Durian - My New Love

Money in hand and eyes on the prize.

Some time ago I wrote about "firsts" and how they come less and less frequently as you grow older. Food offers lots of opportunities for firsts because there are so many freaking cuisines prepared around this world. Take out the preparation part, though, and food in its natural state is much more limited in scope. If you then subtract the animal kingdom - things like fried tarantulas, dog, beating snake heart, monkey brains, etc. - you're limited to grains, leaves, fruit or any other edible parts of plants. You can sample many of hundreds of kinds of mango, for instance, but even if they vary wildly in quality and character, they're still mangos. Discovering truly new and interesting food as a vegetarian isn't easy.

Negotiating for a Little Globe of Heaven

About eight months ago, when we were first in Cambodia, we tried, just for the heck of it, the fruit called durian. I'd heard about durian for at least twenty years. I say "just for the heck of it" because the first thing people remark upon when describing the fruit is the smell. It was supposed to be a sulfury, sweet aroma that many people find unpleasant. Many places, notoriously Singapore, don't allow Durian on buses, trains or in many public places simply because of its aroma.

Recently, Tami and I were told by staff and other passengers on a bus to stop eating the durian we'd brought along for the ride. Novice mistake. Once you taste it, though, and especially if you fall for it the way we have, you'll understand how we might have wanted to take it everywhere.

People get obsessed about durian. When we first arrived in Bangkok, there were two Australians going on and on . . . and on, sheesh . . . about durian. They'd just arrived and couldn't wait to find some to eat. I thought the woman was going to break into an erotic dance just talking about it. It was weird. The guy said he'd sometimes eat two a day when he had access to them.

That kind of behavior is not uncommon. Check out this guy's website: Durian Palace There are lots of sites out there like this.

Now, after getting familar with the fruit, I have repented and can understand why. I didn't even know something with such a complex and powerful flavor existed in an uprocessed state in nature. Like many new and challenging experiences, when we first tried it I wasn't sure I liked it. It's like the first time you try blue cheese or a single malt Scotch or the first time you heard Kid A by Radiohead. You weren't sure what to expect but what you got was like nothing you'd ever had.

For reasons we have yet to fully discern, durian seems to stir a certain kind of sinful indulgence. Vendors set up on roadsides and sell almost exclusively at night - often late into it when most all other vendors close. It isn't so cheap, either. We typically pay between 25 and 40 Thai Baht for a kilo - about a US buck a pound - but more than half the weight is waste. At the above stand, I met three women who had driven AN HOUR to get a rare variety of durian. Apparently it was pretty special. It cost 280 Baht a kilo - stratospheric in these parts!

We first sampled it a couple times in shakes. I'd walk along afterward thinking, "That was different. But, do I like it?" I'd wake up the a day or two later wanting to try it one more time just to see. Curiosity got the best of us and we bought our first whole fruit. Our room was filled with the sweet, fecund aroma. We cut into it and, for the next hour, tasted and mused on what other foods compared to it and what other foods it might combine with it to make new recipies. We thought about naming a restaurant after it and using a sillouhette of the fruit as the logo. We'd have durian dishes never seen before on the menu.

The fruit itself? The outside rind is covered in tough, sharp spines. Cutting into them is a craft in itself. The fruit's texture is kind of like an avocado crossed with a soft artichoke heart. It has a butterscotch flavor (especially when it's more ripe), some vanilla, some kind of subtle nut and (here's the part that most people would get sqeamish about, but it's the best reference I have) liverwurst. I know . . . . it sounds crazy but somehow it works. I am officially obsessed. It's hard to imagine not having access to this food once we leave. As I understand it, the US doesn't allow import of durian unless it's been frozen - and subsequently, completely ruined. I don't know, if it weren't for the fact that I want to go home to see my mother, we'd buy a house here and open a restaurant called Durian.