The arrival of the pop-up honey mango stalls around Govanhill and Pollokshields have come to mark the beginning of summer in the neighbourhood. During South Asian Heritage Month, Samar Jamal delves into the heritage of this popular fruit and what it means to South Asian communities across the Southside.

By Samar Jamal | Mango print by Kieron Redmond

During the long, dark winter days, I find myself yearning for the warmth of summer. The sight of yellow boxes stacked outside pop-up honey mango stalls, spilling onto the pavements, is always a sweet indication that the season is just around the corner. The first bite of a ripe mango is like a burst of sunshine in your mouth. Buying my first box of honey mangoes of the season always feels precious. I carefully carry the aromatic box home, popping the colourful confetti stickers on my fridge as a keepsake of this much-anticipated but short-lived season.

Personally, once I’ve given the mango a rinse, I slice it into four pieces. As I take the first bite, the juicy pulp melts in my mouth, perfectly balancing sweetness and tanginess, contrasting with the slight fibrousness near the pit, a result of my too eager slicing. The earliest records of mangoes in Europe can be traced back to 1498 when colonial Portuguese traders introduced the fruit to the world as mango. The word derives from the Tamil word for mango tree: man.

So it comes as no surprise that in Glasgow’s Southside, which is home to a large number of people from the South Asian community in Scotland, the golden fruit is found in abundance during summer. You’ll find them in most locally run grocers, like Mr. Khan’s on Victoria Road, World Foods on Nithsdale Road, and the Fruit & Veg store on Allison Street. You can also buy them from pop-up stores that appear for just a few weeks a year, reminiscent of the vibrant street markets in South Asia, bringing a taste of home to the community.

Mangoes are a versatile fruit – the sweet pulp can be extracted to form the base of thick milkshakes and smoothies or combined with yoghurt to create a frothy, tangy glass of lassi. They can also be used in sweet preserves or pickles, or chopped into salads. Often they are simply enjoyed with the flesh cut from the stone and eaten in its soft, silky form. While the mango is loved for its taste, for many, it is more than just a fruit; it’s a reflection of home, a symbol of love, highlighting the intersections between heritage and food.

Suffian, the manager of World Food, shares how customers eagerly await the mango season. Each year, he gets in touch with his supplier who imports various types of mangoes, but it is the honey variety that’s particularly popular, with a short season from late May to July. They’re quite expensive compared to other fruit, but he says, “We don’t make much money selling the mangoes; the profit is about 50 pence a box. So it’s not about the money. It’s for our customers who come in knowing that they’re going to have something from home.”

This deep connection to mangoes is not a recent phenomenon for Suffian, who grew up on the other side of the Southside in Bellahouston. He recalls fond memories of tracking them down: “I’m 60 now. When I was younger, there were only a handful of shops selling mangoes in areas like Bellahouston, so we would go to Pollokshields. You couldn’t get them in as many shops then, but they were cheaper to buy – you used to get seven in a box.”

The cultural significance of mangoes in Glasgow was celebrated at Rumpus Room’s ‘Mango Party’ last year. It was a tribute to the season’s debut of the juicy fruit, coupled with ongoing workshops at Rumpus Room, which were held in partnership with the OSCH (Our Shared Cultural Heritage) and Uronto, a Bangladesh-based artist collective.

Miriam Ali, who photographed the Mango Party, also has many fond childhood memories of the fruit: “From a young age, I remember seeing the aunties in the shops sifting through the boxes trying to get the best ones and then seeing my dad do the same.” Over the years, she says her association with mangoes has been coupled with the long summer days of Ramadan when iftari (sunset meal) passed through solstice: “I always looked forward to cutting mangoes in the fruit chaat for iftari and eating them at sehri (dawn meal).”

Archival manuscripts offer a glimpse into the mango’s early presence in Scotland. Scottish colonial officer James Forbes, who spent 18 years in India, was particularly fascinated by the fruit. In his letters home, he wrote: ‘If you can conceive a fine nectarine, improved by the flavour of the pineapple, and still heightened by the orange, you may form some idea of a choice mango.’

For Humza, who works at the Fruit & Veg store on Allison Street, it’s his first mango season since moving to Glasgow. His memories of eating mangoes come from picking them fresh: “In the summertime, we would wait for the sun to go down. It’s the best time to walk to the muraba (farmland). There would be a 20-minute journey through the dusty roads before we got there.”

Now far from home, the fruit still evokes strong feelings of nostalgia and belonging for Humza: “Here in Glasgow, there are so many mangoes everywhere. Whenever I take a bite, it feels like I’m back home. There are so many types, but the Chaunsa is my favourite.”

Similarly, for resident Sehar, there is a deep nostalgia for mangoes: “My grandmother in Pakistan owns mango trees, and those groves are my clearest memories of my paternal home in Pakistan. I think about them a lot, especially their transformation from pink and yellow clusters into bright gold. Back when I was a kid growing up in Pollokshields, any relatives who went to Pakistan would bring back boxes and bags of mangoes from those trees, dropping off a few at our house. It’s a precious memory. The sight of mangoes split me in two; half of me misses those groves that I spent hours exploring, and the other half loves the communal feeling of eating mangoes together with friends and family in the Southside.”

With hundreds of varieties, there is a mango for everyone. For many, the Chaunsa (or Chausa) mango—also known as the honey mango—is a household name for its sweetness. It was named by the Indian ruler Sher Shah Suri to commemorate his victory in the 16th-century Battle of Chausa. Other varieties, like the Anwar Ratol (named after the person who cultivated it), are smaller with thicker skin. Miriam shares childhood memories of her dad squishing the mango in his hands, removing the stalk, and handing it to her and her brother to slurp out the pulp.

The mango represents the integral role of agriculture throughout South Asia and the legacy of those who spent their lives cultivating it. This practice is tied to seasonal cycles, festivals, and rituals. Their names, cultivation, and consumption reflect deep connections to heritage and tradition, making them a vital link between past and present.