March 31, 2011
Dear clusterflock
I keep discovering Asian packages of fruits, like spiced mango or salted lychee, which I immediately purchase and try to consume. And yet, not a single one of these delightfully marketed products is remotely edible . . . if you like fruit, or sugar, or pickles.
Am I alone in this willful impulsivity with exotic foods or do you find yourself chewing on bitter, pickled rot at regular intervals too? Where do you shock yourself into an awareness of some blind, reckless faith?
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I’ve always assumed the cause was equal parts acquired taste and lower standards.
See, I buy strange things and don’t even try to eat them–I just put them on a shelf in my kitchen and look at them.
I like freeze dried mangosteen it tastes delicious.
Yeah, I buy all of that stuff, too, but I stopped trying to eat it years ago. I just look at it.
Actually, yeah, Keri brought home some dried mango slices from Hong Kong last year that were some of the most delicious things ever.
Then again, she also brought back these mummified plums that are disgusting.
Flannery, I should be following in your and your mother’s footsteps. The question is, can I resist the temptation that maybe, just this one time, the fruit will be sweet and delicious?
The best bet is to buy a dehydrator and dry your own fruit. Yum. It is not difficult at all. You can also make excellent kale chips with tahini paste, garlic and tamari and the like and you would not believe how delicious those are. I’ve bought them and nothing tastes as good as the ones I make.
You can do the slow drying in your oven but it takes a long time and you are wasting energy. However, I have done that.
My favorite exotic fruit is a dragon fruit–pink football-shaped rubbery thing with white (or red) flesh inside speckled with tiny black seeds. Strawberry/watermelon taste. But to tell the truth, I like to look at it more than I like eating it. I have wanted to try a Durian fruit. From what I hear one should not open it up on a bus; it has the odd property of having a lovely taste that its odor certainly doesn’t suggest.
I have been daring myself to try a Durian too, Daryl. They are scary looking. The Durian are next to the young coconuts I buy at a big international market in Annandale, VA, which has excellent prices on produce and every exotic thing you can imagine and more. I use the coconuts in a “yogurt” I make. I whirl almonds soaked in water for 12-24 hours with the meat and milk of the young Thai coconuts and add a dash of powdered probiotics. Very addicting.
I will try a Durian if you will, Daryl!
India ate a durian.
That sounds like a taunt. Or a gateway to enlightenment.
Oh dear. I may be withdrawing my dare to Daryl about eating a Durian after reading what India said. I could never have one here. The Iowan and Mr. Boudreaux have superhuman smelling capacities. I’m never able to sneak foul things into the place. They can detect them under the essential oils I distribute to fake the boys out.
Carole, I love the idea of your trying to sneak foul things into the house — and of faking the boys out with essential oils. It sounds kind of, you know, witchy.
For a while, when I shared a household, I had a little pile of things on the fireplace surround: part of something’s leg bone, various feathers, and a patch of furred skin that some critter had torn off of another critter.
They are beyond peculiar, Shelia. The Iowan hates “smelly” cheese, including parmesan. But loves pizza and the like. He will say, “you’ve put some kind of essential oil around the fireplace mantle. What are you up to?” I don’t tell him. He really doesn’t want to know about anything even resembling witchery.
Decades ago, a friend asked, “Have you ever noticed that Parmesan cheese smells like vomit?” Well, yeah, I replied. So? What’s not to like?
I like stinky cheese. And other foul things. Still, India’s description of her encounter with a durian gives me pause.
As for witchery, if everyone knew about it, it might not be witchery.
I will eat anything and am rarely disgusted.
“I sure will be disgusted if this dog ain’t full of mustard.”
Parmesan smells like stinky feet. Bleu Cheese smells like vomit. I will eat the shit out of either one.
Don’t know about Durian. Don’t have a frame of reference.
My brother called parmesan “Dr. Scholl’s.”
I feel like y’all are buying the wrong Parmesan cheese.
Dr. Scholl’s.
Thanks to Danny, I’ve discovered the delight of stinky cheeses. He buys the right ones.
What is the stinky cheese, written about/sung about by Cole Porter? I’m drawing a blank.
I haven’t tasted that one.
I found it: Camembert!
I haven’t tasted it.
That grouse — so rare!
That old Camembert!
One of my favourite cheeses is Époisses de Bourgogne and it is a tad stinky, but, I love it! Highly recommended.
I have to drive all the way to Dubuque for Époisses de Bourgogne. But it’s worth it.
I had barely been out of Alabama when I went to Greece and was introduced to feta cheese, which at first I hated. Then I learned to anesthetize my mouth with retsina or ouzo. Everything tasted fabulous!
“There wasn’t any parmesan and I said ‘I’m the moon, I’m made of cheese, why don’t you grate off a portion of my head’, and they did and it tasted of baby sick.” – Noel Fielding as The Moon in Mighty Boosh
Amy and I tried a durian smoothie last night. For fuck’s sake.
I’m sure that it didn’t constitute a dessert!
Did you like it Deron?
Um, what’s the word I’m looking for?
It is an evil genius.
That sure was nice of y’all to do that so now Daryl doesn’t have to.
If I can find one, I’m going to bring it to the farm at the end of the month.
If I can find more Giant Pussies, I’ll bring some of those, too.
Noted.