I made a Goan prawn curry today and added raw mangoes to make it extra tangy. I've always loved raw mangoes in fish and prawn curries so I was really looking forward to lunch. While the mackerels were sizzling away in the pan and the sautéed cabbage was being reheated in the microwave, I served myself some curry and put a spoonful into my mouth. It was just as tangy and creamy as I like it. Then I bit into a piece of raw mango that had simmered in the curry for a while. As its sour-sweet flesh danced inside my mouth, I was instantly taken back to my childhood. I remembered my Granny and how much she loved mangoes.

Who doesn't love mangoes, right? But here's the thing - my Granny didn't just love mangoes, she would eat them with anything. I'm talking about ripe mangoes here, and one of her favourite things to pair them with was fish curry and rice. That's right, she would serve herself huge slices of fresh ripe mangoes and eat them with her main meal! I've never seen anyone else do that ever! The first time I saw Granny eat ripe mangoes with rice and curry, I said, "Yuck! What's wrong with you?" She just laughed and said it's delicious and I should try it. I first refused but later, with a little prodding from Granny, I did try it out of curiosity. I took a spoonful of rice mixed with fish curry and just as I had half-finished chewing it, I bit into a piece of the juicy sweet mango. I was blown away! It tasted so good that it was unbelievable.

After that, whenever we ate fish curry and rice in summer (which was every day!), both Granny and I would make sure there was ripe mango as well in our plates, and we'd usually split one. Then, after we were done, we would eat one mango each for dessert smile emoticon
Now, decades later, I realize how it taught me to be open to new things and experiences. I remember some years ago, when I used to write a food column and restaurant reviews for a newspaper in Chennai, I'd gone to check out a new place at a five-star hotel. They had this hot new Kiwi chef from Australia or the other way round, I forget which. Anyway, he came out and introduced himself to us and told us what we could expect over the course of our meal. Among the starters, he said, he would send us a couple of slices of thin-crust pizza. "It's a tandoori pizza with prawns, cheese, fenugreek leaves, mint and yoghurt," he explained. My dinner companion and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes, and when the chef went back into the kitchen, we contemplated making a quick exit! Tandoori pizza, with prawns and fenugreek leaves and yoghurt! WTH!

Anyway the pizza arrived and it did look pretty, and I've always been a fan of thin crusts. I took one bite of it and closed my eyes in ecstasy, it was so good! I wanted more but the chef would have none of it because he was sending us a huge rack of lamb for the mains. And it was a fine rack of lamb indeed (the meat was imported from some impressive Western country, I forget which one) but I couldn't stop thinking about that unusual pizza.

Even now, people are always asking me how I eat my curries and meats without any rice, bread or rotis. And I tell them I just do. Because one day, I decided to try it for the sake of my health, and you know what, I liked it. I'm glad I have an open mind or else I would have been the poorer for it. So, thank you Granny, for unwittingly passing on so much to me. Your love for good food and trying out new things in the kitchen, and the joy you experienced in cooking and feeding people. Your innate talent in getting it right even if you were trying something for the first time, and your ability to salvage a dish that had gone wrong. I've inherited it all, and for that, I'll always be grateful.
I just realized that it's been years since I’ve eaten ripe mangoes with my fish curry and rice. I must have stopped when Granny died. Well, I can't eat mangoes or rice now but maybe this summer, I will just once. For Granny, and that first time I experienced the happy surprise of an unusual combination.