There are some foods that once you've had the real thing, and you know what they are supposed to taste like, it's hard to be happy with anything less. Mangoes happens to be one of those. I don't profess to know a whole lot, but I do know how a good mango is supposed to taste. It's just one of the many benefits of growing up on the island.
For years after moving to the US I tried to find good ones. Seems like that task gets more difficult outside of the state of Florida. Eventually, I decreased purchasing them. It was too disappointing to get one, and it not have the flavor I know is supposed to be there.
Sometimes though, when I happen upon a few that look good enough, I'll buy them. Once in great a while, I'll get rewarded for taking the risk. It happened this week. I bought a couple. I didn't bite into it. I only do that to "sure thing mangoes." Instead, I cut into this one. That way, if it were sub par, I'd be getting only a small taste of mediocre, not a mouth full of disappointment. Wow! It was good. So good. Almost as good as the "l don't care if I let the juice run down my chin and elbows" ones I used to have on the island. I quickly decided I was glad my husband, and youngest kiddo were not at home. My eldest daughter has a mango allergy. Poof! There goes all my reasons to share.
I just wanted to be alone, my mango and me. I don't know if it was the rare warmth on a winter's day, or nostalgia, but eating that mango was more like an experience. I can't tell you that it's the best I've ever had, but it did not disappoint. There really is no substitute for sitting under an mango tree, and eating them to your satisfaction, but since I can't do that at the moment, and until I can, I'll be here huddled in a corner behind my kitchen cabinets eating them to my fill.