“We think Chicago is the mango capital of the world.”
It’s a bold argument from Jaidev “Jai” Sharma, owner of MangoZZ, but surprisingly, it has its merits.
Sharma operates a warehouse in Romeoville, where, for a few brief summer weeks, premium mangoes from all over the Indian subcontinent mingle together. The door is locked and unlabelled. I thought I was in the wrong place until the scent of about 1,000 mangoes stacked high on pallets reached my nose.
As we walked around, Sharma opened boxes, examined individual fruit and explained the various varieties. It wasn’t my first time visiting. Every time, I’ve witnessed Sharma shuffling mangoes between boxes. Darkening or overly soft fruit comes out, ripening fruit goes in.
Sharma constantly speaks of his mangoes as if they’re people, each variety like a finicky cousin or aunt visiting from the homeland. A Kesar is compared to a daughter, consistently sweet. An Alphonso is compared to a son, only good when they’re really good.
“Mango is not a product,” he said. “It’s a living thing.”
His job is to nurture life and optimize ripening so customers can get the best of a mango’s natural sweetness.
“There is intelligence in a thing like a mango … There is life and intelligence.”
They try to screen and select the best mangoes, but it’s a process prone to errors. A promising early inspection of a green mango may be misleading about its ripened state. To get the best mangoes at the proper ripeness, technology, agriculture and capital have to coordinate at a very complex level. The mangoes he offers are more prone to spoilage than the ones commercially available in supermarkets.
“Unless you know the fruit, you won’t be able to do the selection properly,” Sharma said. “We mess up too, but we mess up less.”
Freddie Williams inspects Alphonso mangoes to package and send to customers at the ZZ Group Inc. warehouse in Romeoville on May 28, 2024. (Eileen T. Meslar/Chicago Tribune)
If the mangoes are like family members, Sharma is the organizer of a family reunion. He knows all their moods and eccentricities, and loves them no matter what. Kesars developed dark patches from crystalized sugar, but were still wonderfully sweet. Alphonsos are a “surprise in a box” that may look nice outside, but some are actually rotten. The Rasalus are sensitive and can be affected by heavy rain as they grow, showing spots on the skin when ripe.
On May 24, Sharma showed me eight of the rarest mango varieties in stock: Alphonso, Kesar, Mancurad, Payri, Banganpalli, Sindhuri, Himayat and Rasalu. Alphonso from the Ratnagiri/Devgad region in India and the Gujarat Kesar are well-known, but the others are more niche. Some had freshly arrived and others were dwindling in supply. Many would be passed over in a supermarket as they were pressed, spotted or discolored. But besides one somewhat off-tasting Payri, they all tasted much better than their more attractive cousins at supermarkets. Each mango had its own characteristics: Notably, the Mancurad filled the whole mouth with sensation and aroma, the Sindhuri could have its juice sucked out of the top and the Banganpalli had an unusually airy, almost fluffy texture.
MangoZZ may have the broadest range of varieties of premium South Asian mangoes available at particular times of the season that I have seen in the U.S. That is what makes a trip to this warehouse so special. That’s what makes it a mecca.
All the details Sharma offers, in his monotone mix of passion and precision, are enough to make the head spin. But his beginnings were humble and for me, very relatable.
“I just wanted to eat good mangoes,” Sharma said. A mechanical engineer by trade, he has continually attempted to solve the various problems that can go wrong in the mango’s 8,000-mile journey from the Indian subcontinent. With 15 years of experience, his level of knowledge runs deep.
But the early years of the business were difficult. Sharma is one of the longest players in the game, but it wasn’t ever easy. In previous years, Sharma told me he needed time to recover from the intense stress of the mango season.
“I had losses for eight years, continuously,” Sharma said.
MangoZZ (also known as ZZ Group Inc. and ZZ Mango) was founded in 2008. The company distinguishes itself by offering mangoes without national bias, selling products from India and Pakistan between April and August. Deliveries come as often as three times a week, though some weeks may be skipped due to rain. The season begins with Kerala and the Konkan belt in southern India, bouncing back and forth northward to the end of the season in Pakistani Punjab in August.
Before moving to Chicago in 2022, I spent years in New York reporting on Pakistani mangoes sold in underground Whatsapp groups for Eater, America’s Test Kitchen and BuzzFeed News. Those mangoes compete with Indian varieties as some of the most famous and highly sought-after varieties in the world.
Readers, friends and family started turning to me for guidance on finding quality mangoes. I warned them that it was expensive, risky and kind of weird. Each year, I find some new peculiar method of how mangoes are sold, from a guy in an unmarked van who distributes from parking lots to a WhatsApp seller who makes customers drive to a giant airport cargo bay.
In my view, there may be some credence to Sharma’s claim that Chicago is a mango capital. At least, MangoZZ’s warehouse is a national center for South Asian mangos. It’s the only place I know of in the U.S. that imports Chaunsas from Multan in Pakistan and Alphonsos from Ratnagiri in India.
Freddie Williams packs Alphonso mangoes for customers at the ZZ Group Inc. warehouse in Romeoville on May 28, 2024. (Eileen T. Meslar/Chicago Tribune)
Chicago was also the destination for the first shipment of Pakistani mangoes to the United States, as the Tribune reported in 2011. A mango gala was held with the former Pakistani ambassador Husain Haqqani presiding. Sharma said he was not invited.
The true best way to eat any fruit is when it’s fresh, near its growing area. Shipping mangos to Chicago is hardly the most efficient or easy method. But Sharma and others like him do it because mango fans are so loyal to the region’s produce.
In some ways, it’s about nostalgia for immigrants. But in India and Pakistan, people mostly eat mangoes that are local to them. Most won’t experience a full range of the best varieties like Sharma offers.
“I could get one money-making mango and say I’m done,” Sharma said. Instead, he wants to offer a wide range of the best mangos in the world. “People push me and they want their mango … We try to get the best possible fruit. They know it is difficult, but they rely on us to get it for them. Otherwise, they won’t get it.”
Other South Asian mango suppliers in the U.S. might have two or three varieties available at their peak and only work with farms in either India or Pakistan. Even at a U.S. supermarket, you’re getting two or three varieties: Honey, Kent or Tommy Atkins. Perhaps the Middle East, Canada or the U.K. have more variety, with their looser import regulations. But, as other importers have told me, their premium mangoes are reserved for the U.S., given the demand.
These mangoes are not easy to get. They are, in the view of their importers, luxury products. The customers agree: Several people I’ve spoken to justify the expense by comparing it to what others might spend on a bottle of fine wine.
Before I was a food writer, I read many articles claiming that the Ratnagiri Alphonso was the indisputable best mango in the world. In Romeoville, I had my first experience with the fruit. It was excellent, but I was almost disappointed that Chaunsa mangoes from Pakistan were still my favorite.
This didn’t surprise Sharma. He says every person has a mango for them. Each member of his family has their own preference. His is the Langra, which comes later this month.
So far this year, the cheapest MangoZZ box available locally started at $45 for 3 kilograms of Kesar, the “queen of mangoes” from the Indian state of Gujarat. Other varieties were $55.
So, how can you get MangoZZ mangoes?
Unlike the WhatsApp mango groups I’ve previously reported on, MangoZZ is very easily accessible at mangozz.com. For 15 years, Sharma has sold to wholesale markets and consumers by online mail order. He estimates about 40% of his sales are to consumers.
When we first connected, Sharma told me he planned to open his warehouse to the public. In 2024, it’s still mostly closed off. I’m part of a very small group of people who buy directly from the warehouse. But as a mango journalist, it was perhaps the most precious culinary experience I’ve ever had.
Until the mango warehouse fully opens for consumers, checking World Fresh Market on Devon or Patel Brothers in Naperville may be the best way to get MangoZZ products.
Online ordering and shipping is also available for an upcharge and increased risk of spoilage. The tastier the mango, the more likely it is to arrive rotten. The MangoZZ website warns clearly of this, noting that the company can’t guarantee a product of nature. But the internet is filled with harsh, negative reviews of MangoZZ.
Jaidev Sharma, president of ZZ Group Inc., stands with boxes of Indian mangoes in a temperature-controlled room at a warehouse in Romeoville on May 28, 2024. (Eileen T. Meslar/Chicago Tribune)
Sharma speaks openly and frequently of customer complaints, saying it accounts for only 1% to 2% of orders. Spoilage and internal damage are inevitable with such complex agricultural products. He said they offer replacements where possible and refunds at the end of the season if not.
“I think the challenge here is that the produce market has spoiled the customers,” Sharma said. “The marketing has spoiled the customers in telling them that everything will be great. Everything will look great. And they don’t talk too much about taste. They just talk about looks.”
Sharma said the real mango enthusiasts, loyalists who buy a “season pass,” are typically pleased by the ability to try the best mangoes the world has to offer.
Still, he hopes to make a more reliable product by investing in more technology. But ultimately, the mangoes are simply volatile.
“(The mango) treats everybody the same,” Sharma said. When CEOs or other wealthy clients offer him extra money to guarantee a shipment with no issues, Sharma responds, “You can pay me $1 million, I still cannot guarantee your fruit. If it has to spoil, it will spoil.”
1205 W. Remington Blvd., Romeoville, mangozz.com
