My Beloved loves durians. His mother, who grew up in the South, loves durians, too. I guess he inherited the taste for it from her. She used to work for a Supervisor who received durians as gifts. She would tell us that they had so many durians they didn’t know what to do with them. You could fill an 8 ft by 2 ft room up to 5 ft high with all the durians they had…Those were the old days.
I do not like durians. I do not like the strong smell and the equally strong taste. The most I can eat that has any durian in it is the Candy sold at pasalubong counters.
Last week, as a treat to himself, my Beloved bought some durian. I told him that he must have it packed properly. He promised that he will. I’m sure he tried his very best but the car smelled of durian the moment I opened the door (he had gone ahead to pack our groceries in). I don’t hate durian. I just don’t like it. My kids, who have super-sensitive noses like me, do not like it also. We tried our best to ignore the durian on the drive home.
When we got home I told my Beloved that he must eat it immediately. This meant that the fruit should not last more than a day inside the refrigerator. After a few hours our drinking water was starting to acquire a durian flavour. Each time we opened the refrigerator the scent would waft out and spread out to the kitchen into the rest of the dining room and hallways.
To be fair, my Beloved ate all of it after dinner. He was very happy afterwards. The last time he had durian was several months ago. It’s hard to find durian in the supermarket that’s ready to eat and in portions that he can easily finish by himself.
But the scent is still there when I open the refrigerator, even after a few days have passed.
I don’t hate durians. I just don’t like the smell and taste of them. But my Beloved loves them. So, for the sake of love, I’m willing to have them in our home.