This is an origin story. It’s a story of love lost and inspiration found. It’s the story of Grateful Foods Dried Mango. And it all started on a bridge in Mexico.
Well, let me back up a bit…
2019 was the worst year of my life. It was the year my baby boy, Gus (“Pineapple”), died after only 24 hours of life.
Ongoing contracts with my wind energy service company, Notus Access group, kept me from holing up at home and grieving with my wife and daughter. I nursed my heartache on the road, listening to Neil Young’s “Cortez the Killer” on repeat.
Needing more help at work, I followed the lead of a colleague to Jalcomulco, Mexico, the hometown of an experienced wind tech, Roberto Zavaleta, who could maybe help me carry the load. As a business owner, it’s important to me to not just hire a worker. We put our lives in each other’s hands when we are hanging 400 feet in the air from commercial wind turbines, so it’s only fitting to really know my team—to know where they come from and what they are about.
Roberto and I were kindred spirits: adventure- and family-minded. I felt instantly comfortable in his jungle home with a DIY (but crazy professional) climbing wall and equally impressive pottery studio. Roberto and his wife, Michelle, immersed me in their world, introducing me to all their neighbours, family, and friends. They call Roberto Padrino (Godfather)—no kids of his own, but so warm he has no fewer than ten godchildren.
Jalcomulco is a river-rafting and climbing mecca. It’s situated near the Gulf of Mexico in the state of Veracruz, a comfortably short distance to Pico Orbizaba, the tallest peak in Mexico. The Rio Antigua flows through this idyllic town—the same river that the Spanish explorer Hernán Cortés and his posse used to penetrate Mexico in the 16th century, sowing Manila mango seedlings along the way. Over the centuries, these Philippine-seedling mango trees have thrived in Mexico’s tropical climate, crossing with local varieties to create a unique, fibre-less, limey-sweet fruit.
On the eve of my departure from this most healing trip, I sat with Roberto on the drawstring bridge over the Rio Antigua connecting Jalcomulco town square to the jungle. Our bellies full of coctel de camarones (shrimp cocktail), we waxed poetic about life and loss amid the scent of mango groves. The conversation drifted into how these incredible mangos, endemic to the region, were being cut down in favour of lime trees. (There is a large Chinese market for limes. In addition, lime trees are lower to the ground, making the fruit infinitely easier to harvest.) The mangos were being slowly decimated.
As we sat, the most beautiful double rainbow appeared over the bridge, from the jungle mist. We gazed at its wonder, speechless.
Steeped in the sounds of “Cortez the Killer,” sitting with my brother from another mother, surrounded by a town not unlike my beloved home of Cortes Island,
I was flooded with emotion. I felt my son on the bridge in that moment.
I felt that deepening my connection to this community and creating a market for these mangos would be a beautiful tribute to him. Creating something from both everything and nothing at all. A labour of love.
That was the start of Grateful Foods Dried Mango. Now, our family travels to Jalcomulco regularly at mango harvest time. I take pride in hand-picking the mangos, shaking hands with the farmers, and, with Roberto’s help, personally delivering them to a solar-powered, family-owned local fruit dehydrator.
On one of our subsequent mango trips, our miracle “rainbow baby” was born, five years and one week to the day after her late brother’s due date. Roberto, can you take on one more godchild?
And so, this is an origin story. This is a travel story. This is a story of passion for community near and far. This is the story of Grateful Foods.
