The King and I.

I liked durian when I was young. Durian dinner was a family affair, with all of us sitting round on the living room floor; dad would deftly open one fruit after another, faster than we could pop them into our mouths.. That, or we'd mix the flesh with a hot bowl of rice. We'd also be keeping an eye out for a good piece of shell to end dinner with the drinking of water straight from the pipe onto the shell, to "cool off the heatiness" of the durian.

Then one day, I think I was 17(?), I just decided that I don't like durian. I'd sit out from the makan fest, and just watch while they eat. I wasn't turn off by the smell -- I still don't get how gwailos would describe the fragrance of the King of Food as vomit-inducing stench -- I just abstained. The family couldn't understand it and neither did I, but I didn't begrudge it. And the idea of durian and rice? Major turn-off!

Then I got married to a durian lover.

I'd know when the fruit is in season. His cravings would start and my house will carry the lingering smell. That saying, if you can't beat them, join them? Haha.. Well I did. These days, I can't describe my rship with the fruit -- one day I'd eat it, and the next day I won't. Back and forth, back and forth. I guess it's "complicated" eh? Haha! Anyways, for the record, today I had three biji of thick sweet flesh ones. And dare I say, yums? :)