Memorial Day weekend. Raj and I went to my parents' house for a barbecue, which is what Appa calls it even though there is no barbecue involved — just Amma's cooking served outside because the weather is nice and Appa bought patio furniture from Costco that he is determined to use.
Arvind came up from Trenton. He looks good — healthy, more settled than he was a year ago. He's been working HVAC for three years now and he's good at it. Really good. The kind of good that comes from understanding systems intuitively, the way some people understand music or math. Appa doesn't say this, but I can see him watching Arvind work on the air conditioning unit he brought as a gift for the patio ("it was sitting in the warehouse, Akka, don't worry about it") and there's something in Appa's face that looks like pride he doesn't know how to express.
Arvind and I sat on the patio after everyone else went inside and talked the way we only talk when it's just us. He asked about India. I told him about the village, about Paati's kitchen, about the brass tumbler. He got quiet and said, "I should go." He's never been. Amma and Appa took me when I was twelve, but Arvind was nine and had school and they couldn't afford two tickets. Then came the arrest at seventeen, and the years of silence between him and Appa, and India became something that belonged to everyone else in the family but not to him.
"You should," I said. "You would love it."
"Maybe," he said. Then: "Do you think Appa would come?"
I didn't know what to say to that. Appa and Arvind — they're better now. The silence between them has warmed from frozen to cool. But a trip to India together? That's a different kind of proximity.
"Maybe someday," I said. He nodded and opened another beer and we watched the sun go down over Edison, New Jersey, which is not India but is the place our parents built when they left India, and that has to count for something.
Amma made her usual Memorial Day spread: chicken biryani (because guests expect meat), sambar (because Amma expects sambar at every meal), raita (because Appa likes raita), and mango kulfi that she made from scratch because she saw an ice cream maker at the Indian grocery store and couldn't resist.
The kulfi was incredible. Amma, who has never eaten ice cream willingly, has apparently been hiding a frozen dessert talent. Arvind ate four servings. Appa ate two. Raj, who is perpetually watching his cholesterol because he is a cardiologist and cardiologists are the worst patients, ate one and looked longingly at the container.
I ate three. No regrets.
I’ve been thinking about that kulfi ever since Memorial Day — specifically about how Amma, who has spent sixty-some years on this earth avoiding ice cream, apparently just needed the right fruit all along. Until I can replicate her exact recipe (she waves her hand and says “you just know when it’s ready,” which is not a recipe), this Mango-Rita Green Smoothie is the closest I can get to that same hit of cold, sweet mango on a warm evening. Arvind would approve. Raj could have two without worrying about his cholesterol. Appa, I think, would quietly go back for seconds.
Mango-Rita Green Smoothie
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 2 cups frozen mango chunks
- 1 cup fresh baby spinach, loosely packed
- 3/4 cup coconut water (or plain water)
- 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
- 1 tablespoon honey or agave nectar, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon lime zest
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 1/2 cup ice cubes
- Lime wedges and a pinch of Tajin or chili salt, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Blend the base. Add the coconut water and spinach to a blender first. Blend on medium speed for about 20 seconds until the spinach is fully broken down and no large leaf pieces remain.
- Add the mango. Add the frozen mango chunks, lime juice, lime zest, honey, and sea salt. Blend on high for 45–60 seconds until completely smooth and creamy. Scrape down the sides as needed.
- Adjust and finish. Taste and add more honey or lime juice to your preference. Add the ice and blend for another 15 seconds until thick and frosty.
- Serve immediately. Pour into two chilled glasses. If you like, run a lime wedge around the rim and dip it in Tajin for a little heat. Serve right away — the smoothie is best the moment it’s made.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 165 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 41g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 290mg
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 10 of Priya’s 30-year story
· Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.