10 November 2012


The Durian festival has come and gone again. Every year in my apartment complex there is a day devoted to the Durian. By the Residents. On one day each year they glorify this fruit. Then they devour it. 

They do this by the pool. 

In the Function room.

I don't mind it actually. The Durian. It doesn't really taste like it smells. There are a few different varieties as well. Ask the Singaporeans, the Malays and the Chinese. They will tell you all about it. They love it. They really love it. They love it too when I say I love it. It delights them. Although I should confess that I don't really love it. I just don't mind it. I told a white lie. I prefer the less sweet variety. 

It's a bit drier.

I was warned at my first Durian festival that you should never drink too much alcohol when eating the fruit. I was informed that it was dangerous. People had died. I was half pissed at the time this was told so I was worried. I was alarmed in fact. I Googled this disturbing information when I got home. 

They were right. 

People had died. 

There can be an incompatible reaction. Consuming the durian makes me sweat a bit. I don't drink alcohol at the Durian Festivals anymore.

My favorite fruit by far in Singapore is the Mangostein. It is delicious and nutritious. The locals describe the Durian as the King of the fruits. The Mangostein is it's Queen. Or it could be the other way around. I get confused easily. The Mangostein tastes like a grape crossed with an orange.

Or a Mandarin. 

Sort of. 

Yum yum.

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