bag to shape the meringues.

There are 4 steps to making this pavlova and should be done in this order:

1. Make the lime curd
2. Make the pavlova
3. Make the lime cream
4. Cut up the mangoes and assemble

If you can buy a decent lime curd, by all means do so and move directly to the second step.

Lime Curd

Adapted from The Cake Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum

• 4 large or 5 medium egg yolks
• 100g (1/2 cup) sugar
• 85ml fresh lime juice (juice of about 3 limes)
• 57g unsalted butter
• Pinch of salt
• Zest of limes used above

In a heavy, non-corrodible saucepan mix together egg yolks and sugar until well blended. Save the egg whites for your pavlova.

Zest the limes and set the zest aside, then add the lime juice, salt and butter to the saucepan. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly with a whisk until thickened and resembling a thin hollandaise sauce. When done it should thickly coat the back of a wooden spoon but be thin enough to pour. IT MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO BOIL or it will curdle. When the curd has thickened pour it at once through a strainer into a clean bowl or container. Press with the back of a spoon until only the coarse bits of cooked egg yolk remain. Stir in the lime zest and cool in fridge.

Pavlova

Adapted from Rick Stein’s Food Heroes.

• 6 egg whites
• 350g caster sugar
• 2 tsp cornflour
• 1 tsp white wine vinegar (red or sherry will do in a pinch and won’t change the flavour or colour)

Preheat oven to 140 degrees Celsius. Line 1-2 large baking trays with greaseproof paper/baking parchment. You’ll need one tray if making one big pavlova, and 2 trays if making smaller ones.

Whip the egg whites and salt until still peaks form. Gradually add the sugar and whip until the meringue is stiff and shiny. Add the cornflour and vinegar and beat until combined.

To make one large pavlova, use a spatula to put all the meringue onto your tray. Shape into a circle or oval and make an indentation in the middle. You want your meringue to have a raised rim and a well in the centre for the filling. If making individual ones, using a spoon make 8-12 small meringues. Again, make a well in the centre for the filling. Leave plenty of space between them because they will spread when baking.

Bake large pavlova for about 90 minutes. Bake smaller ones for 45 minutes. Cool in oven with the door slightly ajar.

Lime Cream

• 500ml double or whipping cream
• 250ml lime curd

Put your bowl and beater(s) into the fridge. When cold, whip the cream until you can just see the beater marks in it. Add the lime curd and whip until soft peaks form. You want floppy rather than very stiff cream. It will be just the palest yellow with green flecks in it.

To assemble, put the cream on top of the pavlova. Don’t make it too smooth or perfect looking. Peel 3 mangoes and remove the flesh from the stone. Chop up the mango flesh into chunks of about 1cm and put on top of the cream.

Serves 8-12, depending on appetites and whether you go for individual or family style pavlova.