It must be a tough job to be able to pick the best mango in my hometown of Iba, Zambales. Why, because almost all the mangoes that came from there would be considered the best and the sweetest. Our mangoes are sweet, juicy and the texture is so smooth almost like a custard with no fibers at all. Whatever the categories they are looking for the judges would have a hard time.
Every year, our town will hold a”Mango Festival” in time for the mango season. The town hall would be filled with booths full of mangoes, arts and crafts, and some rides and games. There would also be a contest for cooking which uses the mango as the main ingredient. I would make mango bread if I am there to join.
The mangoes that I grew up with to me is the best. My grandparents have a few trees in their yard and they are all different types or variety. During the summer harvest, they have big baskets they call “kaing” which is made of bamboo, weaved into a basket, lined with dried stalks of bananas. The liner will prevent the fruits from bruising. My grandma would already have contracted the fruits so whatever is left would be for us to enjoy. I remember almost all the corners of the house is filled with mangoes waiting to be ripened. I have fun eating ripe mangoes for dessert everyday until they are all gone.