Having lived in Asia for several years, I developed an unfortunate love for mangosteens. At the time I had no idea that they would be so difficult, essentially impossible, to find after I left. Not only are they my favorite fruit on the palate, they're my favorite to behold. I never grew complacent about cutting into the luxurious purple orb and finding the snow-white clusters of tangy goodness inside.
That's been many decades ago but I've continued following the story about somehow getting fresh mangosteens in the US.
So, imagine my pleasure a few years back to read that they were being imported.
Houston has one of the largest Asian immigrant populations in the US and, as a result, a great many Asian markets. I've found fresh mangosteens in the produce department at 99 Ranch, H-Mart, Thai Lao, Viet Hoa, among others. And, despite the fact that even from the outside they're not so beautiful as the ones I routinely bought when I lived in Asia, I paid (dearly, as Huiray says) for them and took them home.
Cutting into them is heartbreaking. Hoping to see fat white juicy sweet tangy clusters nestled in their purple nest and finding instead small ugly brown tasteless ones finally became just too much to bear.
I've given up.
Such a longing persists, however. Sometimes I've even wondered if perhaps I would have been better off not to have fallen in love with them in the first place.
But it's true. With the mangosteen as with other things, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
