#MexicanChallenge

I’m somewhere between a ametuer and professional.

I chose to start with something simple from the Mexican Street food course.

The first bite of Mexican street mango is pure temptation — sunshine made edible, dripping down your wrist, sweet with danger and heat. It’s the kind of pleasure that doesn’t ask permission. On the streets of Mexico, mango is carved with quick, practiced hands — skewered on a stick, doused in chamoy, and dusted with chili and salt until it’s a vivid, sticky masterpiece. It’s messy, sensual, and utterly alive — the kind of food you eat standing in the sun, eyes half-closed, juice running down your hands, wrists and chin.

I wanted that same unfiltered joy, but on my own terms. So I made my own chamoy — coaxing apricot, prunes, lime, and chili into something glossy and deep red, a sauce that clings and lingers like a memory you can taste.

Instead of serving it on a stick, I sliced the mango into golden fans and laid them out on a plate, each one glistening under the slow pour of chamoy. It’s easier to eat, but no less indulgent — a little street, a little sultry.

It may not be the way you’d find it on a Mexican corner, but it’s the way I like it: bold, bright, a balance of sweet and spice that feels almost sinful. A dish that invites you to slow down, lick the sauce from your lips, and taste every last drop of summer.

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