Kimia dates - best dates in the world

here are dates, nice dates and then there are great dates. At the lower side of the spectrum are those dry, unexciting dates from your local grocer or supermarket. Then there are dates with someone cute, kind and funny, who makes your heart skip a beat. And then there are Kimia dates: fragrant like wine, lusciously sweet, soft like set honey. As a lot of great food (and good people), they hail from a country from the US Axis of Evil, Iran. And truely so, Iranian gastronomy does sound like something favoured by very wicked folks: rose petal tea, chicken stewed in pomegranate molasses, saffron rice and black caviar. Yes, and Kimia dates for the dessert.

Custard apple or bullock's heart (น้อยหน่า)

don't call this fruit either custard apple or bullock's heart. Both names are utter nonsense. For the former, I can very well imagine how early European explorers were lost for words when they tasted this for the first time and picked up a word from their very limited frame of reference. For the latter, the bullock's heart, I just can't follow the line of associations. For me this fruit is forever Noy Naa. Removing the green scales with fingers, I love sinking my teeth into the white flesh that manages to be flaky, crumbly and juicy at the same time. It is full of black stones that are such a pleasure to spit out because they are so hard and slippery.

Malako: Thai papaya

ack in my vegan days (can't believe it actually happened to me!) I had periods when I would go fruitarian. That is, sustaining mostly on fruit. As I lived in Bangkok there was no lack of variety nor a burden on my budget.

The large and oblong squash-shaped variety of papaya that is common in Thailand is my favourite. Besides it is dirt cheap in that neck of the woods, in the ballpark of 20-40 Euro cent a pop.

When not yet ripe papaya is shredded to make the main ingredient for Thailand's national salad som tam. The authentic Thai way of eating ripe papaya requires sprinkling it with fresh lime juice.

++++++

Thai language school and translation agency in Bangkok, Thailand offering Thai, Chinese, English, Japanese, Russian and Laotian (Lao, Isarn, Isaan) language courses.

Thai durian does not smell!

he king of fruit, durian (ทุเรียน), is my favourite ever. Thanks to globalisation now you can buy it in many ethnic groceries even in the West. In Amsterdam it's to be found in Chinatown, in London - at Brixton Market.

It's got a bad rep because of its alleged pungent odour but that is so not true. The real culprit is the cheaper yellow-fleshed variety common in Malaysia in Indonesia. In Thailand it is known as Chani and generally looked down upon. It smells indeed rank and does not taste as good as the superior type, the more expensive Mong Thong, the Golden Pillow.

Its creamy flesh reminds of fruity custard but, really, is just incomparable to anything else. It is delightfully sweet but the Thais can't seem to have enough, they eat it with sweetened sticky rice boiled in coconut milk!

Recently I have seen writings by gormless individuals trying to bust the "myth" that combining durian with alcohol is dangerous. Whatever your "research" may say, I myself have had a near-death experience when I gulped down a can of beer half an hour after gorging on a durian. That was one of the most unpleasant physical experiences. Despite it was 30 degrees in the street, I was covered in sticky cold sweat. I felt sudden weakness like I was about to faint and there was nothing to do about it because both the fruit and alcohol had already been in the system. Creepy. So NEVER mix alcohol and durian!

Another Brixton find: Jamaican locust fruit

Living in Brixton is like living on an exotic island with British weather. Every overcast day brings a sunny discovery.

I found this strange fruit yesterday at Brixton market. The Jamaican vendor insisted this is the biblical locust that Jesus Christ sustained on while in the desert. Although it is beyond certain that the Gospel was on about a kind of grasshopper, a good source of protein in many cultures, I didn't argue with the good man and bought a piece of his merchandise.

This bean pod like thing turns out a native of the Caribbean and South America, known as West Indian locust fruit or "stinking toe" (Hymenaea courbaril). It is supposed to be very smelly but I found it anything but. It tastes somewhat like freeze-dried vanilla icecream with strong grassy overtones. The pod is so hard I had to put it under a foot of my bed and drop it from a 20-cm height.