As much as I loved Cambodia, I am bored to tears writing about it. Jeff is working on a guest blog on the Killing Fields, but I am feeling like I have beaten this topic to death and turned my Favorite Trip Ever into something akin to Aunt Lola's Four Hour Slide Show On Her Trip To Vancouver. So, we digress for a moment into a Fruit Lesson.
The Durian.
Anne B. is out there jumping up and down right now waving her arms (which she does periodically when we discuss fruit). "Yes! The Durian! I know the Durian!" One of the other Anns, the one who lived in Malaysia, can probably dredge up the olfactory nightmare that is the Durian from the recesses of her brain. Although she might be cursing me right about now for reviving it.
You, dear non-Ann(e) reader, should thank whichever merciful deity you chose if you do not know the Durian.
The Durian is a fruit that defies all laws of natural selection.
By which I mean, that fruit should be appealing. Fruit should be appealing, of course, in that the point of fruit is to distribute seeds. In order for seeds to be distributed, generally, some critter or another carries off the fruit for consumption. From my perspective, the Durian loses on all counts.
First off, the sucker is huge and covered with spikes. People who harvest these things are recommended to wear construction hard hats to prevent accidental death by Durian + gravity. So, few critters on earth are big enough or tough enough to carry one of these spiky puppies very far.
And, second, well, remember that mention of an "olfactory nightmare?" Let's let Wiki share this charming bit: "the edible flesh emits a distinctive odour, strong and penetrating even when the husk is intact. Some people regard the Durian as fragrant; others find the aroma overpowering and offensive. The smell evokes reactions from deep appreciation to intense disgust.
Here's another take:
British novelist Anthony Burgess writes that eating Durian is "like eating sweet raspberry blancmangein the lavatory." Chef Andrew Zimmern compares the taste to "completely rotten, mushy onions." Anthony Bourdain, while a lover of Durian, relates his encounter with the fruit as thus: "Its taste can only be described as...indescribable, something you will either love or despise. ...Your breath will smell as if you'd been French-kissing your dead grandmother."
Travel and food writer Richard Sterling says:
.. "its odor is best
described as pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym
sock. It can be smelled from yards away. Despite its great local
popularity, the raw fruit is forbidden from some establishments such as
hotels, subways and airports, including public transportation in
Southeast Asia." 
But, check out these photos! People all over Asia eat these things! While these photos are all from Cambodia, the Durian is available in my local Suguo during the Durian season! They are popular! And beloved! AND, as it turns out, I am also dead wrong on the natural selection bit. There are many animals who find this stuff delectable! Largish animals who manage to paw through the spiky exterior, swallow the seeds and re-deposit them far, far away from the parent plant. So, despite (some!) human deep disgust, the Durian does seem to be getting its seeds spread around to propagate the species.
And just how bad does it smell, you might ask, wrinkling up your nose in disgust? Bad. Really, really bad. I confess, I don't know how it tastes. I do promise that at some point I will pop one of these bad boys open and try it. Because, how can you not?? Aren't you curious?? And yet, I have not worked up my nerve to date. Probably around the same time someone finally convinces me to give Nanjing Stinky Bean Curd a go, I'll break open a Durian. I'll let you know how it goes.

You forgot (or perhaps you don't know, in which case, I apologize for bringing this up... or not ;-)
Anyway... you forgot to mention the infamous "durian tahi gajah". At least, that's what it's called in Malay. That would be "elephant sh!t durian".
Yes, folks, apparently sometimes an elephant swallows an intact durian, which eventually emerges from the other end. Even more fragrant than normal.
And this is viewed as a MAJOR four star delicacy by some.
Don't believe me? Go ahead - Google "durian tahi gajah". 20,000 hits when I checked. It's real, folks.
Scary, but real.
DO enjoy your next meal.
Posted by: Ann Ezzell | June 29, 2009 at 07:36 AM
Sounds like the Civit cat coffee. Google that!
They sell those fruits in the Asian markets here. Frozen. I may have to try it....
Posted by: Emryss | June 29, 2009 at 11:10 AM
But the civet coffee is just an alternative way to, um, process it. It's still coffee-y.
I'd love to try durian if only because I've read/heard so much about it.
Posted by: citydog | June 29, 2009 at 02:50 PM
So....how much does one of these little beauties cost???
Posted by: Debbie Hanson | June 29, 2009 at 09:31 PM
I would imagine an elephant Durian would still be "Durian-y"...but equally appealing to me as Civit-processed coffee...
Perhaps the two delicacies need to be enjoyed together, thinking about it.
Posted by: Emryss | June 30, 2009 at 06:57 AM
It sounds like Paperwhite daffodils. Some people LOOOOOVE theor smell; other people, not so much. I discovered which i was when i got home after work, opened the front door, and thought, "I've REALLLLY got to take the garbage out!" The Paperwhites my boyfriend gave me had bloomed.
Posted by: Anna L. | July 02, 2009 at 12:12 AM
Just checked the market. Durian is $6.99 a pound here. It has a vaguely musky odor, kind of like an overripe pineapple left in the gym. I don't think I'm willing to pop the $$$$ to try it, though. Sometimes I see cellophane-wrapped slices. Maybe then.
Posted by: Emryss | July 10, 2009 at 07:23 PM