The knife slices through the refreshingly green kairi.
A burst of tangy aroma yields through its firm white insides. A childhood summer fragrance fills the air as the years fall away with each cut and the tongue releases its full bodied, sharp, smacking taste.
Coated with red, flaming, succulent spices and drizzled with a liberally dashed tadka of oil, the glass jars are happily filled to the brim, inviting a year long sinful indulgence. The raw mango pickle is ready, very old fashioned and simply ageless.