Durian'd!

As you shall sow, so you shall reap.... Fundamentally sound as a concept you would think. But that was before I met with the legend on the Far East, the fabled and much reviled Durian. As someone called it, the 'Mother of Jack fruit', it's actually banned in public places. So you can buy durian, but damned if you're allowed to used the public transport system to get it home.... Why? you ask, all bright eyed innocence. Because dearly beloved, it REEKS. Having had a childhood fraught with the insidious scent of jack fruit in your milk (I believe this is why cling wrap was invented!), your rice, your meat, anything else unfortunate to share the fridge with peeled jack fruit, I have a sturdier disposition to durian than several others I know. While I have been known to be sensitive to scents, I haven't yet keeled over at the waft of durian. Last night, I found myself watching a cookery show focused on all things sugar. While this would normally be considered an aberration, I was intrigued by the French and Chinese/Aussie combination. One making exotic macaroons of the likes of pineapple and avocado, while the other flaunted Onde Onde (traditional Malay sweets that have a molten palm sugar heart surrounded by coloured dough) with durian. Bright colours fit for a dolls tea party. Naturally, sweeties were exchanged and oohed and aahed upon by both chefs, till the Frenchman bravely tried the durian onde onde (despite health warnings from charming Chinese/Oz chef) and while he manfully tried not to gag or spew it out, he did have to turn his back to the camera. Sadly, someone should have warned him that merely removing the offending taste from your both won't rid you of it, and his face was a work of art as he dealt with the aftermath in the most subtly horrified way possible. The verdict - it's like eating a dead onion. Hmmmmmmm. Not sure why anyone would have sampled a dead onion even out of scientific curiosity, but he is French! As is the wont of life, I find myself at a client lunch this afternoon, where a traditionally sumptuous meal is called to a close with durian pudding. My colleague has thoughtfully ordered a mango substitute dessert for the other weakling in my office (who's nostrils are already in distress from the aroma at the next table, and this was a very faint fragrance of durian gracing the environs around us). I tell them about my last nights viewing and there is some debate about dead onions. But, faint hearted I am not, so I reach for the proffered sample of the durian dessert (or disaster as some might call it) and gamely spoon a mouthful in..... nanoseconds is all it takes for the light bulb popping, firework endorsing acceptance of the so that's what he meant by dead onion taste, as it subtly offends my palate. My relationship with onions has been tenuous at best and to have that flavour linger in your mouth after a banquet is indescribable. Swigs of jasmine tea and hefty gulps of soupy, mango, sago custardy concoction bring relief and also explain why I feel faintly sick after the meal. Why a fruit that looks and smells like jack fruit, with slimy, pulpy texture of a squashed banana would want to taste like a dead onion is beyond me. Why people in this part of the world like it so much or why they would possibly want the taste of a sickly onion to be there lasting memory of a resplendent meal is well beyond my minuscule faculties. These Asians are crazy!!!