Waiting for Mangoes
And Other Tropical Joys of the Season
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DISH: Mango Today, Pomegranate Tomorrow
I used to greet this time of year with great anticipation. Every day, I hunted for the first ripe mango of the season to celebrate as the harbinger of tropical fruit season, when not only mangoes but lychees, longans, guava, jackfruit, carambola (star fruit) and more would come in. Almost always, the first mango would be beautifully blushed and perfectly sweet, but a miniature version (see the poem below). Very quickly, though, regular size fruit would start to ripen, and exponentially, too. Within days we'd have dozens ready to pick or falling from the canopies, followed by hundreds, followed by thousands. Yes, thousands. That's what happens when you live in a house located on a historic mango grove with 11 remaining trees that are in the prime of their lives, and you're naive enough to plant three more trees to diversify the varieties. A single good producer can supply you and everyone else in the neighborhood for up to six weeks or more. But because our land was originally an orchard designed to grow commercially, we had early-, mid-, and late-season varieties. So we harvested mangoes from early May to late October. Now entering our second picking season away from Mango House, I no longer look for the first yield of the season. But the memories of each year's finds pop up on my social media feeds to remind me. I am nostalgic for Mango House. I long for the view of the treetops from my office loft, the peacefulness of the house set away from the road, the acre of land itself, which was also the homestead of the inaugural postmaster of Miami. I wouldn't have traded those two decades there for anything. It was an incredible space to raise kids in the middle of urban Miami (although they might disagree, citing the smell of the ever-cooking jam). When I say that it took my family more than a few years to convince me to leave, I'm not exaggerating. But I don't miss the mangoes falling on my head, or on the dogs' unsuspecting backs, or on the roofs of the cars. I don't miss the half-sweet, half-sour scent of a working mango grove. Above all, I don't miss the constant labor. I now have a pool that I can enter without having to clear it of fruit first. What a concept! And where before there was saudade, now there is gratitude. I've brought a lot with me from Mango House in terms of experience and knowledge. I also have neighbors with fully loaded trees (it's going to be a very good season) and the same sensibilities that I have: When it hails mangoes, give as much as possible away. As I plant Thai limes and Kazake pomegranates for the next stage of my gardening life – gardening, not backyard farming – I also look back at all the mango recipes that I created, many of them with Betsy's help, to share some with you. And I offer you my best advice for choosing mangoes: Don't buy them from your grocery stores, where they're imported from abroad half-grown and force-ripened with gases. Order them, if you can, from Florida groves. The season is longer than you think, with dozens of commercially viable varieties coming in from now through early fall. It's pricey, but if you don't already know, you'll learn what fully grown, tree-ripened mangoes are supposed to taste like. See my recent article in Allrecipes.com for why supermarket mangoes are terrible and, if you have no other choice, how to choose a mango in the store. Don't have or like mangoes? Use any stone fruit or tropical fruit. Peaches and nectarines are an excellent substitute, as are papaya and pineapple. Experiment. In the end, I've learned, it doesn't really matter what you use, as long as you use what you've got.
JK
DISH: Recipes
Tropical Madness
Yet another lesson learned growing up with our fave produce lover: Serve fruit with the meal. Before, during, after – it doesn’t really matter. But if you cut it or combine it, cook it or top it with a maraschino cherry, your family will likely eat it. And that means children, adult or otherwise. With mango season close and vibes from my Florida partner-in-crime, I made the following tropical salsa to top fish this week. Chicken would be a great substitute, as would chips (although certainly less healthy). Served with dilled green beans, I got the following compliment: “This is a well-balanced meal.” Okay. But it is also delicious and a super-quick flavor enhancer. The recipe is more guideline than rule. Generally, it’s best served day of, although leftovers are nearly as good. Mangos offer a wallop of vitamin C, fiber, Vitamin A and B6. Pineapple raises the bar on those nutrients with the addition of potassium, calcium, and iron. Several of us eat this by the spoonful like a snack or dessert. 2 ripe mangoes, cut into small pieces ½ - ¾ cup pineapple, cut into small pieces 1/3 cup chopped cilantro ½ jalapeño, chopped 1 scallion, sliced thin (1/4 cup red onion can be subbed) Juice of ½ lime In a bowl, combine all the ingredients. I add a pinch of salt, but it’s not necessary.
BK
Breakfast Bake
An easy Sunday brunch item, this casserole looks impressive. But it's so easy to make. It takes its roots from bread pudding, so it's better to use croissants that are a little stale. Substitute chunks of baguette or any other bread you have laying around, although it won't be as rich. You can also add some chopped bell peppers and onions before (or after) baking if you want some additional textural contrast. And if you're a cheese person, well... need I say more? It also pairs beautifully with mangoes grilled cheek-side down for a couple of minutes until they caramelize. 4 croissants, torn into pieces 1 cup chopped fresh mango 4 good-quality sausages, crumbled, sauteed, and drained (equivalent of 1 cup) 6 large, whole eggs 1 cup whole milk (or ½ cup milk and ½ cup cream) 1 tablespoon sriracha or hot sauce (optional) 1 teaspoon salt ½ ground pepper ½ teaspoon smoky paprika ½ teaspoon chile powder 1 bunch chives or scallions, finely chopped, for garnish Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Arrange the torn croissants in the bottom of a good-size,overn-proof casserole dish. Sprinkle the mango and sausage over the top evenly. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, and seasonings. Pour over the croissant mixture and wait until the lqiuid is absorbed. Place it in the oven and bake until the top is golden-brown and puffy and it's set in the middle, about 35-40 minutes. Remove from oven and let rest for 5 minutes. Sprinkle with chives or scallions, cut, and serve with grilled mangoes on the side.
JK
Mango-spacho
This is a staple during mango season, and I also used to jar it all summer long (making good use of veritable mountains of fruit) so we could have it in the winter, too. It's incredibly refreshing and packed full of vitamins. Feel free to add more veg or more mango, depending on how thick or thin you like your 'spacho. Note that there's no bread in this recipe. It's vegan and gluten-free. You're also welcome to add a touch of high-quality olive oil if you like for some silky smoothness; a drizzle of flavored oil makes a nice garnish for service. Hot sauce or cayenne pepper is also optional. 3 cups pureed mango ½ cup finely diced cucumber ½ cup finely diced sweet white onion ½ cup finely diced yellow and/or red bell pepper 1-2 tablespoons cider vinegar Juice of 1 lime Sea salt and white pepper to taste Combine all ingredients and whisk. Taste and adjust acids and seasonings. Chill before serving.
TILL: Dig In?
The itch. That’s what happens as winter weather trails into spring and planting is on hold. Northeast Ohio reminds gardeners every year not to take it literally, yet those April days that hit 70 and 80 somehow fool even the seasoned among us. Hands ache to plant something, anything, in the soil with the potential of a harvest. That’s why I had to cover my container lettuce with plastic sheeting to shield it from several days of unpleasantness. Of course, a few days of sunshine tricked me into planting it in containers too big to drag into the garage. For comfort, I convinced myself the plastic drop cloth formed a little greenhouse. For the fourth consecutive year, April has brought showers… both of rain and snow to this corner of Ohio. That said, natives always say wait 15 minutes and the weather will change. Maybe the estimate is a little off, but 80 degrees is forecast for Tuesday. It does add to the challenge of what to plant and when. Although I did haul twin Eugenias inside, I don’t regret sprinkling mesclun into the beds last week or planting peas for greens and pods. They survive the weather as do cold-hardened or returning woody herbs like oregano and thyme. But a word of warning to the eager and the beginner. Box stores are notorious for stocking items that can’t survive without consistent warmer temps. Four-season gardeners need to leave the tomato plants behind for now or prepare to nurture them if your last scheduled frost date is still in the future. That information is easily found online by zone. Or visit a local nursery for more expert advise. Several of my favorites email weather warnings as reminders. And for sure, some seeds might be started inside before risking an overnight freeze. The back of the package usually has all the necessary information for starting inside or out. With a six- or eight-week lead time, that means time to get cracking. But if it’s outside soil and not seed-starting you crave, consider the humble potato. A spring start can make them harvest ready in 60 days. And the package says as soon as the soil is beyond the freezing stage. Isn’t that now? Last year I started a few weeks later, but then again, it snowed in May. Even if spudnik fizzles due to eagerness, at least the dirt lingers under my nails. And it beats weeding. Sometimes just the scent of the soil is as necessary and restorative as a bountiful harvest. Oh, and did I mention it took a few years to settle, but the columbine seed I got from my friend in New Jersey is finally spreading and budding right in the middle of the herbs? I know there’s another frost beware for this weekend, but the columbine will persevere. And so will we all.
BK
DISH: Recap and Coming Soon
Betsy has been in the digital world teaching food, drink, and flower skills. Fully vaccinated, she's also back to planning events. You can hire her for both by contacting her at betsy@theportablegarden.com.
Jen's piece on Testicular Cancer went up on Giddy and her travel articles for Marriott (the Everglades), Diamond Resorts (great hikes in protected places in Central Florida), and IHG (airport hotels) are all in the hands of editors, as is her piece on food allergies for The Counter. Her poem "Decoys" appeared in Gyroscope Review; "Echo, with Pandemic," was posted in Pine Hills Review; and "Aubade After Tropical Storm" was published in Twyckenham Notes. You can hire her for writing by contacting her at kavetchnik@gmail.com. Visit her website at jkaretnick.com. Coming Soon: Jen’s article about batch-cooking for health will appear in HuffPost; a reported piece on CPAP machines in the bedroom and another about marriage and divorce will post on the health and reproductive resource Giddy; and, fully vaccinated, she's back to traveling with a survey on Tampa hotels forthcoming on Insider. Her poems will appear in Book of Matches, Cider Press Review, and Under a Warm Green Linden. Another poem placed as a finalist in the Sweet: Lit 2021 Poetry Contest (issue forthcoming this June).
DISH: Poetry
The First Mango of the Season The first mango of the season is in miniature, precise down to its blush but smaller than a peach, skin and flesh hinged to a pit the size of an almond, and like furniture crafted for a doll house it is on scale with the blue jay who flies with it, clamped in his beak, to the ficus hedge, where he lets loose the fruit to peruse it with an eye as practiced as a chef's. Propped just so on the twisted crop of bush that serves as counter for the mise en place, the jay sharpens his beak on the bark to his left while the mango waits like a grape for the crush, the chief of tense change from is to was. You can find this and other food poems in Brie Season (Kelsay Books, 2014).
JK
