Under the mango tree

If you ask any Indian about their memories associated with Mangoes, you may find them glossy eyed telling you stories which will keep you up till dawn. Yes, my mind fills with nostalgia when I think about mangoes. My first memories mangoes are of hot summer days dandling my legs from the dining chair biting into the seed of the mango scraping away of the last bite of the sweet fruit that clung to it.

We had a mango tree at the back of our house, the roots of which had grown under the house. Under the mango tree was our favorite play area. I remembered once Dad had  hung a swing from the mango tree, lets not get to how many times I fell from that swing while trying to ape the local circus party in town. You see those days nobody gave us disclaimers for stunts viz 'dont try these at home' etc. I remember that one time, the rope gave way and I crash landed on our pet mongrel who was standing a few feet away inquisitively looking at me, trying to comprehend in his triangular doggy mind on what I was up to. I was lucky that he did not bite me behest self defense, however he had his tail between his legs for the next month or so very time he saw me.

At times that mango tree also has clumps of sticky gum oozing from its trunk, secretly sticking it to somebody's hair or backside was fun too. Then came the season when the tree would flower getting ready for the seasons fruits. As much as I loved the aroma of those flowers I were terrified at the prospect of going near that tree as there would be millions of airborne insects which would attack you.Then came the green fruits and I would watch them grow. Sometimes I would pluck them to see whats inside. And when the heat became unbearable the sky's would darken bringing in the draft of rain from far away. You see my grandfather was a meteorologist  for undivided India, and so were me and my siblings. One whiff of the cold air and we would know a hail storm is on its way. Hail was bad as subsequent number of unripe mangoes would fall off, in a way hail was also good as I could watch my brother pick up mangoes in the storm wearing dads helmet. Now when I think about it, we were a bunch of nut cases, I guess.

Then came in the seasonal produce from the markets, typical varieties being Langra, Chausa, Daseri, Himsagar, absolutely divine, food for Gods. We would have ripe mango at breakfast raw mango chutney for lunch and ripe mango for dinner dessert. It is a bullshit claim that you gain weight from mangoes, we never did. There have been times when dad would fill up sacks of mango from our tree and distribute it to friends and family, after all we had all started to look and smell of mangoes.
 
By then Ma would have utilized the summer sun to make some raw mango pickle which unfortunately me and my peeps would have polished off by the end of the third day. Imagine how frustrating that can be, ma, I love you and apologies for being so sneaky. Thinking of sneaky I am ashamed of how many kilos of sugar I have sneaked from the larder.

Before I bore you to death with memories of mangoes I want to share a recipe for Mango Chicken which I accidentally made for dinner.

Ingredients
300 gms  of Chicken with bones on
2 ripe mangoes
1 medium chopped onion
2 inches giner paste
8 cloves of garlic paste
Nutmeg paste 1/4 tsp
1 tablespoon of olive oil
Salt to taste

Cook the chicken in a pressure cooker with a pinch of salt and 1 cup of water for 10 minutes. Once done drain and shallow fry in oil till browned. Add in the onion and fry till transparent then add the ginger and garlic paste fry in high flame for 3 minutes and add the mangoes. Cover and simmer till mangoes have dissolved 50% and turned into gravy. Add in the nutmeg and 1 cup if water and simmer till chicken is soft. Chicken goes very well with the flavor of mango and nutmeg.
You can serve it with a portion of brown bread and mashed potato to balance out all the flavors.


Btw, I am not done with mango stories, the mango season ain't over yet.