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The Devilish Durian
My run-in with the infamous 'Bizarre Food'
By Erik Helin
The durian is, in so many words, a cult food. Like Peeps, SPAM or lutefisk, the durian attracts some and repels others like a yellow, custardy magnet.
On its outside, the durian is a rather nightmarish football-sized fruit. It has a hard, yellow-green spiky shell that could easily pass for a medieval weapon. On its inside, the durian separates the adventurous from the easily-sickened. The edible part of the fruit is naturally sectioned into compartments filled with the yellow, almost fetus-shaped substance.
But why is it so horrifying? It’s the smell. Somewhere in between rotten cantaloupe and dirty diapers, the durian is “not tolerated in most Asian hotels, on airplanes or on the subway,” says Michael Sullivan of NPR. The fruit’s stench is sure to saturate the room, intoxicating some and nauseating others.
I wasn’t sure where I stood on the durian after watching its repeated appearance on the Travel Chanel’s Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern and No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain. Normally when viewing these programs, I usually go, “Yeah, I’d try that.” But the durian seemed a much more formidable foe, toppling a physically defeated Zimmern.
I never believed I would even get the opportunity to taste the dastardly durian, assuming that there would be some sort of sanctions against its origin countries (Southeast Asia, especially Thailand) denying the fruit’s entry. But, sure enough, one day while at our local Dinkytown eatery, Pagoda, I saw it on the menu: The Durian Smoothie.
When blended, the smoothie takes a subdued yellow color. And, luckily, it was covered with a plastic lid, so the smell was masked slightly; but it was still there.
Its taste is slightly milder than expected. While still rather rancid, there is an odd sweetness to it. The durian is dense, with multiple complex flavors that reveal themselves as the cold drink rolls over the tongue.
Some people like Zimmern, however, can’t get passed the scent as it settles in the nose, which is why Thai researcher Songpol Somsri is attempting to breed the stink out of the fruit. His hope is that the less smelly durian hybrid (Chantaburi No. 1) will sell much better abroad. Other purists contest that a durian without its stink just isn’t a durian at all. I’ll be the first one to say that I didn’t love it, but I could definitely see myself getting accustomed to the durian on repeated tastings— smell and all.