I still hanker for the taste of the tree ripened mangoes we would gather early morning under our mango tree. We headed there as soon as we woke up and when we're lucky one of those that ripened in the branches we could hardly reach. I still remember the smell and the taste.
Where I grew up, each village claimed they grew the best mango. Who knows. And I thought that my country had the best mango until I visited Pakistan and happened to be there for the mango season. The hotel laid out various kinds of mangoes, at least 60 types. Some, I have never seen or tasted before. What a revelation. One bubble burst but wisdom gained.