每當我的朋友鮑勃·哈立德(Bob Halliday)談起榴蓮，那種傳說中臭得像垃圾一樣的熱帶水果，他不光會懷著美好遐想垂涎三尺，還會“像噴泉一樣冒泡泡”。那就是在我們啟程前往曼穀北部一座果園時他說的原話。那裏，那些危險的尖尖的綠色果實在高聳的樹幹上晃晃悠悠。

I confess to the same passion with what must be the world’s smelliest fruit.

我以同樣的激情發誓

，那絕對是世界上最臭的水果。

What is it about the durian? Shaped like a rugby ball with large thorns that can pierce even the most callused hands, durian stinks so badly that it’s banned from airplanes, hotels and mass transit in most Southeast Asian cities. In a part of the world where rules are constantly bent and broken, carrying a durian into confined spaces is not taken lightly, punishable by scowls or eviction.

榴蓮到底是個什麼樣的存在？它的形狀像個橄欖球，全身長滿了足以刺穿最粗糙手掌的巨刺。因為實在太臭

，榴蓮被禁止進入機場、酒(jiu)店(dian)和(he)大(da)多(duo)數(shu)東(dong)南(nan)亞(ya)城(cheng)市(shi)的(de)大(da)眾(zhong)交(jiao)通(tong)工(gong)具(ju)。在(zai)這(zhe)方(fang)規(gui)矩(ju)往(wang)往(wang)被(bei)打(da)破(po)和(he)扭(niu)曲(qu)的(de)土(tu)地(di)上(shang)，攜(xie)帶(dai)榴(liu)蓮(lian)進(jin)入(ru)被(bei)禁(jin)止(zhi)的(de)場(chang)所(suo)卻(que)堅(jian)決(jue)不(bu)被(bei)容(rong)許(xu)，懲(cheng)罰(fa)方(fang)式(shi)是(shi)被(bei)臭(chou)臉(lian)或(huo)直(zhi)接(jie)趕(gan)出(chu)。

Yet aficionados like Bob and me will travel terrible distances, cancel important appointments — do anything — to scarf down globs of custardy flesh from a durian. While many Thais like their durians harvested early so the interior is still hard and can be neatly handled, I like an over-ripened durian, which has the consistency of cottage cheese. It’s a very messy affair.

然而像鮑勃這樣的榴蓮粉絲不惜跨越千山萬水，取消所有重要約會，付出所有——隻zhi為wei狼lang吞tun虎hu咽yan一yi瓣ban瓣ban蛋dan奶nai凍dong般ban的de榴liu蓮lian果guo肉rou。雖sui然ran許xu多duo泰tai國guo人ren喜xi歡huan趁chen榴liu蓮lian尚shang未wei熟shu透tou就jiu將jiang其qi采cai摘zhai，這zhe樣yang內nei部bu的de果guo肉rou比bi較jiao硬ying，易yi於yu幹gan淨jing利li落luo地di處chu理li，我wo卻que偏pian愛ai有you些xie熟shu過guo頭tou的de榴liu蓮lian
，吃chi起qi來lai有you鄉xiang村cun奶nai酪lao的de那na種zhong綿mian軟ruan粘zhan稠chou。那na可ke是shi個ge邋la遢ta的de畫hua麵mian。

It goes without saying that durian is a polarizing and controversial fruit. (I take pleasure in typing that sentence because there is probably no other time you can combine “controversial” and “fruit.”)

毋庸置疑
，榴蓮是一種兩極化而富有爭議的水果（我超享受鍵入這句話時的感覺
，因為或許你不會有其它機會把“富有爭議”和“水果”這兩個詞聯係在一起了吧）。

There is a long tradition of durian haters who cannot get past the smell and gooey-ness of durian, especially among Western visitors to Southeast Asia. Simon de La Loubère, a French diplomat who came here in the 17th century and wrote with unusual empathy about the Kingdom of Siam, drew the line at durian, describing it as “unbearable” because of its smell.

討厭榴蓮的人有一個集體特征就是那種黏糊糊的惡臭的記憶總讓他們久久揮之不去，尤其是那些去東南亞的西方人。西蒙·德·拉·魯貝爾(Simon de La Loubère)，一位17世紀來到此處的法國外交官，每每寫到暹羅王朝都懷著不尋常的情結，除了在提到榴蓮時，將其氣味描述為“令人無法忍受”。

But as a foreign correspondent for nearly two decades who has always sought to write fairly and dispassionately, I dispense with objectivity for a moment and attempt an ode to what the Malaysians rightly call the king of fruits.

即使如此，作為一個從事了近20年海外工作的駐外記者
，一個永遠追求公平、理性地寫作的記者，我要暫時拋開客觀來為這馬來西亞人的水果之王大唱讚歌。

Yes, I freely admit that when ripe it can smell like a dead animal. Yes, the fruit is difficult to handle, bearing likeness to a medieval weapon. But get down to the pale yellow, creamy flesh, and you’ll experience overtones of hazelnut, apricot, caramelized banana and egg custard. That’s my attempt at describing durian. But words fail; there is no other fruit like it. Bob compares it to the works of Olivier Messiaen, the 20th-century French composer: complex, dissonant, but with an overall impression of sweetness.

沒mei錯cuo，我wo發fa自zi內nei心xin地di承cheng認ren它ta成cheng熟shu後hou聞wen起qi來lai就jiu像xiang是shi動dong物wu的de死si屍shi。沒mei錯cuo，這zhe水shui果guo可ke不bu好hao對dui付fu，它ta看kan起qi來lai像xiang中zhong世shi紀ji的de武wu器qi。然ran而er，嚐chang一yi口kou它ta外wai皮pi裏li麵mian滑hua膩ni的de淡dan黃huang色se果guo肉rou
，你ni將jiang感gan受shou到dao滿man口kou馥fu鬱yu：混合了榛果、杏子、焦糖香蕉和雞蛋布丁的醇厚。那就是我對榴蓮的感受。語言在此處是如此蒼白，沒有任何一種水果可以與之相比擬。鮑勃將它比作20世紀法國作曲家奧利維·梅西安(Olivier Messiaen)的作品：複雜、不和諧
，但總的來說給你一種甜美的印象。

The first time I tasted durian was when I was posted in Kuala Lumpur 15 years ago. Trucks piled high with the fruit would come in from the Malaysian countryside, and I would spend evenings sitting with friends on plastic stools by the roadside sampling different varieties. Unlike the Thais, who cut durians down from trees, Malaysians usually wait for them to fall. The result is a much riper and stronger-tasting durian, sometimes slightly fermented. Durian farmers in Malaysia have been known to wear helmets: No one wants to be on the receiving end of a five-pound spike-bomb. Malaysians also believe that durian is an aphrodisiac. When the durians fall, the sarongs go up, goes a Malaysian saying.

第一次吃榴蓮是15年(nian)前(qian)我(wo)剛(gang)被(bei)派(pai)到(dao)吉(ji)隆(long)坡(po)的(de)時(shi)候(hou)。堆(dui)滿(man)榴(liu)蓮(lian)的(de)卡(ka)車(che)從(cong)馬(ma)來(lai)西(xi)亞(ya)郊(jiao)區(qu)駛(shi)來(lai)。無(wu)數(shu)個(ge)夜(ye)晚(wan)，我(wo)和(he)朋(peng)友(you)們(men)坐(zuo)在(zai)路(lu)邊(bian)的(de)塑(su)料(liao)凳(deng)上(shang)品(pin)嚐(chang)各(ge)色(se)品(pin)種(zhong)。馬(ma)來(lai)西(xi)亞(ya)人(ren)不(bu)像(xiang)泰(tai)國(guo)人(ren)那(na)樣(yang)從(cong)樹(shu)上(shang)砍(kan)
，而(er)是(shi)等(deng)它(ta)們(men)自(zi)己(ji)落(luo)下(xia)來(lai)，從(cong)而(er)得(de)到(dao)更(geng)熟(shu)更(geng)重(zhong)口(kou)味(wei)的(de)榴(liu)蓮(lian)，有(you)時(shi)甚(shen)至(zhi)會(hui)微(wei)微(wei)發(fa)酵(jiao)。馬(ma)來(lai)西(xi)亞(ya)的(de)榴(liu)蓮(lian)果(guo)農(nong)以(yi)佩(pei)戴(dai)頭(tou)盔(kui)著(zhu)稱(cheng)——誰也不想成為一個五磅重的狼牙炸彈的目標。馬來西亞人還認為榴蓮是一種春藥。有句馬來俚語是這麼說的：當榴蓮落下，紗籠飄起。

We live in a time when chemists and cooks have joined hands to concoct foods of unrivaled complexity in everything from packaged snack food to wallet-crushing meals at Michelin-starred restaurants.

我們正生活在一個化學家與廚師聯手以無與倫比的複雜創造食物的時代，從袋裝的小吃到米其林星級餐廳裏昂貴的大餐。

What I love about durians is that there is no laboratory needed to achieve the depth and range of tastes they offer. It’s one of nature’s masterpieces, dangling tantalizingly in the jungle. Durians, even those harvested from the same branch, can be so nuanced and dissimilar that tasting them is something akin to sampling fine wine.

wozuiailiuliandeyidianshi，niwanquanyongbuzheyijianshiyanshilaihuodetadeweidaosuojuyoudeshenduhecengci。tashidazirandejiezuo
，shipiaoyaozaiconglinlideyouhuo。liulian
，jishishitongyigenshuzhishangdeguoshi
，fengweiyuxiweichuyehuiqianchawanbie
，pinweitamendeguochengrutongpinjiandingjihongjiu。

Bob, one of the foremost experts on the food of Thailand who has written restaurant reviews there for decades, said that durian reminds him of crème brûlée. “It tastes like something that was prepared in a kitchen, not grown on a tree,” he said after sampling a particularly delightful durian.

鮑勃
，這位資深的泰國菜專家
，寫了幾十年餐廳評論，說榴蓮總讓他想起法國的焦糖蛋奶凍。“它吃起來完全像是出自廚房的食物，而不是長在樹上的”，他在品嚐了一個特別美味的榴蓮後說道。

Durian season starts in May and tapers off around November in Thailand, depending on the latitude. But these days orchard owners have managed to coax the fruit from trees year round. They are prized by the Thai elite, who offer gan yao durians, a delectable variety with a long stem, as gifts to business partners or senior government officials. (Yes, a durian bribe.) One fruit can easily sell for $50.

在泰國，榴蓮季節從5月開始直到11月
，依緯度而變化。現在果農們已經有辦法讓榴蓮能全年收獲。榴蓮深受泰國精英階層的青睞
，他們喜歡將淦耀(gan yao)榴蓮
，一個把兒特別長的品種，作為禮品送給商業夥伴或政府高官（沒錯
，用榴蓮行賄）。一顆就能輕易賣到50美金。

Durians also grow in Malaysia, Indonesia, the Philippines and other parts of Southeast Asia. In Malaysia the season extends until around the end of the year.

馬來西亞
、印度尼西亞、菲律賓和東南亞其他一些地方也產榴蓮。在馬來西亞
，（從5月）到年底都是榴蓮季。

Bob and I recently traveled to three places around Bangkok to sample durian: a high-end Bangkok fruit market; roadside stalls in Chinatown, where durian lovers can get their fix year round until the wee hours of the steamy Bangkok night; and the durian orchard outside Bangkok, cherished by durian groupies for its more than two dozen varieties and 300 trees.

我和鮑勃最近到曼穀的三個地方去品鑒榴蓮：一個高端的曼穀水果市場；中國城的路邊攤——在那裏，榴蓮愛好者們整年都可以過足口癮，一直吃到曼穀濕熱夜晚的淩晨時分
；還有曼穀城外的榴蓮種植園——那是組團吃榴蓮的人的必去之處，有300棵榴蓮樹和超過24個品種。

“You can Google ‘durian’ and learn a lot,” said Chartree Sowanatrakul, the owner of the orchard. “But when you come here you will go beyond Google.”

“你當然可以通過穀歌來了解‘榴蓮’，”果園主人查迪·索旺納查庫(Chartree Sowanatrakul)說道，“但來到這兒，你馬上就可以超越穀歌。”

Our quest was to try as many varieties as we could, especially those that are becoming increasingly hard to find with the homogenization of Thai fruit. (Like the production of greenhouse tomatoes in the West, Thailand specializes in breeding fruit for beauty and ease of transport, robbing fruit lovers of variety.)

我們要求盡可能多樣化地品嚐
，尤其是那些因為泰國水果的同質化而變得越來越稀少的品種（正如西方的溫室西紅柿一樣，泰國也開始主要種植賣相好和易於運輸的水果
，剝奪了水果愛好者們的多種選擇）。

Chartree’s six-acre orchard is a two-hour drive from Bangkok in the foothills of the Khorat Plateau, which extends into northeastern Thailand. He served us freshly harvested durian, pineapple and mangosteen, a small round purple fruit with sweet white flesh that many people believe is the perfect complement to durian. The orchard has an unusual genesis. Chartree’s father planted the trees from durian pits he collected in the trash bins of wealthy Bangkok residents in the 1940s, making it a sort of seed bank of varieties that are no longer in commercial production. We were treated to a wonderful variety that Chartree has named nom sot (fresh milk). Other types in the orchard include gop (frog), chanee (a type of monkey) and la ong fa (a Thai sweet).

查迪的果園有六英畝，位於綿延至泰國東北部的嗬叻高原的山麓上，從曼穀開車過去要兩個小時。他為我們奉上新鮮采摘的榴蓮
、菠蘿和山竹（一種紫色的小個兒圓形水果，白色的果肉吃起來很甜，許多人相信它能與榴蓮相媲美）。這個果園有著不尋常的創業史。查迪的父親在20世紀40年(nian)代(dai)從(cong)曼(man)穀(gu)富(fu)人(ren)區(qu)的(de)垃(la)圾(ji)箱(xiang)裏(li)搜(sou)集(ji)果(guo)核(he)開(kai)始(shi)種(zhong)植(zhi)，讓(rang)這(zhe)個(ge)果(guo)園(yuan)成(cheng)了(le)稀(xi)有(you)品(pin)類(lei)的(de)種(zhong)子(zi)銀(yin)行(xing)

，在(zai)那(na)裏(li)能(neng)找(zhao)到(dao)許(xu)多(duo)在(zai)大(da)眾(zhong)批(pi)量(liang)種(zhong)植(zhi)市(shi)場(chang)根(gen)本(ben)找(zhao)不(bu)到(dao)的(de)品(pin)種(zhong)。查(zha)迪(di)用(yong)一(yi)種(zhong)他(ta)稱(cheng)為(wei)Nom Sot（泰語：鮮奶）的榴蓮招待我們，果園裏的其他品種還包括Gop（泰語：青蛙）
、Chanee（泰語：一種猴子的名字）和La ong fa（一種泰國甜品）。

“Old people come here and say the durians here taste just like the durians they had when they were young,” Chartree said.

“許多來這裏的老人都說，這兒的榴蓮吃起來就像他們年輕時吃過的味道，”查迪說。

Durian is a very social fruit, usually eaten among friends. But I confess that I have sometimes eaten durian alone. Like eating birthday cake by yourself or drinking a tall boy out of a paper bag in a public park, it feels somewhat sad and illicit. Which brings up another point. As any durian fan will tell you, durian and alcohol don’t mix.

榴liu蓮lian是shi一yi種zhong社she交jiao型xing水shui果guo

，通tong常chang是shi和he朋peng友you們men一yi起qi分fen享xiang。可ke是shi必bi須xu承cheng認ren，我wo有you時shi獨du自zi吃chi榴liu蓮lian。就jiu像xiang獨du自zi吃chi生sheng日ri蛋dan糕gao或huo者zhe在zai公gong園yuan從cong紙zhi袋dai裏li掏tao出chu大da罐guan兒er啤pi酒jiu一yi個ge人ren喝he，感gan覺jiao有you點dian悲bei涼liang。說shuo到dao這zhe兒er我wo又you想xiang起qi了le一yi個ge重zhong點dian
，所suo有you的de榴liu蓮lian愛ai好hao者zhe們men都dou知zhi道dao：榴蓮與酒是不相容的。

With every durian season come stories about people who have collapsed — or worse — when they’ve had large quantities of durian and alcohol. I have never read or heard of a scientific explanation for this, if there is one. But it is widely recognized that durian season can be deleterious to your health. A few years ago, after a routine physical checkup, I was told by my doctor that my triglycerides, a type of fat in the blood, were above normal. She gave me a pamphlet in which the first piece of advice was to cut down on durian or avoid it altogether.

每個榴蓮季節，都有某些人吃了大量榴蓮、喝(he)了(le)大(da)量(liang)酒(jiu)之(zhi)後(hou)暈(yun)倒(dao)甚(shen)至(zhi)更(geng)糟(zao)的(de)故(gu)事(shi)。雖(sui)然(ran)我(wo)從(cong)來(lai)沒(mei)讀(du)過(guo)或(huo)聽(ting)說(shuo)過(guo)任(ren)何(he)關(guan)於(yu)這(zhe)方(fang)麵(mian)的(de)科(ke)學(xue)解(jie)釋(shi)。但(dan)榴(liu)蓮(lian)對(dui)個(ge)人(ren)健(jian)康(kang)不(bu)利(li)是(shi)件(jian)被(bei)公(gong)認(ren)的(de)常(chang)識(shi)。幾(ji)年(nian)前(qian)我(wo)在(zai)例(li)行(xing)體(ti)檢(jian)後(hou)
，醫(yi)生(sheng)說(shuo)我(wo)的(de)三(san)酸(suan)甘(gan)油(you)酯(zhi)（一種血脂）偏高。她給我的小冊子上頭一條建議就是少吃甚至完全戒掉榴蓮。

But many of my fellow durian-loving friends are getting along in age, and it reassures me that, well, they are still alive. There are, after all, much more dangerous foods to consume than durian. Blowfish comes to mind.

即ji使shi如ru此ci，我wo的de很hen多duo榴liu蓮lian同tong好hao們men這zhe些xie年nian都dou挺ting了le過guo來lai，這zhe一yi點dian消xiao除chu了le我wo的de顧gu慮lv，呃e
，至zhi少shao他ta們men都dou還hai活huo著zhe。世shi界jie上shang有you太tai多duo比bi榴liu蓮lian危wei險xian得de多duo的de食shi物wu——在此我想到了河豚。

After a recent and particularly indulgent durian-eating marathon, when we felt like rolling away instead of walking, Bob quoted William Blake. “The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”

在結束這程肆無忌憚的榴蓮馬拉鬆時，我們感覺自己不是在路上走而是在滾動，鮑勃引用了威廉·布萊克(William Blake)的名句：“超越極致是通向智慧之宮的必由之路。”