Sweet Talkin' Summer Essentials

I don’t know about you, but when the temperature rises above 90 degrees I don’t even want to look at the stove. Salad, cold soup, slaw, sorbet, and anything else that does not require additional heat are my summertime essentials. That is why yesterday I set out across Brooklyn to pay a visit to a little produce shop called, Atlantic Fruit and Veg. Japanese grocery.
There is nothing remarkable about this little market accept for the fact that it is always well stocked with handsomely ripe fruits, vegetables, herbs, spices, and what seems like an endless supply of un-bruised Arugula.
The day was hot, but there was a misleading breeze that lulled me gently into an uninhibited state and with my i-pod blasting Leningrad, the Russian ska/punk/klezmer version of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, I skipped down the street to the pounding beat, giving fellow pedestrians the impression that I had lost my mind. Once I arrived, having literally hopped across Brooklyn, my little Japanese fruit Market appeared like a colorful mirage, an edible rainbow composed of radiant fruits all of which were screaming out to be eaten.
The watermelon was particularly inviting and well, I don't know about you, but I have never been able to say no to a nice looking watermelon.
The cherries, having clearly been heavily picked through earlier that day, were expressly calling out for asylum. I picked out as many acceptable ones as I could find, I could put them in my morning yogurt.
Unlike their Florida counterpart, these Haitian mangoes were too busy suffering from culture shock to feel threatened by the legendary Alphonso Mango.
These rowdy Florida Mangoes on the other hand, accosted me as I entered the store. "Come on guys, did I not buy enough of you last week?" I tried reasoning with them, but their silent guilt-trip pulled just the right strings. I suppose I could make some sorbet. 'I better get out of here before I get sweet talked into buying anything else' I thought to myself as I ran for the register.
Here are a few of the concoctions I came up with.
Cabbage, Carrot, and Apple Slaw tossed in an
Unruly Mango Ginger Cilantro Dressing
garnished with crushed Spanish peanuts
Recipe:
1 cup - Mango puree
1 Tbsp- Sesame oil
1 Tbsp- shredded ginger
1 Tbsp - Rice Wine Vinegar
1 Tsp - Pomegranate Molasses or Honey
juice of one lime
salt and pepper to taste


Chilled Cucumber and Watermelon Soup
Recipe:
1 seedless cucumber diced
1/4 of a med sized seedless watermelon diced
2 Tbsp - shredded ginger (alright, so I'm crazy about ginger)
1/2 cup - chopped cilantro
1/4 tsp - Cayenne pepper
2 Tbsp of yogurt or cream
salt and pepper to taste

1.) in a food processor, puree the cucumber and melon, holding aside 1 cup of diced melon
2.) mix in all other ingredients minus the yogurt
3.) Chill for at least an hour
4.) Mix in yogurt or cream when ready to serve
Mango Sorbet
compliments of David Lebovitz's masterpiece, The Perfect Scoop

2 large, ripe Mangoes
2/3 cup - sugar
2/3 cup - water
4 tsp - freshly squeezed lime juice, plus more to taste
1 tablespoon of dark rum (I used ginger infused vodka)
pinch of salt

1.) peel mangoes and cut out flesh and cut into chunks
2.) Puree in blender with sugar, water, lime juice, rum, and salt
3.) Chill mixture, them freeze according to your ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions

The Sacred Mango Message

Spring is here and I cannot escape the sacred message the earth is broadcasting all around town: Eat Florida Mangoes
Huh?
Everywhere I go there they are. Mangoes at the grocery store, mangoes piled high at the corner fruit stand, mangoes wildly strewn with over ripe bananas and a very sad looking apple in the subway magazine shop. Sure these are all normal places to run into a mango or twenty (minus the zine shop of course), but there is something about these mangoes that is not quit right. It is something heart-rending, agonizing, and almost tragic. I can feel them watching me anxiously while in the produce section and it’s beginning to freak me out! What do they want from me?

After fleeing the corner deli, they too had unhappy mangoes, I read an entry on Metrocurean entitled Seeking Indian Mangoes and it instantly made sense. Amanda reports that the first shipment of Indian Alphonso Mangoes to the US in twenty years has thrown foodies in a frenzied state. These mangoes are grown naturally on trees that are hundreds of years old, says Madhur Jaffrey author of the New York Times op-ed story on the subject. These treasures are famous for their creamy texture and powerful flavor. Jaffrey describes them as “Indian masterpieces that are burnished like jewels, oozing sweet, complex flavors acquired after two millenniums of painstaking grafting.” Well then, it’s no mystery why these Florida grown mangoes have fallen into a state of severe despondency.

If there is anyone who can understand serious feelings of inadequacy it is me, and so with a deep sense of agrarian duty, I walked out the door and headed straight for the grocery store. My mission: to cheer up the dejected Florida Mangoes by giving them back their pride and self-worth.

I stomped into the crowded store, “Do you have any FLORIDA grown mangoes?” I asked one of the employees. He pointed toward the back of the store, “ I’m not sure if they are from Florida,” he said with an awkward smile. “We’ll just have to see about that,” I said as I marched off. They were indeed Florida grown and so, after I examined them, I choose four and headed home.
The Internet provides endless instruction on how to delicately cut and cube a mango, but I have always preferred the messy and rustic way of devouring this tasty fruit. Starting off with a juicy mango is imperative. I like to approach mango selecting as I would choosing a partner; a complexion free of dark spots and blemishes is always a healthy sign, and a fresh and honey touched smell is clearly preferable to the rancidly over-ripe cologne of the more ‘mature’ contestants. In the end, it is the sense of touch that always helps me single out my main-squeeze. Skin as firm as a tightly stretched canvas yielding tenderly to the succulent flesh beneath, now that’s what seals the deal in my grocery cart.

Once I get the winner home and out of the bag, I remove the garments and it’s time to dig in.
Who needs utensils when you can hold the wet and slippery carcass with both hands and, like a polar bear with a fresh and wiggling catch, tear off chunks of sinewy pulp with your teeth and suck the juice from the flesh? Jaffrey, being slightly more refined than me, suggests tying a napkin around your neck before digging in, but not me. I prefer to go commando - without a napkin that is. It may sound crude and even crass, but I assure you it is quit sensual. If you don’t believe me that’s okay, eat your mango with a fork like a civilized adult if it makes you happy, only don’t forget to listen for the important message the earth might be trying to send you: eatfloridamangoeseatfloridamangoeseatfloridamangoes

For those of you who are a bit strange and don't like mangoes, yet still feel obliged to support these down-trodden Florida Mangoes, I have a solution. I have an ex-boyfriend who did not like mangoes - needless to say things did not work out between us - but despite this prevailing detail, he did always enjoy this recipe. Give it a try and tell me what you think.
Creamy Mango Dressing
1 - Florida Mango diced
The juice of 1 lime
Splash of heavy cream
Dash of Cayenne pepper
1.Place all the ingredients in a food processor or blender and pure
until smooth
2. Chill for a least one hour before serving
3. Serve over watercress greens and sprinkle liberally with
strawberries and fresh mozzarella