They say that as immigrants mingle and marry and their descendants melt into the American soup, the last identifying sign from their countries of origin is a sense of taste. Could that be why I (and my sons) can't do without various jars of mango and lemon pickle? (Yes, that Taj Mahal imitation is completely made of lemons, courtesy of the Annual Lemon Festival in Menton, France. Source: Sepia Mutiny).
And for those who might be staying in D.C. after ALA, here's an option: check out the first-ever Indian mango tasting festival this harvest season, held June 27 during the Global India summit. India produces 58% of the world's mango crop, but you couldn't find any sign of them in North America ... until now. To really enjoy a Bengali langra, the juices must drip down your chin as you devour every last piece of flesh, discarding the pit only when it's white and bald (nothing personal intended, my white bald readers). Of if you prefer to peel and chop into chunks, here's the way to do it.