It’s your old pal, the General. I know, I haven’t been around much, and I’m sure your mom and her new boyfriend may have said some pretty nasty things about me, but you need to know that I love you very much, and only want the best for you…and your Mom’s new boyfriend gave her warts. The down-stairs kind.
Now, what brings me around again? I’m so glad you hypothetically asked. Is it the “Red Vine Suicide Diary” I mentioned in the last season of the podcast? An editorial on the inexplicable appearance of a very decent micro-gastro-pub that appeared in my goat-fart hometown? Is it the answer to what’s in the cooler the asian guy carries around in Crank 2: High voltage? No, my children, it’s better than all of those things smothered in hash oil and rolled between a bag of money and a bag of bloody cast-of-Jersey-Shore-remains.
I’m here to introduce you to a very good friend of mine, Durian.
You may have heard of Durian, as it has a pretty spotty reputation. It’s smell is politely described as “pungent”, and it’s flavor doesn’t seem to want to sit still in one category. In fact, these (usually) little guys are a bitch to hold with bare hands for more than a few moments, as they’re covered in stiff, sharp little spikes that defy you to even come near it, let alone eat it. In fact, In southeast Asia, where they are native, it isn’t unusual to see nets under the trees where they grow, because if you are unfortunate enough to be under the tree when one of these delicacies falls, it could very well fucking kill you.
Before we go any further, let me best try to describe how it tastes to me. You know when you meet someone, and maybe you have a few drinks and end up at their house after hours? Maybe you even have such a good time you both call in sick the next day, and spend that time “playing in the sheets”. You have so much fun, you call in a second-day, exhausting the last of your cigarettes, booze, drugs, and reproductive fluids. Now it’s time to find your clothes and what-have -you, and get ready to return to the outside world of nurishment and hygene…but before you go, as an act of appreciation and fondness, you decide to take one more mouth-stroll downtown, and it’s not exactly dirty, but it’s fucking miles from clean. That flavor, boys and girls, is my closest association to the flavor of this thing.
Now for those of you who are saying “General, you’re not exactly selling this to me. I mean, is that supposed to be a good flavor?” and I say, with a patronizing pat on your head, “Never mind, dear, now go get yourself a nice Granny Smith.” For my fellow humans with a sense of adventure, here’s a couple of perspectives on the flavor, from food conasuers more notable than myself.
Andrew Zimmern- “completely rotten, mushy onions.”
"you see, Cathy, what I do is get someone to eat me whole, and puke me into this pile of dirty satin...me have sex now?"
If you want to see this anthropomorphic scrotum try it, FF to 7:30 in this link.
Anthony Bourdain- “Its taste can only be described as…indescribable, something you will either love or despise. …Your breath will smell as if you’d been French-kissing your dead grandmother.”
Happy Mothers' day.
Headchef, Reducer Network- “It’s like if an avocado and a mango screwed in a bowl of custard and didn’t clean up afterward.”
Russel Wallace- The five cells are silky-white within, and are filled with a mass of firm, cream-coloured pulp, containing about three seeds each. This pulp is the edible part, and its consistence and flavour are indescribable. A rich custard highly flavoured with almonds gives the best general idea of it, but there are occasional wafts of flavour that call to mind cream-cheese, onion-sauce, sherry-wine, and other incongruous dishes. Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid nor sweet nor juicy; yet it wants neither of these qualities, for it is in itself perfect. It produces no nausea or other bad effect, and the more you eat of it the less you feel inclined to stop. In fact, to eat Durians is a new sensation worth a voyage to the East to experience. … as producing a food of the most exquisite flavour it is unsurpassed.”
All this being said, the peoples of Brunei, Indonesia and Malaysia seem to be getting a lot of mileage out of our funky little friend. They use it for everything from candy and custard to coffee and curry.
So, yes, it does look like some sort of foi gras abortion, and it may have an “aquired” taste, and yes, maybe doctors advise pregnant woman not to eat it, and maybe one or to philosophic types from the Phillipines warned that if it ever spread to the west, it would cause rape riots, and a mass explosion of mail-box fucking. It’s still an exotic treat, widely available in its’ native land, right? Yes, but even there, good luck trying to take it with you on the bus, or in any self-respecting establishment, for that matter.
Yep, it smells that bad to most people. If you don’t believe me, keep an eye on your local asian markets’ produce department the next time you swing through. They won’t always have it, but if they do, and you in no way resemble or relate to, say, this dumb cunt:
…then take yourself on a little trip around the world. They’re relatively cheap, and regardless of how you feel about it afterward, you’ll never forget the experience. In fact, I would venture to say that this seperates the “foodies” from the people who love to fucking EAT.
So, if you’re still trying to decide, just remember the old saying about all things strange and unfamiliar: put it deep inside you. ‘Night, ‘night. Daddy loves you.
Even this pussy likes it.