Bến Tre Durian Candy
I think I picked this up at T&T. I've never tried durian fruit, but I'm familiar with the legend: smells/tastes like heaven/death, and if someone threw one at your head, it would probably kill you. I thought durian candy might be a good way to ease into the whole experience, so I bought a box. Everything on the box is in Vietnamese, with the exception of "Pandan Durian Coconut Candy", so it didn't offer a lot of clues, (what in the world is a pandan? I really, really hope that's not a typo . . . ) aside from the pictures of Durian on the outside. This, of course, is tremendously appealing.
Opening up the bag inside, I first smelled the coconut, then a sort of buttery smell and then a slight but deep industrial smell. You know, the kind of smell that escapes when you remove the plastic from anything. It's the unofficial smell of colossal dollar stores. I assumed the air de factory was merely a byproduct of the manufacturing process.
Oh, how wrong I was . . . .
I was disappointed to find a chewy candy inside the wrapper. A hard chewy candy. I could tell I would have to chew on it for awhile (with the high probability of having durian candy bits stuck in my teeth for the rest of the day). The second disappointment was how utterly greasy the candy is, which only seems to amplify the greasy smell already cavorting about my nostrils.
I chewed into the candy and tasted the coconut right away, followed by a slightly buttery aftertaste. And then, like panzers across my tongue, came what I presume is the taste of durian, which is like drinking a quart of motor oil. The candy came out (okay, be fair, was spit out). The flavours dissipated in reverse order, so I was thankfully left with traces of coconut in my mouth, but the memory of the durian prevented me from further experimentation to see if the flavour improved with time. Usually I'll try something that's offputting a few times to see if I'll warm up to it. NOT NOW, NOT EVER.
As an experiment/sadistic exercise, I brought the candies in to work. They were flatly rejected by everyone in my department except for one guy who said he didn't mind them. In fact, he said he'd rate the taste a 6 or 7 out of 10. Huh. Perhaps durian tolerance is some sort of genetic trait, like being able to roll your tongue, or eat 15 pizzas without gaining a pound.
Actual sign found at a Singapore rapid transit station.
Personally, I'd rather stand next to a guy with a propane tank than a guy with a basket full of durians.