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Wednesday, July 30, 2008 The King of Fruit It's the world's smelliest fruit. In Southeast Asia, it's actually banned from hotels and public transportation. And it produces strong reactions. To its detractors, it smells like rotting onions, dead cats, or skunk. To its faithful lovers (and there are many) it smells sweet, at least when it's fresh. Victorian naturalist Alfred Russell Wallace once wrote, "To eat durian is a new sensation worth a voyage to the East to experience." And I agree. But then again, I grew up eating this stuff. Durian is grown in Southeast Asia, and due to its short shelf life and potent smell, it's rarely exported to the West in whole form. Exported durian usually consists of the edible part of the fruit removed from its husk, boxed, and frozen--the texture is rather off-putting. But every trip I've taken to Singapore since I moved as a kid has involved at least a couple of expeditions to roadside stalls where most of my family (my brother and one uncle despise the fruit) would take in piles of durian and open them with help from the seller, who was always known by some family member as "his" durian seller. It's my favorite fruit--you might call me an addict--because when else can you eat something with the texture of custard and consider it healthy? (I've also decided that while the taste will probably never grow on someone who hates it at first bite, it becomes progressively more addictive to those who do enjoy it. It's not called the King of Fruit for nothing.) So imagine my surprise when I saw fresh durian in the Asian grocery store. Incredible! After making my purchase (a rather steep $37--but then again it's cheaper than a ticket to Singapore) I called my parents to tell them the news (and ask for advice on how to open the thorny husk, a feat I'd always left to the durian seller or some other, more experienced family member). After some tricky maneuvering involving a knife, towels, and a bottle opener (as a lever) outside so that my apartment wouldn't smell, I was treated to the best example of durian I've experienced outside of Asia. It was good enough that I'm craving more. The verdict from Americans? Bryan found it surprisingly palatable given the smell and his misadventure with durian ice cream in Singapore (durian-flavored items tend to taste rather terrible, in my opinion--you have to eat the fresh fruit, preferably slightly chilled), but my roommate thought it tasted like old onions. Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods is happy eating roasted bats, raw frog hearts, and lizard blood cocktails--but the one food that defeated him utterly? You guessed it. Yum! Labels: Asian culture, food, Singapore ^ Top | 12:38 AM | | | 
Monday, June 18, 2007 Kid-Friendly Food It always mystified me that Americans consider certain foods particularly suited to childhood palates--"kid-friendly" is not a concept applied to food in Asian culture. A recent article in the Chicago Reader about school lunches highlights the case in point: The menu the OSP [Organic School Project] has introduced at Alcott [a public elementary school] has been an adjustment for staff and students alike. One morning’s breakfast included broccoli-and-cheese quiche. “We never did anything like that before,” says cafeteria manager Carmen Crespo. “The students didn’t like it—they went straight for the cereal. They’re picky. They like pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, ravioli, macaroni and cheese.”Americans seem to think that food for children has to be simple in both flavor and preparation, dressed up in cheese or spaghetti sauce, or colorful (we're talking neon green or blue or purple here, not merely decorated in a pleasing, artful arrangement). If these conditions are not met, the youngsters will be less interested and won't eat. A Google search for "kid friendly food" as a phrase yielded over 25,000 results. In contrast, when I was growing up, if my parents were eating sushi, so was I. The same applies for dishes like curry, beef tripe, and shark's fin soup (easily $40 a bowl). The only time I can remember having foie gras, I think I was in elementary school--and I thought it was amazing. Recently I told my brother about this confusion, and he had a simple response: "It's because for Asians, food is communal." He's right. In a typical Chinese meal, multiple dishes are placed in the center of the table for everyone to share--if the adults are eating something "strange" or expensive, the kids are expected to eat it as well. They don't get special food for dinner, and few parents would be willing to accommodate requests that the entire party would not be eating as well (sure, we had pizza for dinner at my house sometimes, but the point still remains that everyone ate it, and it wasn't thought of as catering to the younger set). Thus a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma has for me been solved. Labels: America, Asian culture, Chicago, food ^ Top | 12:48 AM | | |
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