Mango Mania: How the American Mango Lost its Flavor—and How it Might Just Get it Back

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I imagine I had a pretty similar mango-related upbringing to most people in the US.

I thought that they were good.

I thought that the mangoes I was eating were basically what mangoes were.

This is Miles Karp.

He's a food journalist, and a few years ago, he had a big mango breakthrough.

And he realized American mangoes suck.

The generic American supermarket mango is, quite frankly, a pitiful thing.

It's almost crunchy.

Like a mango should not be crunchy.

It's pretty bland.

It's pretty fibrous.

It's not soft.

And it's just generally not good.

This does not sound delicious at all, but I've heard about mangoes that can make your heart sing.

Sing all about mangoes.

Mangomaniacs rave about mangoes.

So where are they hiding all these magical, aromatic, juicy, almost custardy mangoes of legend?

And why can't I buy them at the store?

I, in case you've stumbled upon this by accident, I'm Cynthia Graeber, and you're listening to Gastropod, the podcast that looks at food through the lens of science and history.

And I'm Nicola Twilley, and this episode, Cynthia and I are going on a mango quest.

It involves a dentist in New Jersey, a Colombian horticulturalist in Florida, and mango orgies in India.

So, buckle up.

Miles Karp thought American mangoes were, well, mangoes.

He thought that's what mangoes were supposed to taste like.

And then he went to study in London for a year.

I went to Harrod's in London, the department store, store, like really luxury, expensive department store.

They have a little fruit stand there, and they had an Alfonso mango, which I had heard of.

I had never tried before.

And I bought it, I'm sure it was really expensive.

And it was just the most amazing thing I had ever eaten.

That was like the most exciting day of my life.

I'm not sure just what this says about Miles' life to that point, but so what exactly was this Alfonso mango like?

This one had no fiber, so it was just a uniform, creamy texture.

The skin skin is yellow.

The inside, I've heard described as saffron, but it's more like marigold, like a very deep orangish yellow.

Okay, so it's yellow, it's creamy.

But come on, Miles, what I care about is what does it taste like?

It tastes a lot like blackcurrant.

I guess really like blackcurrant flavored candy.

Caramel.

I mean, those two things, plus mango.

So it's like much more mango-y than any other mango that I've ever had.

The Alfonso mango Miles purchased in London was not actually from London.

The UK has many great fruit-growing regions, but yes, sadly, none of them are really suitable for mangoes.

This one grew in western India, and Alfonso mangoes have been growing in the region for probably 500 years.

There are suggestions that the Alfonso is named after Alfonso de Albuquerque, who's a Portuguese general who helped colonize India.

So the Portuguese had some holdings in western India, and they actually came to India and started grafting.

Grafting means that you can grow the same mango again and again, rather than just a random seedling.

It's a technique that means you can clone particularly delicious varieties like the Alfonso.

The Portuguese may have selected for the Alfonso, but Indians had domesticated mangoes thousands of years earlier.

You know, if one were to identify India with one fruit, it is the mango.

This is Sohail Hashmi.

I make documentary films, I conduct heritage walks daily, and I write about Delhi.

And Sohel is a mango obsessive.

We asked him to describe his relationship with mangoes, and he told us that sadly, he can't eat mangoes right now because he's been diagnosed with high blood sugar.

But before that, I had an extremely, extremely active relationship with mangoes.

My idea was to demolish as many of them as I could at one sitting.

This enthusiastic relationship is something Sohail has in common with many of his fellow Indians.

In fact, the national passion for mangoes goes deep in Indian history and culture.

There are references to mangoes in Hindu scriptures.

The story goes that the Buddha was given a grove of shady mangoes by a follower to rest beneath.

Mangoes were exchanged between Indian princes as diplomatic gifts.

The famous Mughal Emperor Akbar supposedly had an orchard of over a hundred thousand mango trees.

There are references to the mangoes say in the Kama Sutra.

A young man is courting a lady and they arrange a rendezvous.

And as he waits for his beloved to come, he has to prepare proper welcome for her.

Among the things that he was expected to keep ready for the lady were ripe sweet mangoes.

Sounds tempting.

But Cynthia, to be completely honest, I wouldn't take my knickers off for an American supermarket mango.

But apparently, Indian mangoes are in another class entirely.

And you can find mangoes throughout Indian culture.

There is so much in our classical music.

The shape of the mango has been used in embroidery and in weave and in carving.

And the paisley that you see in embroidery all over Europe is the shape of the mango.

Scholars actually debate whether the paisley shape originates from a mango or from other fruits and leaves.

But who cares?

So Hale, like many, many of his fellow Indians, is convinced that everything good in life is to do with mangoes.

Mango is so deeply ingrained into Indian culture of food and of music and of poetry and in embroidery, in carving, that it is the fruit of India.

So it's woven throughout culture and it's also woven right into the fabric of people's lives.

Mangoes are what made my childhood summers sing despite the heat.

So I grew up in India.

I was born in India and I grew up there.

And mangoes are essentially what I waited for every year.

This is Ritu Chatterjee.

She's a reporter at NPR.

So for me, summers meant it was pretty much all I ate.

Ritu's not the only one who couldn't wait for mango season.

All of India goes mango crazy.

When the season arrives, which is like late spring, early summer, it's like an event.

All the newspapers cover it.

There are festivals.

When Sohal sees the news that mangoes are ready, he hires a bus.

What I do once in a year, I take busloads of people 50 kilometers out of Delhi to spend one day in mango orchards.

There are orchards all along the roads there, miles and miles of orchards, as far as you can see.

So that is where we actually have a mango orgy.

Before the trip, Sohail and his friends make special extra spicy curries that go with the mangoes.

And they bring those along into the mango orchard for their orgy.

You eat that and then you attack the mangoes.

And then you do it all again.

You eat stuff, then you eat mangoes, then you eat some more stuff, then you eat more mangoes, then you can't look at mangoes, you lie down under the shade of the mango tree and

when you are ready to eat more, there are more mangoes.

So that's obviously one way to eat mangoes at a mango orgy.

But Indians also cook with mangoes.

So the range of food in which mango goes in is virtually countless.

You don't even have to wait for the ripe mangoes to get started on your mango feasting.

Ritu told us that one of the first ways people eat mangoes in season is by turning green mangoes into a drink.

You sort of roast the green mangoes over a flame, and then you just take out the soft green pulp and you mix it with water and sugar and some spices and salt.

Then you stick it in the refrigerator and it becomes this wonderfully tangy, salty, sweet,

spicy, cooling drink.

Or you can cook green mangoes for dinner.

Ritu described a mango dal that she said is particular to her home state of West Bengal.

You take lentils, what we call masur dal, or it's the orange lentils, and you take chunks of green mango and you cook the lentils with the mangoes.

Just in case you're not already drooling, there's more.

There are mango chutneys.

There's powdered mango, which adds a sour note to lots of Indian dishes.

Once the mangoes are ripe, the dishes turn turn sweet.

Ritu told us that her family would cut up mangoes and bread and soak them in milk.

It's very unsophisticated, but somehow very delicious, a favorite summer comfort food.

In America, we are clearly doing this mango thing all wrong.

And from the sound of it, we're really missing out.

But Miles had bought an Indian mango in London, an Alfonso mango, to be specific, and he had gotten a taste of what Nikki and I apparently have been missing our whole lives.

Everyone who's tried one has just been like, I had no idea a mango could taste like this.

What have I been doing?

But a student cannot buy mangoes at Harrods every day.

Alfonsas are available in London, but they're not cheap and they're not that easy to get a hold of.

And then, even worse, when Miles got back to the US, he discovered he literally couldn't buy an Alfonso mango at all.

Indian mangoes had been officially banned by the U.S.

government.

So, officially it was because of phytosanitary concerns.

They were concerned about pests hitching rides on Indian mangoes and coming to do damage to American crops.

Miles was pretty upset about this ban.

But Indian expats, they were devastated.

A good Indian mango is just so delicious that not having it will make you very sad.

So sometimes actually people would fly back to India for mango season if they were connoisseurs.

Other times people would smuggle Indian mangoes.

But for the most part, Indian Americans in the U.S.

just missed good mangoes.

That was the situation.

Until a dentist who was born in Gujarat, a dentist named Bhaskar Savani, based in Pennsylvania, sort of took this on as his pet project.

Bhaskar got involved in this because of his dad.

His dad had joined the ranks of the mango smugglers.

He was bringing some home from India for Bhaskar.

And he got stopped by customs officers at JFK.

And the customs officers were not feeling Baskar's need for mangoes.

They told Bhaskar's dad to throw the mangoes out.

He wasn't allowed to bring them into the country.

And instead of throwing them away, he sat there eating the mangoes, like eating as many mangoes as he possibly could so that they didn't go to waste.

And when he finally came out of the airport a few hours later,

his son was worried that something had happened to him.

He was like covered in mango juice.

After his dad and the accidental mango feast at JFK, Bhaskar started researching this ban and lobbying against it, and he got involved with the U.S.-India Business Council.

So at the time, this was in the early 2000s, George Bush and Manmoan Singh were in talks.

These were big trade negotiations.

And so Bhaskar Savani, this dentist who loved mangoes so much, basically pushed the U.S.

India Business Council to include mangoes as part of these talks.

And eventually, George Bush was actually given an Alfonso mango to try during one of these summits.

He apparently said, this is a hell of a fruit.

And then mangoes were on the table.

Literally.

But W's moment of of mango appreciation was not enough on its own.

Motorcycles to the rescue.

Okay, so at the same time, the U.S.

was trying to get Harley-Davidson motorcycles into India.

Those had been banned because they had too high emission levels.

And so eventually it was decided that if India allowed Harley-Davidsons in, then the U.S.

would allow Indian mangoes in.

I think we won out in this trade deal.

So in 2007,

finally the first shipment, which was spearheaded by this dentist, Dr.

Savani, arrived at JFK airport and it was met with a lot of fanfare.

There was a lot of promise back then.

When this ban was lifted, people were hopeful or people expected that Indian mangoes would be ubiquitous in the U.S.

soon.

But wait a minute.

I don't remember a big mango renaissance starting in 2007.

And if there's one thing you and I would have noticed, Nikki, it would have been a mango renaissance.

So what went wrong?

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It just didn't happen and it didn't happen for a number of reasons.

The first problem, Mumbai is really far away from New York City, like 9,000 miles, which is 22 days on a container ship.

And the mango is not really the hardiest fruit.

It's pretty perishable as far as fruits go.

So it it has to be flown.

It cannot be shipped.

And flying a fruit is really expensive.

Right now, there's not enough demand to create an economy of scale.

And then there's the issue of getting rid of pests.

Mangoes imported into the U.S.

have to be irradiated in India.

It's part of a particular USDA protocol.

There are only two facilities in all of India where that can happen.

A USDA inspector has to be there.

They can only work six to eight hours every day.

Dr.

Savani was telling me that until recently, he was responsible for putting the USDA inspector up in a hotel and paying for their transportation.

And so, all these obstacles and bottlenecks, they all add up to one thing.

Very, very expensive mangoes.

There's an Amazon listing selling Alfonso mangoes for $160 for a box of six mangoes.

That's more than $26 for each mango, each one.

So, you can get lucky and find them at an Indian grocery store.

You can order them through one of these importers online.

Like Bhaskar, there are other ones too.

Mangoes, M-A-N-G-O-Z-Z.com.

Getting lucky in this instance might mean getting a box for 70 bucks.

That translates to the bargain basement price of nearly $12 a mango.

And so people don't really embrace fruit at these prices.

Basically, all that changed is that now the mango situation in the US is like the mango situation where I grew up in England.

You can get get Alfonso's, yes, but they're air freighted in in limited quantities, so they're pretty expensive and hard to find.

They're definitely a special treat that you have to seek out rather than an everyday fruit you could pick up at the store.

I'd never had one, but they do sound worth seeking out.

I'm tempted to stalk my local Indian grocery store during mango season to see if they get any in.

I like Alfonso's all right, but I just don't think they're the best.

Wait, what?

What do you mean Alfonso is not the best?

Honestly speaking, and then this I'm prepared to say anywhere, Alfonso is more a marketing success than anything else.

It is a good mango, but if I was to choose from mangoes which I considered good, Alfonso will not be on it.

Yep, it's true.

Alfonso gets all the hype, but it turns out when you actually ask an Indian person what their favorite mango is, you rarely hear the same thing twice.

There are Indians who are crazy for Alfonso's, like Bascar the dentist, or even my dad's first boss, who used to send him to Heathrow Airport to pick up the first box of the season.

But Ritu and Sohel are both tepid about alfonsos.

There are other varieties that generate far more passion.

So my favorite variety, which is called Himsagar, pretty big,

bigger than the varieties of mangoes you find here.

And it's a very solid and sweet variety.

Not as fibrous, not as juicy as other varieties that come out later in the season.

Yet another mango that sounds incredible that I've never been able to get my hands on.

The one thing Indian mango lovers do agree on is that part of the pleasure of mango season is the flow.

You fall in love with lots of mango varieties, one after the other.

So May through early June, you would eat the Himsagar.

Then from somewhere around the end of May, early June, you start having another variety, say like the Daseri.

And then you move on to later in June and July, you have other varieties come in.

So, you know, you only have a few weeks to have each variety of mango.

And it's not that Ritu and Sohel are just waiting for the next one to show up so they can keep eating the same mango flavors.

Actually all the mangoes are really different which is part of the fun.

There are mangoes that are very sweet.

There are mangoes that are sweet with a touch of sourness.

There are mangoes where they are very fleshy and there are mangoes that do not have that much flesh.

but sucking the bone gives you a lot of syrup.

So it's difficult to say that this mango or that mango.

There are people who like Tchaikovsky and there are people who can't stand Tchaikovsky.

You know?

There are people who prefer Handel over Wagner and there are those who can't stand Wagner.

Okay, so what Ritu and Sohail are basically saying is that the Indian mango season is like a symphony.

And by contrast, the American mango scene, more like a tin whistle.

So now I understand what had always kind of confused me.

I had heard Indian mangoes were dreamy, but I had no idea why I couldn't find them easily in America.

Now I know.

But what I still don't understand is where are we getting our mangoes from and why don't they taste good?

This is like an Aesop's fable, the tale of how our mangoes lost their flavor.

It all goes back to our good friend David Fairchild.

If you haven't already listened to our episode all about him, you should.

You might remember from that episode that in the late 1800s he paid Indian children to suck the flesh off mangoes so he could send the seeds back to the U.S.

We got Indian mangoes here.

So then what happened?

Fairchild sent them to DC, and the DC folks decided that Florida was the best place to try to grow this fabulous new fruit.

That was a long boat trip from India to DC and then a trip to Florida and then nobody in Florida knew how to grow mangoes.

So as it happens, only one from that original batch of seeds survived.

But that just happened to be like the strongest tree, not necessarily the tastiest one, just the only one that survived.

But that's the mango that all the commercial American varieties are descended from, the ones you see in the store.

It's a genetic bottleneck.

And there's another thing that's different about American mangoes, which leads me to my second Aesop's fable, How the Mango Became Red.

In India, mangoes are yellow and orange and green, but in my local supermarket, the mangoes are mostly red.

Why?

The story is that a couple named John and Florence Hayden moved to Miami more than a century ago, and they planted a whole bunch of mangoes.

All the trees were descended from that one hardy survivor from Fairchild's Day.

John died, but Florence, she discovered a beautiful, blushing red mango mango among their trees.

She called this new mutation the Hayden, and this Hayden variety of mango took Florida by storm, which created yet another genetic bottleneck.

In fact, the most common mango in American stores today, the Tommy Atkins, is a direct descendant of the original Hayden.

The guy who bred it, Tommy Atkins, entered it into some sort of like competition in Florida and they rejected it, saying that it didn't taste good enough.

So it's red and it has long shelf life and it ships well.

And so that's why in New York City, most people hate mangoes because they spent four bucks and it was like cardboard and they said, no, never again.

David Kuhn is a mango geneticist at the USDA Agricultural Research Service near Miami.

And as David pointed out, Tommy Atkins ships well.

This matters because we don't get our mangoes from Florida.

I mean, India is, I don't know, they have 95% of the world's production of mango, but they hardly export it at all because they eat them all.

They're grown on a really small scale in the U.S.

For the most part, they come from Latin America.

Three-quarters of the mangoes in U.S.

stores come from Mexico, the rest come from Peru and Brazil.

So we're getting our mangoes from Latin America, which is not the mango's native home.

The varieties are not the greatest to begin with, but there's another major reason that our mangoes taste like cardboard.

Because of a particular seed weevil, they have to be dipped in hot water for what seems to be an incredibly long period of time.

I think it's 65 degrees centigrade for at least 30 minutes.

Yeah, so they're kind of boiled by the time they come out.

Boiling a mango is really not a great idea in terms of flavor retention.

I can't imagine any fruit doing particularly well after sitting in hot water for 30 minutes.

30 minutes of that should turn it into mush.

What kind of fruit can survive that?

There are some mangoes where the hot water treatment treatment doesn't really bother them that much.

I mean, nothing bothers Tommy Atkins.

Probably because it started out tasting like cardboard.

I do want to mention that you can find some halfway decent mangoes if you look for small yellow ones called champagne mangoes or altolfo mangoes.

Some don't have to be given the hot water treatment, and they're pretty tasty too.

And in stores near me, they're imported from Mexico and Haiti.

I wouldn't place an Altolfo mango in the same universe of quality as an Alfonso, but it's way better than a Tommy Atkins.

And they are grabbing market share.

Yay, we can get a slightly better than crap mango in the shops.

I would actually agree with Miles that it's way better.

But that said, I'm not writing poetry about it.

Exactly.

It's not these sexy Indian mangoes that inspire passionate love in all who are lucky enough to experience them.

Those are the ones I want.

Is there really no way to get hold of those?

Well, Nikki, there just might be one way that doesn't involve us flying halfway across the globe.

Are you ready to eat some mangoes?

Because you are so lucky today, even though that is so late for mango season.

I was able to get some mangoes for you this morning, so I was so excited about it.

Norris Ledesma is the mango lady, and she is the key to our mango quest.

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A few weeks ago, we flew to Miami to do a live show at the Frost Museum of Science, which was awesome.

But the morning of the show, we drove a few miles south of town to visit the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden.

Once again, this is the legacy of our friend David Fairchild.

It's a botanical garden that started from his collection.

Today, the gardens have more than 6,000 different plant species, and Norris Ledesma is in charge of the tropical fruit trees, particularly their mango collection.

I'm a simple girl from Colombia, from a village.

I grew up with my grandmother.

Norris didn't start out knowing she was going to be a tropical fruit expert.

All she knew was she didn't want to work in an office and have to wear high heels every day.

And when I decided to study, I knew that I didn't want high shoes.

I wanted to be comfortable.

I like rubber boots.

Norris is trained as a horticulturalist, and she gets to wear rubber boots and even a cowboy hat every day.

And when she came to work at Fairchild, she inherited the mango collection, but it also might have been fate.

Mango is in my blood.

It's probably my second food after the bananas.

Cynthia and I are on a quest for a better tasting mango.

But it turns out there's actually another big mystery in the mango world, one that Norris and David have been trying to figure out.

No one knows exactly where the mango comes from.

Obviously, if you ask an Indian, they will say the mango comes from India.

But David's a scientist, so he felt the need to fact-check that.

David spent the past two years devoted to creating a huge map of the mango genome, and based on on his research he has a different theory.

It's just my opinion, but I would say that Southeast Asia and other regions in there are probably

the main source.

Norris actually agrees.

Her bet is that the mango's original home is Borneo.

I imagine that they jumped first, probably to the Philippines and they went to the south of India and also to Laos and Vietnam Vietnam and Thailand.

So they start disseminating of these seeds and people start selecting mangoes and they like.

Norris has been traveling all over the world.

She's a fruit hunter, just like David Fairchild was.

And she's collected hundreds of varieties for the Fairchild Garden with hundreds of varieties of flavors.

There's a whole world, or at least a whole region of the world, full of mango flavors.

We were already reeling when we heard Ritu and Sohail describe the varieties of mango in India, but Norris had set out a table full of mangoes for us, 30 or more from all over Southeast Asia.

Cynthia, smell them.

This is what our friends have been talking about.

Mm-hmm.

I'm just gonna, can I just

we started by tasting the closest relative to wild mangoes.

There's almost like um like petroleum or something.

There's like a rich like a roundness to it.

Like can you sense a little bit of onions and garlic on it?

Yeah.

Yeah, totally.

Over the next hour, we had our own mango orgy.

We ate mangoes from Thailand and Vietnam and Cambodia and Myanmar and India and Sri Lanka.

Norris tried to teach us correct mango tasting protocol.

So you have to peel it a little bit and then smell it first.

And then you can eat it.

We started off listening to her and trying it out.

The peel has a particular smell.

The parts near the stem taste a little different than the rest.

But really, soon Nikki and I were just shoving pieces of mango in our mouths.

Uh-huh.

So juicy, it's dripping, and we're covered, and your microphone is gonna be so sticky.

Yes, it is.

I think I'm just floating in a mango cloud.

I'm biting down really, like I'm sucking the last little bits off the skin now, and that, it tastes like lime, but not lime, like, oop, but lime, like, mmm.

Not all the mangoes tasted like fruity heaven.

Some of them had really unexpected flavors.

Onion and garlic and even blue cheese.

Right, it smells cheesy.

It had

already

been studying this mango, and it has cheese,

actually, blue cheese.

In a pleasant way,

it's just combined with the other flavors, like the papaya, like it has a little bit of, no, a lot of mandarin.

There were some savory notes, yes, which was a little surprising.

But then there were other surprises awaiting us.

Oh my gosh, it tastes like coconut.

It tastes like coconut.

This is a coconut-mango hybrid.

Oh my gosh, this is surprising.

This is actually my new favorite mango.

It's from Myanmar, and I can't even really pronounce its name properly, but I love it.

It's called the Svetinta, or something like that, anyway.

I don't have a favorite.

That's definitely one of them, but there were like five different ones I'm dying to try again.

When we put them on the spot, Norris and David couldn't choose their favorite either.

Depends of my mood, depends of the weather, depends on the occasion.

There are some days that you want to be sophisticated.

Then, do you want a mango, then you don't want to get messy?

So, it is an occasion for that, and it's a kind of mango for that.

My feeling always has been that the best mango is the one you just harvested, and you're eating right that very minute.

I may not have harvested it myself, but I can agree that the best mango is an amazing one that was just picked and that I can't stop eating.

That's my favorite.

Fine, let's not argue.

I'm not gonna fight about the best mango.

The point is, we have now eaten truly amazing mangoes and lots of them.

We did, we succeeded in our quest, we ate genuinely mind-blowing mangoes.

We now know what mangoes can and should be.

But now I'm back home in Los Angeles and the mango situation is just all the more disappointing, frankly.

David and Norris both have plans to change that.

Separately, they're each working on breeding the mango of the future.

David is using his new gene map of the mango, which makes the whole process faster and and cheaper.

Usually it would take years to cross-breed mangoes and grow the trees and the fruit, but David is working on genetic markers for specific traits.

We want to be able to screen at a very early time, so we want to associate traits to markers, then use those markers to screen.

And we don't want to pick the winners, we want to pick the losers, and then we throw the losers away.

So it cuts down on your evaluation costs.

You only put things that are potentially going to be better out into the field.

David and his colleague Barbie Freeman have been working on their mango of the future for a while now.

What they're looking for, though, is what the mango industry tells them it wants.

Okay, so commercially it's always fruit color.

And in America right now, the color both industry and consumers like is red.

One thing that people are really interested in is dwarfing.

Smaller trees means you can fit more in an orchard and they're easier to harvest.

Reducing loss to disease is big.

Finding cultivars that chip better, that would be great.

Frankly, industry doesn't seem all that interested in better flavor.

But of course, Barbie and David are certainly also interested in flavor, and they've developed a new mango at the research center that they say meets some of industry's requirements and tastes great.

They're really excited about it.

This also is a huge mango.

It's literally about that,

about a foot long, at least.

And the seed inside is extremely flat, and it's very smooth.

There's no fiber.

You could eat this with a spoon.

I mean, it's amazing.

Yeah, I'm crazy for this mango.

A couple of miles down the road, Norris has been working on a new mango of her own.

She's on the second generation of crosses, and she's trying to create a mango that doesn't need a cold snap to bloom, one that's hardier and more resistant to pests and diseases.

Basically, a mango that can stand up to climate change.

But then she's also trying to breed for something we didn't expect.

She wants to create a dark purple mango.

I always thought that it doesn't matter the color of the skin, they are all good, but the reality is that our farmers are losing a lot of money money with the yellow skin mangoes because the market is looking for perfection.

And the yellow skin mangoes can show better any

scarves and imperfection that they have.

And the losses...

for the farmers is about 40% in yellow mangoes compared with the red mango skin.

So now I'm more turned and created a mango than it's purple.

Purple is pretty.

Americans love pretty fruit.

And it hides dings better than yellow.

And it has more built-in antioxidants, too.

Norris says dark purple mangoes from Malaysia, and she's cross-breeding them with different varieties at the Fairchild Garden to try to get all the other traits she wants.

But we were curious, why didn't Norris mention flavor?

I'm not that worried about that.

If I was trying to do the perfect

watermelon, I have to be worried about it because you don't have much to choose.

Norris says watermelon is just two notes, sweet and water.

Nothing like the complexity of mangoes.

But with mango, it's so much that you have in the pot that anything that you grab from that is going to be just so good.

Alright so this is progress.

We have two very promising sounding candidates to replace the Tommy Atkins at my local supermarket.

But I'm not a patient person and plant breeding is a very slow process even with David's genetic map.

I'm afraid these new varieties are probably a decade away.

No, I'm a lucky girl.

I know that I'm going to have one decent mango in the next two years.

Even if Norris is that lucky, it doesn't mean you'll be able to buy one at the store in two years, unfortunately.

There's a whole supply chain convincing farmers to grow them, making sure they fit the packaging, everything.

But Norris certainly is optimistic and it's contagious.

I believe in her.

Norris also pointed out that we've had bad mangoes for so long that, frankly, any new and improved mango will need better marketing.

I'm amazed about the job that the avocado

marketing had been doing.

The avocado association had been doing an extraordinary job.

As you might remember from our recent avocado episode, the avocado board did a whole sexy fruit job on the avocado and it worked.

And I said to myself, if they had been able to accomplish all this with a fruit that is not that appealing, is green and kind of boring, I'm sorry, and also

you have to put a lot of things in order to eat it.

You know, you have to put salt, garlic, olive oil, and mangoes.

You don't need any of that.

Dude, I'm sold already.

But here's the thing.

Cynthia and I are aware that we have just done something really unfair to you, dear listeners.

We've told you that your mangoes suck.

We've painted a picture of mango paradise.

And now what?

We can't leave you like this.

That's just mean.

We asked Norris what you should do.

I think they should visit South Florida during mango season, which is in July.

We don't have just hurricanes.

We have have wonderful weather, wonderful beaches to visit.

They can come to the Everglades National Park and eat mangoes with us.

In fact, Norris holds a fabulous mango festival every year in July, where you can taste many of the 600 varieties she grows at the Fairchild Garden.

We just missed it, but it sounds amazing.

Definitely worth it.

We also asked Sohail what his advice was for Americans on a quest for better tasting mangoes.

You have to come to India.

I only hope all all the Americans don't come

together.

Let them come in small numbers.

We love to share,

but we may not love to share all of them together because then there will be nothing left for us.

Okay, so start looking for cheap flights.

And in the meantime, back at home, buy yourself one of those little yellow atolfo mangoes.

It might look less shiny and perfect than a Tommy Atkins, but it will taste a lot better.

Thanks this episode to Noris La Desma at the Fairchild Tropical Garden and to David Kuhn and Barbie Freeman at the USDA's Research Center.

Thanks also to Sahail Hashmi and Ritu Chatterjee and Miles Karp.

We have links to all the people you've heard this episode at gastropod.com and we also have some photos of our Miami mango orgy.

Unfortunately, we didn't have the technology to capture the smell and taste for you, so maybe a July trip to Miami is in order.

Or Deli in June.

As always, we'll be back in two weeks with a brand new question.

For those of us who are not vegetarian, why do we eat the animals we eat?

In terms terms of the chicken for instance because we eat chickens now that's all they're for right is for food for for meat and for eggs the assumption is that that's always what they've been used for and all of the evidence that we've got at the moment suggests that's not the case at all chickens were not domesticated for food

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