Confession: I Murdered a Mango

Let’s begin with the homicide that occurred in my kitchen this morning, shall we?

It was a quite Sunday morning, I awoke early to head across the road to the park – dumbbells in tow – for my Tough Mudder training.

All was well (apart from feeling physically ill from training) and I truged my way back up to my apartment with my mind on one thing: MANGO. Yesterday, after celebrating Ethiopian (or, Orthodox in general) Christmas at my boyfriend’s mothers house, I was given a bag full of food – injera, siga wat, mesir wat, basil, rosemary, strange cup-a-soup stuff and the mango.

christmas lunch leftovers for last night's dinner

So, anyway, I was given a mango and had plans of juicing that baby for my post-training morning juice. Now, my brand new, shiny, whizz bang juicer may be brand new, shiny and whizz bang but unfortunately the juicing of a mango in this machine first requires said mango to be peeled and pitted. “Sure thing! No worries! Easy done!” I thought. Little did I know what was to come…

I have never peeled a mango in my life. There, I said it. Weird, I know. I have long been impressed by the skilful way so many of my friends a family members slice up a mango all too casually into to enviable little cubes, like this…

Mango, манго - дары тропиков

oh, perfect little cubes, how you taunt me!

Now, I have observed this technique in passing and I thought I had it down. How wrong I was. I started by cutting my mango in half. Only to encounter the giant mother of a seed in the middle. Yes, I knew it was going to be there, but when I got to it I was stumped. “How do I get those nice little semi-circle “cheeks” from which I gracefully slice my perfect little cubes?”, I pondered. I was then left to rip off the skin of the mango, crudely scraping the sweet, orange flesh from the thick outer layer. My next dilemma: “How on earth do I get the fruit off that goddamn seed?”. Try as I might – or should I say, scrape as I might – I had very little luck removing the flesh from that whale of a seed (I mean really, they charge us for that? Mangoes are pricey as it is!).

And thus, at approximately 8:54am on Sunday, January 8th 2012, a murder was committed in my kitchen. The crime scene was not a pretty sight…

mango murder

ALAS! All hope was not lost. From the ashes of a brutally murdered mango rises the almighty juice. Some kiwi and strawberries were willing to sacrifice themselves as well and later persuaded an apple and a pear to join their humble pursuit.


The end result: juice perfection

So, while my mango made the ultimate sacrifice – it all worked out for the best. He’s in a better place now – aka “my belly”.

Eleanor x

Note: I found this video on YouTube far too late. I now realise that (attempting to) cut it in half was possibly the worst decision ever made. Instead, one should cut the mango twice. On either side of that mother of a seed.

You learn something new every day, don’t you?