Durian: love it, hate it
June 30, 2002 | 12:00am
Durian, a very controversial fruit described as heaven (to aficionados) but hell to many because of its strong taste and obnoxious smell. In 1869, Alfred Russell Wallace had written about durian as "A rich butter-like custard highly flavored with almonds... neither acid, nor sweet nor juicy, yet one feels the want of none of these qualities, for it is perfect as it is" (Fruits of the Philippines by Doreen Fernandez). Note the word perfect.
But a British adventurer to Siam in the 1800 described the experience of eating durian akin to having herring and blue cheese over an open sewer (Cooking with Thai Fruits by Jennifer Sharples). Loosely translated, para kang kumakain ng malansang isda at mabantot na keso sa tabi ng imburnal. Now if that will not turn off any first timer, I do not know what will. Some suggest trying it in open air and in small portions. Just like eating our balut or our Pampango delicacy camaro (crickets), wherein I prod my foreign friends to eat it in the dark or simply close their eyes.
No matter. It is either you love or hate durian. It can never be in between. I just looooove it – I love its creamy texture and toffee-like milky taste. My first bite of durian was also my baptism of fire with the fruit. I was in a market in Kuala Lumpur with a Malaysian friend. He asked "Do you eat durian?" I replied in the negative, but I’ll give it a try, I said. That encouraged him to smuggle a one-kilo durian into my 5-star hotel room. We breezed through the lobby, making sure no one rode with us in the lift, and made our way to the room undetected. Once we got into the room, he opened the windows and pried open this green stubby fruit with very hard-pointed spikes. I dipped my fingers into the orangey mushy flesh. My initial reaction was yuck! But I saw how he savored each bite. My first bite was like eating rotten baby food. I almost spit it out. But after the second and the third bite, I knew I was hooked. It is an acquired taste that simply grows on you. I was just beginning to enjoy my sweet discovery when a knock on the door interrupted our binge.
Horror of horrors, it was the hotel duty manager! With much authority and without hesitation, he scornfully demanded "Give me that durian. I shall dispose of it." My friend readily wrapped and handed it to him (what was left of it, anyway), murmuring an apology. The following morning, I bumped into the manager at the lobby. I asked him how in hell he knew with certainty about the durian in my room. "Oh it was easy," he said. "All the occupants on your floor called to complain, except you." Ah, next time I know better, I thought, making a mental note. I should be the first one to complain!
Durian is abundant in Thailand, Malaysia, and fortunately here in the Philippines (Mindanao area). Thai and Malaysian durians are yellow to orange in color while the native one is whitish gray. The best durian I have tried so far was from Malaysia. It had small seeds, almost orange in color, it was very sweet but also very pungent. Generally, the stronger the smell the stronger the flavor is. Of all that I have tried, the Thai Chanee variety is the least pungent and the mildest in taste.
International airlines ban durian. (Our domestic airlines allow passengers to check it in.) But devotees will always risk life and limb to bring it home. A Thai friend always manages to bring durian on board or in cargo undetected. She takes the flesh from its shell, wraps it several times in flimsy plastic, puts in an air-tight food container, then wraps the container in layers and layers of the plastic again. The late Doreen Fernandez once suggested a simpler and effective solution: wrap the fruit in wadded wet newsprint. You see what one has to go through for a bite of this "forbidden fruit?"
If one would label durian with warnings, there will be many. The Chinese consider the fruit as "heaty." They must drink water with salt from an empty durian shell to cool them after eating it. The Davaoeños, according to Doreen, eat mangosteen immediately after eating durian to ease the discomfort brought about by the excessive richness of the fruit. And to get rid of the smell on one’s hands, pour water into the empty shell and wash your fingers in it. Inexplicably, the odor dissipates.
One must never mix durian with alcohol, maybe because both give heat to the body. Some say durian must not be eaten after surgery. It is also reputed to be very high in cholesterol and is bad for the heart. But many agree it is an aphrodisiac, though one must not kiss (especially a non-durian lover) after eating it for obvious reasons, unless the durian becomes the object of the pingpong kiss (to the uninitiated, e-mail the author for elucidation.) And from experience, Coke and durian make a very bad combination. It makes one burp, eliciting a foul smell worse than that scent of the fruit itself and enough to scare away even the most ardent admirer.
In heaven there’s no durian, that’s why we eat it here!
Twice in the previous two weekends, Maryane and I traveled some 90 km. to the Durian Park Greenhills for love of durian. We read in the newspaper one Friday morning that SunGee (a Consunji company) has an Eat-All-You-Can Durian Promotion for only P100 per person, every Saturday and Sunday, 5 to 8 p.m.; and a happy hour promo on weekdays, 5 to 8 p.m., at P50/kg. at their Greenhills (Ortigas corner Madison Sts.), Alabang (Festival Mall), and Makati (Pasong Tamo Extension) outlets (for details call 810-57-80).
The first time we went, we arrived in Greenhills before 5 p.m. hoping we would be the first ones to get there, but to our chagrin, many durian die-hards beat us to it. In fact, all seats and tables were taken, but that didn’t deter us from enjoying our durian buffet standing up. On the way there, I was already imagining, with matching saliva drooling now, I could feast and stuff myself like there was no tomorrow. But to my disappointment, no matter how much I love durian, I could only eat so much of it. The first one was easy, but on my second one (averaging 1.5 kg each), I started to feel a little queasy, drowsy and uncomfortable. Perhaps the king of fruits is meant to be savored and not gorged. Too much of a good thing could be hazardous to one’s health. As they say, even paradise has its limits. Burp! Excuse me.
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