The waitress brought out the halves of mango, golden and sunny, lying next to rice with its glistening coat of sugary coconut milk. The mangoes were cool and the meat thick, the juices filled my mouth. Then, a bite of coconut rice, still warm from the cooker, light and airy and sweet. The cool mango and warm rice mixed in my mouth and I felt myself melt a little. My eyes must have fluttered and my jaw would have dropped if I didn’t want to keep the food from falling out of it.
Evrim and I couldn’t keep our sighs to ourselves. We must have looked like some food perverts, gasping over every bite, babbling about it as though it were ambrosia. It was such a deceptively simple dessert. So many flavors filled my mouth that to this day I get a little excited when looking at it, or contemplating ordering it. It reminds me of that summer day with an old friend discovering a love of simple and delicious food.