The overflowing carts of the red-yellow-green fruits outside of my bodega heralds the beginning of mango season in the Northern Hemisphere. After a typical long run I walked by craving something sweet, but instead of going for the giant red ones I chose the small s-shaped light yellow mango. In common US grocery stores - Whole Foods, Trader Joes and even my beloved Fairway - you’d be forgiven for believing there are only two types of mango: “mango” (meaning the common Tommy Atkins or sometimes the Kent) and a “honey” (or sometimes “champagne”) mango.

Mangoes originate in the region that encompasses modern day India, Bangladesh and Myanmar. Today there are hundreds of mango varieties, a fruit with tremendous cultural depth, playing a major role in India, Pakistan, Thailand, the Philippines, and that’s only South and Southeast Asia.

In the US our stores only stock the two generics. And of the two it’s reported that 80% of imported mangoes are the Tommy Atkins, a mango that was initially rejected by the Florida Mango Forum in the 1950s for being “unremarkable.” I personally don’t mind the Tommy, it has a nice tang uncommon with other mango types, but it is very fibrous (you’ll need to floss after) and lacks the classic floral sweet mango flavor. Try any specialty mango variety and the Tommy is simply a pale imitator. While many Americans deeply love the mango, it hasn’t taken up a mantle in mainstream American fruit culture.

Enter the Ataulfo Mango. I’d thankfully picked a perfectly ripe one after my run (you want it to be soft to the touch but not mushy with a floral smell) and peeled it like a banana for an almost sorbet consistency with the mango flavor you would conjure in your head - notes of peaches, a light sweetness with floral notes. And these mangoes do have a mantle in global history much more than the “honey” or “champagne” name would lead you to believe.

The Ataulfos roots are in the Spanish Manila-Acapulco galleon trade route, one of the very first global trade routes that connected Europe, the Americas and Asia. Silver from Peru was brought to the Philippines to trade for Chinese luxury goods to be brought back to Spain beginning in the 1500s. These ships could only cross twice a year across the Pacific, eventually bringing the sweet Carabao or Philippine mango to Mexico where they thrived (and most American mangoes come from today).

In the 1940s Ataulfo Morales Gordillo bought mango-tree rich land in Chiapas, Mexico with a few types of new, delicious mango. In the 1950s agricultural engineer Hector Cano Flores heard of the delicious mangos from his property, studied the new type and eventually landed on one that was released in the 1960s, naming it the Ataulfo. It gained popularity, eventually receiving a Mexican Denominacion de Origen, a protected status like French Champagne, meaning only mangoes from the volcanic Chiapas soil can be called “Ataulfo.” They’re one of only 18 designated, among tequila and mezcal.

Despite the 200+ years of global trade and beloved status in Mexico, when the Ataulfo was imported by the Ciruli Brothers in the US it was given the name “Champagne mango” to differentiate, collapsing this history into the name of a different protected product. In 2017 the National Mango Board, a marketing organization for mangoes in the US, built a campaign renaming the Ataulfo to the “honey mango,” reasoning that Americans had a hard time pronouncing the original name. And so the two mango types “mango” and “honey” sit unremarkably on shelves and Instacard search results, one creamier than the other and with hundreds of years of global trade history.

In the last week another premium mango grabbed the spotlight with the full weight of history. The Wall Street Journal, The Financial Times and the Week reported on a scramble for the Alphonso mango among America’s (and Britain’s) elite. Known as “the king of mangoes” in India, it’s prized and expensive, known for a deep flavor and creamy texture (I have sadly not tried it). With disruption in global trade these have become even more valuable at $50+ for a dozen, leaving us with a third mango option that you’ll have to shell out for. There are signs of serious fruit culture, but so often it’s relegated to rarefied spaces, leaving the rest of us with contextless fruit.

In Season

• Berries: strawberries had a tough time in the Northeast from late frost but are picking up. Expect to see blueberries and raspberries in farmers markets imminently

• Early Stone Fruit: apricots are getting into peak and some early cherry varieties may start popping up (depending on where you’re based)

• Late Season Citrus: only two-ish weeks of Ojai Pixie season and Gold Nugget mandarins are still around. Both delicious.

Fruit Culture

• Kacey Musgraves performed her new song “Dry Spell” at the American Country Music awards over the weekend in a cheeky Country Mart set with peaches, figs, melons and bananas. It reminded me of when opulent grocery stores were a fixture on TV and in media (supermarket sweep?). We used to romanticize the supermarket, but now we only do when its Erewhon or Meadow Lane

• Prada collaborated with Milanese fruit stand Frutteto Garibaldi. It’s fitting that they’re showcasing a cologne with fruit, but more deeply there’s something luxurious about the old-world fruit stand. Stores with only one purpose that don’t need to maximize convenience.

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