OF THE SUSPICIOUS STORIES CONCERNING THE MANGO--OF THE PET MANGO OF THE
MIAMIANS--AND OF ITS SUPERIORITY TO OTHER THINGS
The cupidity of farmers who are sick of northern winters is easily
aroused by prices obtained for the best varieties of mangoes. “Their
rich, spicy flavor, tempting fragrance and beautiful coloring,” say the
Miami prospecti, “make them one of the most tempting table desserts that
can be imagined.” Miami, it appears, has a monopoly on this fruit, and
the catalogues rub in the bad news by adding that “this monopoly is not
only confined to the cultivation, but also to the exquisite joy of
eating it, as very few find their way to the northern markets, the local
demand far exceeding the supply.” One reads that the choicest varieties
“readily sell in the northern markets for from one dollar to one dollar
and fifty cents each,” thus confirming the skeptical northerner in the
belief of the late P. T. Barnum that there was one born every minute.
The weak spot in this argument is not visible offhand to the doubting
Thomases from the North who spend the winter in Florida. The mango
ripens in summer--in June and July--so the winter visitors can not sink
their teeth in the widely advertised fruit. Consequently they always
feel sure that there is some good reason why the Florida people prefer
the exquisite joy of eating the mango to the even more exquisite joy of
shaking down their northern brothers for one dollar and fifty cents per
mango.
Strangely enough, there is no Ethiopian concealed anywhere in the mango
woodpile, although any one who aspires to become a mango-grower may have
his first fine enthusiasm dashed by the fact that mango trees don’t
begin bearing until five to seven years after they have been set out;
and seven years is a long time to wait, especially if one is hunting
for quick returns.
The mango in its finest form, however, is worth waiting seven years for.
The mango with which northerners are familiar is a small, mottled,
unhealthy-looking fruit about the size of a large lemon. The interior is
partly mushy and partly stringy, and it gets tangled up in the teeth in
a most annoying manner. The general effect obtained from dallying with
it is that the mango is a total loss. The pet mango of the Miamians is a
very different proposition. It is known as the Hayden mango, and is
about the size of a large coconut. When ripe it is rosy red all over,
and has the fragrance of a flower. It is a baffling fruit to open, as
its seed is about the size and shape of the cuttle-bone used as an aid
to canaries’ digestions. The unskilled mango eater will frequently wreck
an entire mango trying to worry it open gently; but he eventually learns
that one must wring its neck in a brutal manner to get the best
results.
The meat of the Hayden mango is sweeter than that of any other fruit I
know; and it has a peculiar and delicious taste and aroma of pine
forests. Years ago my grandfather, in the spring of the year, would go
prowling through the New Hampshire woods; and on his return he would
bring with him a lardpail full of the tender, slippery, fragrant inner
lining of the bark of pine trees, locally known as “slyver.” This was
always seized with delighted acclaim by the entire family and wolfed
down greedily because of its delicious piney taste. The Hayden mango has
the same piney taste raised to the thirty-third or master’s degree. One
Hayden mango makes an ample dessert for two people; and I have not found
that the Miamians are averse to selling them, or that the prices are as
high as the catalogues claim. Packages of six Hayden mangoes have been
sent to me repeatedly from Miami by parcel post at three dollars a half
dozen.
The Miami catalogues are a trifle wild when they start raving about the
exquisite joy of eating a mango that costs a dollar and a half; but if
one can get a good Hayden mango for half a dollar, it will probably
strike him as being considerably better than such ordinary matters as
oatmeal gruel, baked beans, suet pudding, griddle cakes, fried bananas,
bread pudding, or a poke in the eye with a pointed stick.