The Mango Tree

Today, I started reading Annabelle Tometich‘s The Mango Tree: A Memoir of Fruit, Florida, and Felony. The Mango Tree is not just a memoir but a profoundly emotional family saga. It takes us through the complexities of Annabelle’s life, from her childhood in a house filled with balikbayan boxes, vegetation, and luscious mangoes to her journey from aspiring medical student to restaurant critic.

It is a tribute to her fellow Filipino Americans, her younger self, and the mango tree symbolizing her family. Above all, it is a heartfelt homage to Annabelle’s mother, Josefina, who carved out a life and a home without whom Annabelle would not be who she is.

When journalist Annabelle Tometich picked up the phone one June morning, she wasn’t expecting a collect call from an inmate at the Lee County Jail. And when she accepts, she certainly isn’t prepared to hear her mother’s voice on the other end of the line. However, explaining the situation to her younger siblings afterward was easy; all she had to say was, “Mom shot at some guy. He was messing with her mangoes.” They immediately understood. Answering the questions of the breaking news reporter—at the same newspaper where Annabelle worked as a restaurant critic––proved more difficult. Annabelle decided to go with a variation of the truth: it was complicated.

Thus commences The Mango Tree, a memoir that deftly weaves a tapestry of a mixed-race Filipina’s life in suburban Florida. Annabelle’s journey is not linear but a series of interconnected stories that delve into her upbringing, her father’s tragic demise, her mother’s longing for her homeland, and her quest for identity.