Mango Plumpness

Some people tell me I’m looking skinny. I haven’t really noticed, but I believe them. Eating rice instead of pasta, and walking around in 100 degree heat, would do it to anyone. By the time May is over, though, I expect I’ll be back at my American weight. Why? It’s mango season.

In these parts, April is not only the peak month for outside temperature, but also for the world’s most consumed and number one selling fruit. And we’re not talking about that mushy, stringy, been-in-a-refrigerated-truck-for-the-last-three-weeks-since-it-was-plucked-too-early-off-the-tree-in-Mexico mango. Over here, the mango is as close as a fruit gets to being ice cream. You don’t even have to chew. It goes down that easy.

What’s more, the ripe mango in Thailand often gets served with a wicked accompaniment of sticky rice, coconut milk, sugar and salt. This combination has been known to add more spare tires to more foreigners’ middles than the all-you-can-eat cafeterias add pounds to unsuspecting freshmen during their first semester at college.

So fear not. At my current rate of one plate of “khao-niao-mamuang” per day, being skinny is the least of my worries. Here’s a recipe. To make it really authentic, toast up some sesame seeds and sprinkle those on top.