Every morning, when I open my bedroom window to let in some fresh air and the much-needed vitamin D-boosting sunshine into our lives, my eyes open to the mango tree in my neighbour’s house, which is an independent building, unlike our apartment. Pregnant with fruit on almost every branch, with some, which have dropped from the branches scattered on the terrace, the mango tree is harbinger to a day promising hope and optimism.
What can be said about mango which has not been said before? King of fruit, our national fruit, actually an emotion that holds centre stage in almost all Indians’ lives (I have yet to meet someone who hates mango!) from April until well into September. We all have our precious moments with mango and I have plenty of mine too.
I have been most fortunate to have grown up in houses which had plenty of fruit trees, especially mango trees, thanks to my father serving as a bureaucrat. I remember the subtle aroma of green mango pervading the whole house during the hot summer vacations when the raw ones which had dropped off on the ground had been brought indoors and kept on sand bales to ripen. Some of them would be used to make the season’s first mango chutney (mangos ground preferably on sil-batta with salt, green chillies, garlic, sugar/jaggery) or a more liquidified mango khatta which was cooked on a low flame, a good ‘Amba Khatta’ was also served on many Odia wedding feast platters, garnished with raisins.
Some would be used in the tangy, mint-fresh aam panna, with regional variations in recipes like the Bengali Aam Pora Shorbot of our family friend Bose Aunty, with mangoes which would be grilled over charcoal and the mango sherbet, when made out of those char-grilled mangoes had the most amazing smoked aftertaste. I have been spotting aam pora shorbot on the menus of many Bengali food pop ups, of late, but alas! have never quite ever got the taste of Bose Aunty’s version till date. I also like the Punjabi version, which I end up making in summers, which uses mint leaves and a good pinch of roasted jeera powder and rock salt.
Raw mango used in a khatti-meethi tuvar daal made by my mother with jaggery adding to the sweetness, and garnished with a seasoning of mustard, dried red chillies, curry leaves and hing, was my favourite and a recipe which I make often in summer. And who doesn’t remember those slices of green mango sprinkled with red chilli powder and salt sold outside our school gates which one would eat with glee!
In AP and Telangana, making mango avakaya is a summer ritual, followed like religion in some Andhra households. I know of some colleagues who used to take a couple of days off during mango season as it was time to get their hands dirty making some spicy mango avakaya. I have seen friends gleefully putting away a generous amount of rice with the pickle, and a generous drizzle of the pickle oil which is usuall sesame oil though peanut and sunflower oil is also used.
Avakaya is a combination of two words, ava meaning mustard and kaya meaning raw fruit or vegetable. While the recipe is fairly simple to make, it is a tedious process involving huge quantities of mangoes to be cut and prepared. An avakaya powder (mustard, methi and chilli powder in different proportions) is mixed with the mangoes and sesame or gingelly oil is added with a few soaked chickpeas (or garlic cloves) Batches are sent out to friends and relatives, and some of the well-made ones are looked forward to with bated anticipation as the season specials.
There are different variants to the avakaya, there is a Bellam or jaggery version or Menthi Avakaaya (with methi or fenugreek seeds) or a Dhaniyaala Avakaya (made with coriander seeds) or even an Endi Avakaya or dried mango pieces. But whatever the version, avakaya is most certainly one of the gems of Andhra cuisine.
I remember an aunt who had lived i Hyderabad for long years and had learnt the recipe of avakaya pickle, which had huge following with her family and friends on returning to Bhubaneswar. I used to highly treasure her freshly made avakaya pickle which she used to bottle for me to take to my hostel in Delhi University and the aroma of that slightly garlicky pickle oil, coupled with the fiery orange shade, was enough to pick up many a jaded hostel mess meal.
Years later, after working in Hyderabad, I would be elated to receive home-made mango avakaya pickle/pachadi from friends and colleagues. I would also look forward to Mamidakaya Pulihora (mango rice), cooked just like Tamarind Pulihora or Tamrind rice. I also absolutely love the Mamidakaya Royallu (prawns) or Mamsam (mutton), tangy and robust Andhra curries to be had with hot rice with a dash of ghee.
Ripe mangoes are of course in a different league, irrespective of how you like them, cut into unpeeled slices/peeled cubes, or by sucking them, or even blending them into mango milkshakes. And who can resist a good ‘vaati’ (bowl) of chilled, delectable aamras paired with hot puris on a Gujarati thali ? AI remember during my stay in Ahmedabad, any Gujarati thali place worth its signboard would dole out aamras in buckets on their thalis and so much was the pressure of demand that unscrupulous food vendors would store aamras for more than a year, leading to food poisoning and news reports in summer would invariably have such a news item!
My favourite Gujarati mango dish however was the Keri Fajeto made like a kadhi with besan, yoghurt and ripe mango puree. When I tasted it first at the home of Ela Bhatt, founder of the women’s self-help group Sewa, I was swept away by the novelty of the dish, which is rare to find even in Gujarati households these days and rarer still in restaurants. My other ripe mango favourite is the Aam Papad known by several regional names but loved across the country.
According to the National Horticulture Board, there are 1500 varieties of mango, each bearing an unique taste. But while Hapus or Alphonso (Ratnagiri and Sindhugarh districts of Maharashtra making the premium cut)is perhaps rightly considered the supremo among all mango varieties, I frankly find the taste a wee bit cloned and over-sweet to my palate. I have other favourites like the Rasalu (there is a Chinna or small variety and a Pedda or a larger one) and Banganapalli grown in AP, the Dasheri grown in Malihabad district of UP and even the Kesar mango grown in the foothills of the Gir forest in Gujarat. Kesar gets its name from its saffron shade and has a subtler taste than Alphonso.
There is also the Langra mango grown in UP and Bihar primarily but also grown in small parts in Odisha, and my parents have a couple of langra trees at their home in Bhubaneswar. I remember paying excess baggage fine to an airline on account of carrying mangoes lovingly packed by my mother, despite my protests. On informing her about this in annoyance, adding that I could have bought some Alphonso mango at this price, she retorted, “except that they would not be from your home garden”. I did think that was a smart response as we do want to carry back a bit of home with us, wherever we stay, and no price is high enough for that!
Fortunately, mango is loaded with vitamins A and C, soluble fibre and folates, making it a healthy fruit to consume. But an excess of mango can cause allergies and stomach upset, so do exercise in moderation while reaching out for mango this season!