Face-sweating hunt for Durians in Taipei

The worldwide epidemic has forced us to temporarily seek refuge in Taipei where schools are open and life has been relatively normal for the last few months. We are mandated to wear masks by the government but I see that as a very good rule. It forces a person to keep all your nasal and oral bacteria contained to yourself (you pay more attention to your oral hygiene as you can smell your own bad breath) and limits also the dust from the street getting into your lungs. So far, the only reason why I don’t enjoy wearing them is face-sweating. My face skin has never perspired so much on a short walk to the supermarket. It feels just like I’ve had some sort of a steam facial every time I step out of the house.

But does a mask help with filtering out the wafts of ripe durian as you walk through the market?

In the various local fresh food markets, I’ve seen durian for sale at every corner. What kind of durian? I hear you ask. Well… it’s all called “Jin Jen Tou” otherwise known as the Golden pillow or Mon Thong from Thailand. Nothing special. Inferior to most Malaysian durians.  No smell at all. That’s what most Taiwanese know as durian. There clearly is a fascination with it as market vendors stock it amply.

On my twice a week market walk, I noticed that one stall had a few different looking durians. These durians didn’t have the yellow tinge and “bulging muscle” husk morphology. These durians were more lush green, a lot smaller and were less symmetrical. HMMM. Pause. Let’s take a closer look.

I leaned over the makeshift table under the sunbrella.

“What durian are these?” I said, indicating towards the smaller green ones.

“These are Mao Shan Wang” came the stall keeper’s reply.

“Really… where are they from?”

“They are from Thailand” 

“But Thailand does not have Mao shan wang” I continued

“This one is from Thailand” he said confidently,” If you like you can look at the box”.

“Why is there no smell?”

“What do you mean no smell? Is your nose stuck or something? It’s very strong!!”

Sure enough, the box indicated that it was Mao Shan Wang, exported from Thailand. This was really quite an exciting find. I’ve heard before of a lookalike mao shan wang from Thailand and never seen it until now. I pulled down my mask and asked to have a sniff.

Observations:

No distinct smell even though it was ripe and starting to split open (without mask). It had a the triangular thorns but they looked quite wispy towards the tips. The base didn’t look exactly like a mao shan wang at all, but when it came to the relative color of the flesh, it was the closest thing to a mao shan wang.

A little negotiation took place. I reasoned with the stall owner that his durian was looking rather ripe. Would he sell it a little cheaper? How about if I bought two could he give me a special price? We finally agreed on TWD 850 (RM 125) for the two durians, which I think would’ve cost me a fraction of that in KL or Singapore. It would be that price for the real Mao Shan Wang durians in Singapore and KL.

I told the stall owner and his wife I didn’t have my wallet on me but I’d be back to collect them. They cheerfully agreed and started opening the durian and packing it into small individual plastic bags which they then dropped into a box. While they think this is a very hygienic method of packaging, the process by which they get the durian into the bags is far from an aseptic method.

Consuming durian is best done with friends. I called up M & A who had let on in a previous conversation how crazy they are about durian but had never had a Malaysian one before. We planned a durian tasting session that night.

 

Go…Go…Go.. Durian Omakase!

I love this wonderful marketing strategy by 99 Old Trees in Singapore. Durian omakase (colloquially termed Sukawa by 99 Old trees.. a very Singlish phrase) is such a fabulous idea… it means you show up and the vendor picks a variety of the best fruit for you to sample (in unlimited supply). A few innovative companies in Hong Kong (that are from KL) have started doing this at sit down events, but no one has thought to coin it an “omakase” as it’s much more of a durian tasting of different varietals than necessarily the BEST of each one.

Check out this article about what 99 Old Trees is doing and do watch that video with Genevieve Loh, she’s superbly funny 😆.

I really miss being in Malaysia for durian season… is anyone coming to HK from KL/SG and can bring some omakase up for me? I miss having other varietals. In HK they only bother bringing in Musang king and maybe black thorn. Sometimes the Musang king is only so-so. I miss a good Tekka!

Ps. For the foodie uninitiated (from Wikipedia): Omakase is the Japanese tradition of letting a chef choose your order. The word means “I will leave it to you.” It’s a fine tradition that gives the chef creative freedom and the customer a memorable dining experience. Any good chef is a creative individual. … Omakase lets the chef flex their culinary talents.

A FB friend just went to 99 Old Trees and reported a stellar experience. Find them off Little India at 46 Owen Rd, #01-277 Singapore, Near Pek Kio Food Centre. But you’d better call them first… after this promo, I wonder if there’ll be any Durians left! Durians usually arrive from malaysia in the afternoon so get your tummy ready after 6pm…

Tel: +65 98222495 book by noon I would imagine!

A rival to durian, for fame, flavour and equal fervor… can you guess what it is?

Everyone who has had durian will know too well that unmistakable scent (often detectable from a distance), the very characteristic appearance of green spikes resembling a furled up hedgehog and the fire that is lit in a durian lovers’ eyes once a good fruit is presented.

Let’s now substitute the fruit “durian” with the bright green edible bean “petai“.

Petai is in its own right, a very unique bean. The pods are large and long, with a slight twist and curl. The beans themselves look quite ordinary. Mildly rubbery, a bit smaller than the average female thumb.

But the smell when it is cooked is intensely pungent and it’s very difficult to describe its taste. Bitter or bitter acidic yet a bit tasteless on its own, it is best combined with other strongly flavoured sauces like sambal (a paste made of fermented shrimp, chilli, garlic, ginger and lime concoction). The sambal petai dish is mind-blowing when cooked well and accompanied with fried fish or deep fried chicken and steaming hot off-the-stove jasmine rice.

Is your mouth watering yet?

Petai, unlike durian, will change your body odour for about one or two days post consumption. Though you may not notice it… your friends might. If you eat enough of it, it’ll also turn your pee a very fluorescent shade of green (similar to my Thai whiskey experience, but we’ll cover that another time).

The effects of petai and the pungent smell notwithstanding, petai is served in many restaurants albeit in small quantities relative to durian. This stink bean has fans and it’s non-fans, people either love eating it and sort of crave it, or refuse to try it at all.

Perhaps it was with this in mind that FAMA decided to replace durian with petai at the promotional food fair Malaysia Fest in Singapore. It can be brought in large quantities, bring in the petai lovers and satisfy some cravings. The pods also look impressive in big bunches so at least it looks good as a takeaway from the event.

Why no Durians Singapore? The smell can be contained with good packaging so I doubt this is the real reason. I suspect it’s probably more to do with husk and waste disposal.

A fruit that smells like itself

“I like fruit that smells like itself and not like something else” declared SC while cutting into some deliciously decadent milk tea roll from Yoku Moku.

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked my friend who was butchering the roll because the steel knife was a little too small.

“I just prefer fruit that smell and taste the same as how they visually appear… and are less pungent, you know” SC said grimly, examining his handiwork before offering up a grin as he served me a piece.

“Ok, so you don’t like durian. What other fruits fall into that category?” I was finding this very interesting indeed… the smell of fruits is indeed usually a subtle affair, made more so that these days, fruits are often sold packed in plastic, picked before they are ripe, or are genetically selected for other traits, scent not being one of them.

“Well… like mango for example. It doesn’t smell good to me.”

Really?! Delicious creamy mango, a fruit that has been marketed to represent the tropics and used almost as ubiquitously in equatorial cocktail drinks as the coconut?

“Err… what do you think mango smells like?” Probing… probing…

“Durian to me smells like cheesy feet, mango to me smells like raw sewage” he spat out. This description opened my eyes. Literally. I’ve never heard of mango described as smelling like raw sewage. Durian has been described by many using lots of nasty adjectives but mango to most South East Asians is sweet and fragrant(for example Thai and Philippino cuisine would be far drearier without it). How can our perceptions be so astoundingly different?

SC is a wine connoisseur, he has a sensitive nose and palate, able to distinguish the very flavours and “hint” components that make up the aroma of each wine. I’m assuming he’s very sensitive to sulphur and esters that are natural components in fruit, but perhaps are in greater concentrations in mango (and durian).

What does he like?

Grapes, strawberries, melon, peach, cherries, apples, pears, all citrus fruits. Not hot on banana, mango, jackfruit, durian. Got it.