The thorns give D14 away before the flesh does. They are big and hooked, and I have the scars to prove this durian does not want to be opened casually.
Freeze-dried durian is the version of the king that fits in a backpack. It weighs almost nothing and keeps for months on a shelf instead of hours in a fridge.
Walk through any night market in Penang or Bangkok between June and August, and one stall pulls the longest line. You smell it before you see it, a sweet
You spot a D10 by its green cap, and you lose one to its habit of splitting before you are ready. A ripe fruit cracked open on the branch in my greenhouse
People ask me this at every tasting, expecting a one-word answer, and I have learned to smile before I ruin it for them. The honest reply to which country
The first D11 that dropped in my greenhouse fooled me. No stench rolled out to announce it, so I found the fruit sitting on the floor by sight rather than
Picking a durian is the part beginners skip and then regret. The husk gives away almost nothing to an untrained eye, so people grab the biggest fruit
Chanee announces itself before you see it. Open one in a closed greenhouse and the garlic-and-onion note hangs in the air for an hour, which is exactly
Durian splits a room faster than anything else I grow. I have watched a first-time visitor gag at the smell from across the yard, then watched the friend
Half the fun of durian is the naming, and D15 is a small lesson in how tangled it gets. The fruit most Malaysian stalls sell as D15 is really Chanee, a