Having spent time in Pakistan and Colombia I have some experience with Mangoes.
In Pakistan we had the most beautiful sweet and fresh Mangoes every lunchtime. My cousin showed me the easy way and the hard way to cut them up, a life lesson I haven’t forgotten. In Colombia when going to the fruit store in the barrio we sniff and squeeze and buy Mangoes of different varieties, sizes and levels of sweetness. I’m not even going to mention the size of the Papayas or the fantastic variety of exotic fruits you can get there, if you like fruit there’s nowhere better.
So when I was walking along Holloway road yesterday and the pavement fruit stall had four Mangoes for a pound I thought “result.” I should have known better.
I picked the firmest expecting them to ripen over the coming days but when I cut up the first it was rotten from the core, as was the second and the third. The fourth which was rock solid to the touch hadn’t quite gone but was on the way. So in the end it was a quarter of a Mango for a pound. At the supermarket they’re a pound each but they aren’t rotten.
It was the same when I bought some peaches from a market stall in Lymington in June.
Four Mangoes for a pound, a bargain? I think not.