Mango Mania: My Love Affair with the Tropical Fruit

I intended to write about the rewards of Butterfly Gardening, but all I can think about is my neighbor’s mango tree. I don’t know what has come over me. I began picking up the mangos that fell on my side of the fence and ate one or two, because I didn’t want to waste them. 

Then something akin to obsession came over me. I woke up every morning with the expectation that I would be rewarded with a few fallen mangos. 

Research tells me that mangos are rich in Vitamin A and C and originated in India.  North America gets their mangos (the ones in the grocery store) from Mexico, Brazil, Peru, Haiti and Central America.  The first recorded introduction into Florida was in 1833. The mango tree can grow as large as 50 feet tall and spread 50 feet wide, so if I plant one, I should be sure my yard is large enough to accommodate it. Leaves are alternately arranged, lance shaped, 6 to 16 inches in length and leathery. 

New growth is pinkish, and leaves become dark green when mature. The leaves and sap can also be toxic. That doesn’t frighten me for one minute; it only adds a little sense danger to the attraction. Nothing in my research told me why I am having a love affair with this fruit. I am drawn to its oblong shape and smooth skin, its creamy orange, slightly sweet flesh. I can’t go an entire day without eating one.  

I eat mangos with cottage cheese. I eat mangos for breakfast, lunch, or supper. 
I whirl them into smoothies. I eat them with yogurt. But by far my favorite way to consume this luscious fruit is straight up. Sometimes I can’t wait to slice it and place it in a proper container – I eat it right off the cutting board.

Then without warning, my neighbors were going out of town and told me I could have all the mangos I wanted! I was speechless. I couldn’t have been happier if I had won the lottery. 

I bounce out of bed and, still in my PJs, I head directly to the mango tree and collect my precious fruits. I have so many that I am now freezing them for future.  There are so many that I am freezing them for my neighbor.  After all, it is their tree and they have no idea they have now crossed the line from neighbor to enabler.  I’m not going to tell them if you don’t.