When I was growing up in small-town India, summers arrived in full swing with the heady scent of mango blossoms. We had two trees in our backyard that rewarded us with enough fruit to last the entire season. My mother tired herself out sorting ripe mangoes for neighbors, and then for us, chopping them into precise cubes for snacking, and pureeing some for milkshakes. She’d also make kancha aamer chutney, a Bengali sweet and sour chutney tempered with warm spices, and a tangy tok dal with orange lentils. But the best stash of unripe mangoes was reserved for making hot and sweet pickles.
Indian pickles are a far cry from the briny fermented ones the rest of the world is used to. Oil, spices such as mustard, fennel and fenugreek (to name a few), and salt are the holy trinity in pickle-making. Once bottled, they are left to mature in the sun for a few weeks and enjoyed for the rest of the year. Recipes vary from one region to another depending on the culinary practices, and specifically on the availability of ingredients. For instance, in northern and eastern India, mustard oil is key to pickles, whereas in the southern states, sesame oil is the preferred choice.
Last year, “mango pickle” topped recipe searches on Google India according to a report released by the search engine. There is a mango pickle recipe spanning every region and community, showcasing the diversity of India’s 4,000-year-old pickling culture. In the 1998 cookbook Usha’s Pickle Digest, author Usha Prabakaran shares over 100 recipes for pickled mango, including one with cabbage (not to mention 900 more for other fruits and vegetables).
An absolute family favorite recipe belongs to my maternal grandmother. My mother, who learned it from her, has been making it for almost 50 years now. She likes to call it tok-jhal aamer achaar, which can be best described as mildly hot with a hint of sour. The technique is fairly simple: Tart green mangoes are first chopped into small cubes and rubbed with enough salt and turmeric, and then left out in the sun for a couple of days. My mother tells me this step is critical as the salt helps get rid of excess moisture and the sun dries the fruit, enabling the preservation process. On the day of pickling, she whips up a powdered spice mix comprising fenugreek, fennel, mustard, and dried red chiles. Mustard oil is key, and lots of it — “let the mangoes drown” is a common refrain from my mother. Hing, or asafoetida, packs a punch, especially when tempered with the spices in the pungent, smoky oil. My mother bottles the pickle and lets it sit in a sunny spot for a few weeks. It stays for over a year in a kitchen cabinet, although she suggests occasionally sunning the achaar to help fight moisture and mold.
India is home to more than a thousand varieties of mangoes. Each region has its own special cultivar identified by its unique shape, size, scent, texture, and flavor. According to A Historical Dictionary of Indian Food by K.T. Achaya, the origin of mangoes can be traced to the mountainous region of northeast India adjoining Myanmar and parts of Southeast Asia. The Alphonso (locally called Hapus), which grows in coastal Maharashtra, is considered to be the “king of mangoes” for its golden-hued firm texture and sweet, juicy pulp. Some other favorites include Kesar from Gujarat, Totapuri and Banganapalle from the south, Chausa, Langda and Dasheri from Uttar Pradesh, Himsagar from West Bengal, Goa’s Mankurad, and Maharashtra’s Rajapuri and Pairi.
Chutneys and relishes are also reliable ways to utilize green mangoes. They come together in a snap, and make for fun, time-saving condiments in the pantry. The possibilities are endless, from an instant South Indian raw mango and coconut chutney that can be used as a cold dip, to a sweet Gujarati chundo to go with cheese and crackers.
The versatility of mango chutneys makes them a go-to condiment for chefs. Chintan Pandya, the chef-partner of Unapologetic Foods, has a favorite, too. He prefers a khatta meetha, a sweet and sour version that pairs perfectly with fried snacks and grills. While aromatic spices such as cinnamon and cloves add sweetness and warmth, white vinegar acts as a preservative. A combination of sugar, rock salt, and red chile powder, Pandya suggests, lends more pronounced flavors to the chutney. His recipe calls for simmering the mangoes with the whole spices, vinegar, and water until they have softened and achieved a luscious, syrupy texture. “It’s sweet, spicy, and tangy,” he says. “I like to eat it with chips, in tacos and sandwiches, or even grilled fish and chicken.”
Mango lovers also ensure nothing is wasted. The London-based supper club chef Sohini Banerjee swears by the offcuts of raw mangoes to make a tart mango peel kashundi, a take on the quintessential Bengali fermented mustard relish eaten with fish fry and cutlets. As a big proponent of zero-waste cooking, she believes it is the best way to make use of the unique fragrance of green mangoes. “The sharp pungency from the mustard is what makes it addictive,” she says. “I also feel the sour notes from the mango cut it down and balance the overall kashundi.” Banerjee uses shop-bought Dijon and English wholegrain mustards in equal proportions and blitzes the mango peels with green chiles and lime juice. She explains that the mustard oil needs to be warm for that extra kick. Pair it with grilled sandwiches or add a few dollops to yogurt to make a zingy dip.
Semi-ripe mangoes are also the base for many refreshing beverages. Aam panna (in Hindi), aam pora shorbot (in Bengali), or panha (in Marathi), is a traditional drink that is hailed for its cooling properties. The Mumbai-based culinary consultant and author Saee Koranne-Khandekar makes a batch every year, typically for the kids as a post-school cooler.
It is prepared by either boiling or roasting green mangoes on an open flame (an oven or grill works, too) until the skin is evenly charred. The peels are then removed and discarded. From there, the pulp is mashed with a sweetener and spices such as cumin, rock salt, and a bit of chile powder. “More caramelized sugars such as brown sugar, palm sugar, or coconut sugar taste better in such situations,” Banerjee says. A few strands of saffron, slightly warmed and crushed, and ground green cardamom elevate the flavors of the mixture, which is used as a beverage concentrate. Fix yourself a margarita if you wish to jazz things up.
While ripe mangoes are best enjoyed as is, or in desserts, a relatively unique way to use them is in curries. “Whole, fibrous wild mangoes in spicy coconut or yogurt bases make a particularly delectable accompaniment to rice,” says Koranne-Khandekar. Regional variations showcase the endless possibilities of the recipe, and are particularly common in the kitchens of Goa, Mangalore, and Kerala. Over the years, families have improvised it by using either freshly grated coconut or simply coconut milk, sometimes with the addition of jaggery to balance the flavors, and even tamarind to cut the sweetness of the ripe mangoes. Koranne-Khandekar cooks a basic one by tempering curry leaves, mustard seeds, and dried red chiles, followed by simmering chunks of peeled ripe mangoes in a silky coconut gravy.
At the height of summer, I make a tangy Kerala-style fish curry, typically with prawns, to satiate my spice cravings. The next time I do, I’ll take Pandya’s advice and be mindful about soaking the mangoes in water before cooking to achieve a better crunch.
Rituparna Roy is an independent journalist based in Mumbai. She writes about food at the intersection of travel and culture. Her work has been published in BBC Travel, Conde Nast Traveller India, Roads & Kingdoms, Bon Appétit, Whetstone South Asia, and elsewhere.
Dilek Baykara is a Turkish American illustrator, print designer, and adventurous gastronome living in Brooklyn, New York.
