If you’re south Asian and have even a passing interest in food, you’ll know that now is a special time of year: mango season. I’m not talking about the robust, firm-fleshed ones that are usually grown in the Americas and available year-round in supermarkets, but the far rarer varieties grown in India, prized for their delicate, perfumed, sunset-coloured flesh. The alphonso is the so-called ‘king’ of mangos but, in our house, it was always the kesar that was prized above all else. As a child, my parents would slice them up with a sharp knife to be wolfed down by greedy mouths. This year, I’ll be using them to flavour a simple but luxurious dessert of baked yoghurt. Enjoyed with a little extra fresh mango on the side, of course.
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I love mango but I love mango juice instead
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