Mango

Sauce is basically salt in liquid form, gussied up with any manner of delicious glutamates, lipids, acids, and aromatics. There are nuances, sure, but the nuances are, well, nuances. Sauces can be more than that. Mango salsa is an example of a sauce so succulent that it challenges the raison d’être of the food for which it was created. Tacos, empanadas, tortilla chips, hamburgers, pizza—all become mere delivery vehicles for the lush, tart, spicy salsa. All the more so when the salt is introduced as a distinctive ingredient in its own right. Confettied with onyx black or garnet red crystals of Hawaiian salt, this salsa brings a firecracker pop of festivity that celebrates saucing not just for flavor, but as visual and textural celebration of food. Use it atop anything from fried fish tacos to green salad to yogurt to steak.

Habaneros are wonderful citrus-infused chiles that come to us from Mexico. If you can’t find habaneros, substitute a couple of jalapeño peppers and a splash of orange juice. Habaneros are powerful and will sting badly if accidentally rubbed near the eyes, so always wear gloves when handling them. Serve with the Stuffed Poblano Chile Peppers (page 165).

A pickle can be a symphony of flavors. Be creative with pickling spices—try throwing in the whole kitchen sink if you like. Experiment with different accents: cumin seeds and coriander for an Indian pickle; caraway, celery, and mustard seeds to evoke Eastern European flavors; ginger, garlic, bruised lemongrass, and a shot of soy for a taste of Southeast Asia. For a crisp pickle start with crisp fruits and vegetables; those that are just shy of ripe work well.

One day while wasting the afternoon flipping through the television channels (what did we do before the remote control?), I stopped when I came across a not-very-well-choreographed procession of statuesque, exotically beautiful women parading across a stage. After a few minutes of riveted attention, I realized that I’d happened upon the Miss Martinique pageant. Once the glamorous gals had strutted their stuff wearing barely-there bikinis, teetering around precariously on steep high heels (it seemed the smaller the swimsuit, the higher the heels), the contest concluded with the host posing the all important question about why the pageant was so vital for promoting world peace and understanding. One of the contestants flashed her big, bright smile, looked right into the camera, and responded, “Because beauty is the key to communication.” With a thought-provoking answer like that, awarding the crown to anyone else would have been a crime. And sure enough, she won. But maybe she got mixed up and was talking about mangoes, the other beauties of the tropics. Their vibrant red exterior and succulent orange pulp do indeed communicate beauty and good taste that are not just skin deep.

Mangoes, like most tropical fruits, will tip you off to their ripeness with their aroma. A good, ripe mango has a heady, syrupy scent, and when you hold it in your hand, it should feel slightly soft and a bit too heavy for its size. Although the plump, sweeter varieties, such as Hayden and Tommy Atkins, are the most tempting, slender and wrinkly Champagne or Manila mangoes that you might come across will surprise you with their gentle nuances. Depending on which variety you choose to use in this sauce, start with the smaller amount of sugar and add more if necessary. A spoonful of mango sauce is a nice complement to Coconut and Tropical Fruit Trifle (page 70) or scoops of Toasted Coconut Sherbet (page 152) nestled in cookie cups made with Sesame-Orange Almond Tuiles (page 212).

Many consider the area behind the Gare du Nord in Paris rather dubious. Yes, it’s home to the Paris headquarters for the Hell’s Angels. But lots of amazing ethnic foods can also be found there, for which I’m happy to brave the bikers and travel a bit out of the way. Of the various cultures that have opened restaurants and grocers in that part of Paris, Indian is the most prominent. At night, the blue neon–illuminated stands of the Indian épiceries feature all sorts of odd-looking produce that remain a mystery to me. But I do know mangoes. During their season in late spring, I head to that neighborhood and buy them by the case. I use them in everything, from tropical fruit salads to mango daiquiris (which I’m sure aren’t as popular with the Hell’s Angels as they are with my crowd). But a few invariably get churned up into a batch of this sorbet, along with a basket of strawberries from my local market and a dash of rum, which even the gruffest biker couldn’t resist.

One of the questions I’m often asked is “How do you stay so thin?” I want to respond by saying that I’m about average for my height and age, but instead I tell people that I eat only my own desserts. I’m not just being a salesman, it’s close to the truth. Aside from the occasional treat, for everyday meals, I prefer to make desserts that are well balanced rather than outrageously rich. I’ll often serve small slivers of cake, a plate of cookies, or scoops of icy sorbet along with a fresh fruit compote and have never met with resistance from any of my guests. When it comes to this virtuous fruit soup, the thin sheet of crackly coconut meringue always seals the deal for those who are doubtful that lean can taste luxurious.

I’ve found that as I get older, I tend to forget about the things that aren’t all that important to me, like paying bills, what day it is, and so on. But I never, ever forget a dessert. A few decades ago, some friends who had lived in Brazil for a few years invited me for dinner and served bien me sabe, a moist concoction of sponge cake and coconut cream. And I never got it out of my head how fantastic that simple combination tasted. Years later, when I was the pastry chef at a restaurant that specialized in Asian cooking, I had the opportunity to seek out and use all sorts of tropical fruit, many of which I hadn’t ever seen before. And I thought bien me sabe would be the perfect backdrop for a jumble of exotic flavors. Although I’ve used the types of tropical fruit that are the most widely available, feel free to add or use others in place of what I’ve suggested. But just be sure to heat them through, as most tropical fruits contain a heat-sensitive enzyme that causes custards to break down. I learned this the hard way. I like the way large shreds of fresh coconut look on top of this dessert. If you have the inclination, crack one open, shave off large shards, and toast them to use as garnish.

This light, playful salad can wear several pairs of shoes. While substantial enough to be a main course when you just don’t feel like heating up the kitchen, it also makes a great mealtime bookend, equally pleasing as an inviting appetizer or as an exotic dessert.

This type of ice is very popular, and why wouldn’t it be? It has the perfect combination of sweet ripe mangoes, spiciness, a little acidity, and saltiness. This recipe calls for chamoy, a sauce or condiment made from pickled fruit, usually apricots or plums. Chamoy is a little salty and acidic and it’s an acquired taste, but I personally love it and encourage you to try it if you haven’t.

This is a simple, yet totally memorable, way to serve rice pudding as a special dessert. The coconut cream and tropical fruits make a perfect ending to a Latin- or Island-themed menu. You can find sweet brown rice at natural food stores.

This is a whole grain, sugar-free version of a classic sponge cake. It’s light, contains no butter or oil, and freezes wonderfully. You can make the pastry cream up to 3 days in advance.

This recipe is a little like karaoke: not exactly the original, but still a a lot of fun, and without all the production. One of my fondest kitchen memories is making the dessert or sweet topping that the French call sabayon and the Italians call zabaglione. A combination of whisked egg yolks, marsala wine, and sugar, it’s a high-wire act that has to go right from the heat to the plate. Get it right, and it’s a froth of pure delight. Put it under the flame for a few seconds too long, and you’re toast. This immensely more healthful version, which features mango and coconut, provides a similarly flavorful lightness, minus the need for perfectly timed kitchen pyrotechnics. It’s great alone, or serve it drizzled over berries or rice pudding.

Avocado sure knows how to tango with mango. As a taste and texture combo, it’s one of the most refreshing two-steps I’ve come across. Mangoes are sweet, but not overly so. Avocados are creamy, but with some heft. Together, they make for a fantastic salsa that’s especially great for people dealing with a metallic taste in the mouth due to treatment. With the added perkiness of the red bell pepper, cilantro, and lime, this salsa whirls around the dance floor of your palate.

Coconut and mango in one drink? Yum! Coconut is one of those foods that tastes so amazing, you can’t possibly believe it’s also good for you. It’s kind of like waking up to find out that chocolate is guaranteed to grow back your hair and help you run a seven-minute mile. Coconut milk and coconut oil, which is a variation in this recipe, both contain lauric acid. Guess what else contains lauric acid? Mother’s milk. And like that most elemental of foods, the lauric acid in coconut milk and oil has antiviral and antibacterial properties. And as for fat, although coconut contains saturated fat, it’s assimilated better by the body because it’s vegetable based, not animal based (like butter). But forget all the science for a moment. You want to do the happy dance? Drink this.

This salad was inspired by one of those gorgeous, colorful Bollywood flicks that offer a feast of singing, dancing, and romance. I love Indian food, as it was my first real introduction to all things curry. Only much later did I learn that turmeric, a typical spice in curries that gives them a yellow tint, has tremendous antitumor and anti-inflammatory properties. And to think, I loved it just for its taste! Here, I was hankering for a swirl of flavors with an Indian feel. The chicken makes a great starting point because it’s full of protein and amenable to all sorts of accessorizing. In this case, the mango and raisins play delightfully off the curry spices.

While the concept of sweet-and-sour dishes is generally appealing, the execution often leaves something to be desired. Sweet-and-sour is like a seesaw; if it tilts too far in either direction, you could be thrown off balance, mangling your taste buds in the process. In this recipe I use a very light hand on both sides; the sour is a delicate brown rice vinegar, the sweet a gentle agave nectar. They dance together nicely on the tongue, more like ballet than Irish clogging. For folks who like a crunchy texture or who want to avoid fat, this one’s a winner.

This is perhaps the simplest dessert in this cookbook, and it’s also one of the tastiest. It’s extremely low in fat and full of good-for-you fruit. I make it when they’re selling cut-up mangoes on the cheap at Trader Joe’s.

Think of this no-cook soup as a Thai-flavored gazpacho. It’s best with really lush summer tomatoes. Serve with a cold noodle dish for a quick summer meal.

I’ve been finding fresh mangoes at my local grocery store often lately, but if you don’t have one, use a can of puree or fresh orange juice. If you don’t have macadamia nut oil, it’s okay to use another nut oil or even olive oil, but realize you will lose some depth of flavor. Vary your meal by changing the lentils: Red lentils will result in a mushier texture, while green lentils will offer a more al dente eating experience. I like to use white or mellow-flavored miso paste, but the strength of miso flavor is really a personal preference.