Durian Durian
Category: Flavors
The warning was well intended but fell on deaf ears - too much durian can cause high blood pressure. And too much durian deprivation causes daringness to ignore such warnings, I thought. And so, with single-minded purpose, we attacked Durian Paradise (formerly known as Durian Park), on our first day in Davao.
The place is a square, unpaved area, like a tiangge, with durian shacks lining the perimeter. Inside are tables and benches and randomly placed trash baskets. Obviously, the set-up is meant for the purpose of doing nothing else but to eat, which is funny when you watch people so intent on their marathon eating session (with table all piled up with durian rind), which goes to show how people take this fruit so seriously.
There are many kinds of durian -- the whitish, large seeded native, the creamy yellow pulped arancillo, the yellow orange puyat, the Thai variety chanee, the cob, and native malaysian among others. All go down beautifully with a cold bottle of Coke (or a can of Coke Light), the combination of which is a curious Davaoeño proclivity. But just in case you will find yourself in the bewildering situation of picking out the durian that will be your scary first time (and I promise you'll be thankful to the person who unrelentlessly prodded you to try it), just remember this: when in Davao, go for the native. It's sooooooo good!
There are only two reactions to durian -- you either love it or hate it. But believe me, you'd rather be a lover than a hater because you'd be missing out on a pleasure like no other, that drives people like myself to be so passionate about the fruit. Aside from being an aphrodisiac, there's really more to the repulsive odor (that reminds you of the sewers or LPG) than meets the nostrils. Even my husband, normally a safe-eater and now brand new durian-loving convert, can attest to this. What formerly tasted and smelled like rotten soy sauce (his words) to him is now an out-of-this-world caramel custard with a delicious burnt aftertaste that gets better and better all the time. And that's from 5 consecutive days of heavy-duty eating sessions over at Durian Paradise. Now I'll have to share my portion so there'll be less for me. But to witness the joy of a brand new durian convert (through your own constant badgering) is just as memorable as the first time you realize how wonderful the fruit really is.
The warning was well intended but fell on deaf ears - too much durian can cause high blood pressure. And too much durian deprivation causes daringness to ignore such warnings, I thought. And so, with single-minded purpose, we attacked Durian Paradise (formerly known as Durian Park), on our first day in Davao.
The place is a square, unpaved area, like a tiangge, with durian shacks lining the perimeter. Inside are tables and benches and randomly placed trash baskets. Obviously, the set-up is meant for the purpose of doing nothing else but to eat, which is funny when you watch people so intent on their marathon eating session (with table all piled up with durian rind), which goes to show how people take this fruit so seriously.
There are many kinds of durian -- the whitish, large seeded native, the creamy yellow pulped arancillo, the yellow orange puyat, the Thai variety chanee, the cob, and native malaysian among others. All go down beautifully with a cold bottle of Coke (or a can of Coke Light), the combination of which is a curious Davaoeño proclivity. But just in case you will find yourself in the bewildering situation of picking out the durian that will be your scary first time (and I promise you'll be thankful to the person who unrelentlessly prodded you to try it), just remember this: when in Davao, go for the native. It's sooooooo good!There are only two reactions to durian -- you either love it or hate it. But believe me, you'd rather be a lover than a hater because you'd be missing out on a pleasure like no other, that drives people like myself to be so passionate about the fruit. Aside from being an aphrodisiac, there's really more to the repulsive odor (that reminds you of the sewers or LPG) than meets the nostrils. Even my husband, normally a safe-eater and now brand new durian-loving convert, can attest to this. What formerly tasted and smelled like rotten soy sauce (his words) to him is now an out-of-this-world caramel custard with a delicious burnt aftertaste that gets better and better all the time. And that's from 5 consecutive days of heavy-duty eating sessions over at Durian Paradise. Now I'll have to share my portion so there'll be less for me. But to witness the joy of a brand new durian convert (through your own constant badgering) is just as memorable as the first time you realize how wonderful the fruit really is.
Poppycock | 11/20/2006 |
<< Home