My wife and I spent the week in the interior of Taiwan where Shuyuan spent her childhood. In that town there is a street that functions as an open farmer’s market.
Walk along that street, as Shuyuan did yesterday, and it is next to impossible to come home empty-handed. Some mangoes that looked vaguely like others we had seen around here ended up on our table.
Shuyuan told how she had bought them from a little old farmer woman from the countryside who said the mangoes were from a very old tree she had on her property.
The big surprise came when I peeled and bit into one of them this morning. It might not have looked like anything special, but it was. The taste took me right back to my childhood on the Isle of Pines, Cuba.