It was a hot day. The ice-cream vendor outside the Central Market in Kuala Lumpur was ringing her bell invitingly; I stopped to look. On offer was durian ice-cream. Now, I’ve tried durian in various ways from different vendors over the years, and I’ve never met a durian I liked. It’s not so much the smell, which is pretty aggressive – think over-ripe pineapple left to rot in the sun with an overlay of dog urine. For me it’s the texture, slimy and somehow unnatural, plus the fact your burps will taste like durian for hours after. But I’d never tried durian ice-cream; maybe this would be magic. The vendor saw my hesitation and offered me a sample. And – nope, I still don’t like durian, even in sweetened, frozen form. The vendor still made out
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