Exquisite

Last week we told the story of how I acquired my Ice Cream mango tree, in a 10-gallon pot back in the spring of 2014. But the new arrival didn't look very happy--- it tilted quite a bit in the pot, and there were little drip stains where sap seeped out and run a ways down the trunk. All through the summer, it sat there forlornly, and when fall came, I decided to try putting it in the ground.

By then I had heard some negative reports about the suitability of the Ice Cream variety for Florida. No less an authority than Noris Ledesma says that it doesn't do well here. I didn't really want to invest a prime sunny spot in a questionable producer. But there was a place near the garden, shaded through mid-day, where a dwarf tree would fit nicely.

Late in November came the planting day. I moved the potted tree in a wheelbarrow, and dug a hole that looked to be about the right size. I gently eased the root ball out of the container. Turning to put the container on the ground, I could just barely see the rootball roll to one side of the light wheelbarrow which, now overweighted by tree and rootball, began tipping toward the hole. It seemed like slow motion, but unfortunately my reaction time was equally slowed, and the wheelbarrow crashed on its side. Amazingly, the root ball slid out and dropped into the hole, with the tree standing upright. It was as though it was eager to get into the ground in that very spot. Just my imagination, no doubt. No doubt.

The self-planting fruit tree looked close to vertical, so I just packed in some soil, added some toppings--- composted manure, Fertrell, and a thick layer of mulch--- and kept it moist for a few weeks.

Through 2015, our little hero gradually started looking better. In the spring, it made some fruit and promptly dropped it. As the year went on, it grew a bit, and the seeping sap diminished and eventually disappeared.

Last spring several fruit made it past the formative stage, then fell off or disappeared one-by-one until only the last remained, nestled in a cluster of leaves. Dreading a night-time raid, I checked it each morning. A line of little black spots appeared on the side, then another. Finally, July arrived. The fruit still showed no color, but it was now or never.

The little mango weighed in at more than nine ounces, not unreasonable for this small-fruited variety. As the days passed, more black specks appeared, and when the fruit softened a bit, it was time to give it a try.

Last fall I asked Wayne Clifton which variety of mango tastes best. He thought it over, then surprised me by saying that for him, it was Ice Cream. So I was eager to see whether this one was better than it looked. And the flavor was--- exquisite! Rich, perfectly balanced, sweet but not candy sweet, and a melt-in-your-mouth feel that no doubt inspired the name. As good as any other mango I've had.

A rare treat.