Perhaps the most eagerly-anticipated fruit export in years, boxes of Indian mangoes have started cropping up in a few city delis, after a 20-year ban. Most Americans have only tasted Mexican or Guatemalan mangoes, whose stringy flesh and faint sweetness pales next to the Indian variety, kinda the way that canned fruit cocktail stacks up to fresh produce. The FDA’s concern over pesticides used by Indian farmers halted the mango trade until George W Bush lifted the ban in 2006, as part of larger trade and nuclear cooperation agreements. Currently, only 2 of the 1500 varieties grown in India (which produces 50% of the world’s supply) are allowed in the US, under condition that they be treated with irradiation to eliminate seed weevils: the alphonso and the kesar.

I tried an alphonso, fondly known as the king of fruits, after my snacking associate spotted some in a box at Dual Specialty Store, an Indian deli on First Avenue. The mango’s flesh was firm but more creamy than pulpy, and the outer layers had, in addition to an intense mango taste, notes of floral and spice. Towards the middle the mango turned sweeter, more honey-and-vanilla, dribbling juice that ran down my wrists. Eating mangoes is a messy business, best enjoyed with someone you love.

So of course, it was back to Dual for more mangoes. I picked out two green ones, wrapped in styrofoam nets, hoping that they will ripen to golden yellow. Since they were an exorbitant $3.50 each, I also picked up a more reasonably-priced $1.50 Mexican mango, which was bigger and promisingly shaded vivid red and gold. Compared to the Alphonso it fell flat. There was no complexity, little flavor, and pulpy bits. The man at the counter said they were running low on the alphonsos, but they would be getting some kesars in soon (sure enough, the first sea shipment left Mumbai on June 12 and is due this week). And then, since mango season ends in June, and there are still few importers, there will likely be no more til next year. For now, Patel Brothers in Jackson Heights might be another likely source. Get them while you can, because mango fanatics will be snapping them up.

Dual Specialty Store
91 First Avenue between 5th st. and 6t st.
11am-midnight

French toast is one if my favorite foods, but I get to indulge so rarely. On weekend mornings I’m usually too unsociable to eat out, and cooking is the last thing I want to do. If someone made a tasty take-out version, I’d probably eat it every day.

Abraco Espresso‘s version of pain perdu (or “lost bread,” since in France the traditional recipe calls for stale bread) is the french toast sandwich I’ve been missing. A slice of moist, eggy challah is folded over ricotta filling, dusted with powdered sugar, and wrapped in wax paper for no-fuss nibbling. The ricotta is like no other I’ve tasted, creamy and spiked with orange blossom, which adds just a hint of fruity, floral flavor. The pain perdu is pre-made–perfect when you’re on the go, costs $3, and is just the right mount of food to quell morning munchies. At first I was a little hesitant about eating room temperature french toast without syrup and other accoutrements, but now I’m a complete convert.

I’ve written about Abraco Espresso before. This closet-size cafe has great service with great attitude, top espresso and coffee, and delicious edibles like salads, sandwiches, and daydream-worthy frittata. The buttery-salty-sweet olive oil cookies flecked with raisiny dried olives are also not to be missed–mind you, this comes from someone who doesn’t even like olives.

Abraco Espresso, 86 E. 7th St.
Mon-Fri 7:30am-8pm, Sat 8am-8pm, Sun 9am-8pm

Update 4/2/09: Baoguette has opened up an East Village location.

In terms of bang for your buck, it doesn’t get any better than bahn mi. These famously cheap Vietnamese sandwiches combine French ingredients like baguette, pate and mayo with far-east flavors like pickled veggies, daikon, and grilled pork. Most bahn mi shops are tucked into storefronts in Chinatown and the LES, but Baogette brings the kickass snack uptown, to Lexington Avenue.

I ordered a classic baogette which came stuffed with the above-mentioned ingredients, in addition to cilantro, hot peppers, pork belly slices, tofu strips, a dash of sriracha (on request), and something I can only describe as a vaugely fishy aura, which must be a splash of fish sauce. All this cost a mere $5, which is actually a little steep for bahn mi, but the ingredients were clearly high-quality and the portion was quite large.

My gripe about the baogette is its proportions were off–too much carrot and daikon, not enough pork, and a bit too much pate for my palette (I admit, pate is not one of my favorite foods). The baguette is from TomKat Bakery (the same bread used in Cafe Condesa’s french toast); it was so hard I had difficulty biting into it. A few little adjustments and this could be a terrific sandwich, but this qualified as okay-for-five-bucks. I guess after reading excellent reviews on SeriousEats and elsewhere, I was expecting something more.

Ah, well. I still might head back to try the less-traditional “sloppy bao,” with curried beef and green mango!

Baogette
61 Lexington Avenue at 25th Street. Mon-Sat 8am-8pm

After a hard day’s night of bar-hopping, one bite of Crif Dog’s “chihuahua,” a smoked, deep-fried hot dog wrapped in bacon and topped with avocado and sour cream, practically made my face explode with happiness. A below-street-level dude’s hangout replete with 80s arcade games Millipede and Spy Hunter, sports on TV, and the smell of waffle fries lingering on the air, Crif Dogs is just the late-night spot to hit up when a dog smothered with fried egg and cheese is the best idea you’ve ever heard of. But even for a quick snack, these aint half bad if you don’t care about blowing your diet all to hell. Just be sure to try a one that’s spiraled in bacon, which adds a crisp, salty kick to whatever creative combination of toppings you can dream up. If you’re used to Gray’s Papaya prices, be prepared for sticker shock, as these dogs range from $2.75 to $5.00, but the toppings are generous and really make the whole experience.

Note the sliding wooden door on the left wall when you’re walking in, and the window behind the counter through which orders seem to disappear. Next door is speakeasy-themed lounge PDT, an upscale spot for masterful cocktails where you can order food from Crif Dogs. It’s a strange juxtaposition but worth checking out.

Crif Dogs/PDT
113 Saint Marks Place between First Avenue and Avenue A
Sun-Mon: 12pm-12am Tue-Thu: 12pm-2am Fri-Sat: 12pm-4am

Well this is terrible news. Joe Ades, peddler of vegetable peelers and sidewalk personality has died, as reported by the New York Times. Always stylishly dressed in a sportcoat or vest, peeling carrots with orange-stained, latex-gloved fingers, Joe reeled in window shoppers all over town with his cockney carnival barker’s voice, pushing $5 peelers with more passion than an army of QVC showmen. Joe, it turns out, lived in a swanky Upper East Side apartment (and he always seemed especially proud of his appearance in Vanity Fair). I’ve stopped to watch him in Union Square in the dead of winter and Soho under the beating sun, always joking with customers and adding to his fistful of cash. It always struck me how much he seemed to enjoy his job. I’ll miss seeing him.