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

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

我以同樣的激情發(fā)誓，那絕對(duì)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(gè)什么樣的存在？它的形狀像個(gè)橄欖球，全身長(zhǎng)滿了足以刺穿最粗糙手掌的巨刺。因?yàn)閷?shí)在太臭，榴蓮被禁止進(jìn)入機(jī)場(chǎng)、酒店和大多數(shù)東南亞城市的大眾交通工具。在這方規(guī)矩往往被打破和扭曲的土地上，攜帶榴蓮進(jìn)入被禁止的場(chǎng)所卻堅(jiān)決不被容許，懲罰方式是被臭臉或直接趕出。

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(wàn)水，取消所有重要約會(huì)，付出所有——只為狼吞虎咽一瓣瓣蛋奶凍般的榴蓮果肉。雖然許多泰國(guó)人喜歡趁榴蓮尚未熟透就將其采摘，這樣內(nèi)部的果肉比較硬，易于干凈利落地處理，我卻偏愛(ài)有些熟過(guò)頭的榴蓮，吃起來(lái)有鄉(xiāng)村奶酪的那種綿軟粘稠。那可是個(gè)邋遢的畫(huà)面。

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(zhēng)議的水果（我超享受鍵入這句話時(shí)的感覺(jué)，因?yàn)榛蛟S你不會(huì)有其它機(jī)會(huì)把“富有爭(zhēng)議”和“水果”這兩個(gè)詞聯(lián)系在一起了吧）。

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(gè)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(jì)來(lái)到此處的法國(guó)外交官，每每寫(xiě)到暹羅王朝都懷著不尋常的情結(jié)，除了在提到榴蓮時(shí)，將其氣味描述為“令人無(wú)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(gè)從事了近20年海外工作的駐外記者，一個(gè)永遠(yuǎn)追求公平、理性地寫(xiě)作的記者，我要暫時(shí)拋開(kāi)客觀來(lái)為這馬來(lái)西亞人的水果之王大唱贊歌。

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(méi)錯(cuò)，我發(fā)自內(nèi)心地承認(rèn)它成熟后聞起來(lái)就像是動(dòng)物的死尸。沒(méi)錯(cuò)，這水果可不好對(duì)付，它看起來(lái)像中世紀(jì)的武器。然而，嘗一口它外皮里面滑膩的淡黃色果肉，你將感受到滿口馥郁：混合了榛果、杏子、焦糖香蕉和雞蛋布丁的醇厚。那就是我對(duì)榴蓮的感受。語(yǔ)言在此處是如此蒼白，沒(méi)有任何一種水果可以與之相比擬。鮑勃將它比作20世紀(jì)法國(guó)作曲家?jiàn)W利維·梅西安(Olivier Messiaen)的作品：復(fù)雜、不和諧，但總的來(lái)說(shuō)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年前我剛被派到吉隆坡的時(shí)候。堆滿榴蓮的卡車從馬來(lái)西亞郊區(qū)駛來(lái)。無(wú)數(shù)個(gè)夜晚，我和朋友們坐在路邊的塑料凳上品嘗各色品種。馬來(lái)西亞人不像泰國(guó)人那樣從樹(shù)上砍，而是等它們自己落下來(lái)，從而得到更熟更重口味的榴蓮，有時(shí)甚至?xí)�微微發(fā)酵。馬來(lái)西亞的榴蓮果農(nóng)以佩戴頭盔著稱——誰(shuí)也不想成為一個(gè)五磅重的狼牙炸彈的目標(biāo)。馬來(lái)西亞人還認(rèn)為榴蓮是一種春藥。有句馬來(lái)俚語(yǔ)是這么說(shuō)的：當(dāng)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(gè)化學(xué)家與廚師聯(lián)手以無(wú)與倫比的復(fù)雜創(chuàng)造食物的時(shí)代，從袋裝的小吃到米其林星級(jí)餐廳里昂貴的大餐。

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.

我最愛(ài)榴蓮的一點(diǎn)是，你完全用不著一間實(shí)驗(yàn)室來(lái)獲得它的味道所具有的深度和層次。它是大自然的杰作，是飄搖在叢林里的誘惑。榴蓮，即使是同一根樹(shù)枝上的果實(shí)，風(fēng)味于細(xì)微處也會(huì)千差萬(wàn)別，品味它們的過(guò)程如同品鑒頂級(jí)紅酒。

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(guó)菜專家，寫(xiě)了幾十年餐廳評(píng)論，說(shuō)榴蓮總讓他想起法國(guó)的焦糖蛋奶凍。“它吃起來(lái)完全像是出自廚房的食物，而不是長(zhǎng)在樹(shù)上的”，他在品嘗了一個(gè)特別美味的榴蓮后說(shuō)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(guó)，榴蓮季節(jié)從5月開(kāi)始直到11月，依緯度而變化。現(xiàn)在果農(nóng)們已經(jīng)有辦法讓榴蓮能全年收獲。榴蓮深受泰國(guó)精英階層的青睞，他們喜歡將淦耀(gan yao)榴蓮，一個(gè)把兒特別長(zhǎng)的品種，作為禮品送給商業(yè)伙伴或政府高官（沒(méi)錯(cuò)，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(lái)西亞、印度尼西亞、菲律賓和東南亞其他一些地方也產(chǎn)榴蓮。在馬來(lái)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.

我和鮑勃最近到曼谷的三個(gè)地方去品鑒榴蓮：一個(gè)高端的曼谷水果市場(chǎng)；中國(guó)城的路邊攤——在那里，榴蓮愛(ài)好者們整年都可以過(guò)足口癮，一直吃到曼谷濕熱夜晚的凌晨時(shí)分；還有曼谷城外的榴蓮種植園——那是組團(tuán)吃榴蓮的人的必去之處，有300棵榴蓮樹(shù)和超過(guò)24個(gè)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(dāng)然可以通過(guò)谷歌來(lái)了解‘榴蓮’，”果園主人查迪·索旺納查庫(kù)(Chartree Sowanatrakul)說(shuō)道，“但來(lái)到這兒，你馬上就可以超越谷歌。”

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嘗，尤其是那些因?yàn)樘﹪?guó)水果的同質(zhì)化而變得越來(lái)越稀少的品種（正如西方的溫室西紅柿一樣，泰國(guó)也開(kāi)始主要種植賣相好和易于運(yùn)輸?shù)乃�果，剝奪了水果愛(ài)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，位于綿延至泰國(guó)東北部的呵叻高原的山麓上，從曼谷開(kāi)車過(guò)去要兩個(gè)小時(shí)。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(gè)兒圓形水果，白色的果肉吃起來(lái)很甜，許多人相信它能與榴蓮相媲美）。這個(gè)果園有著不尋常的創(chuàng)業(yè)史。查迪的父親在20世紀(jì)40年代從曼谷富人區(qū)的垃圾箱里搜集果核開(kāi)始種植，讓這個(gè)果園成了稀有品類的種子銀行，在那里能找到許多在大眾批量種植市場(chǎng)根本找不到的品種。查迪用一種他稱為Nom Sot（泰語(yǔ)：鮮奶）的榴蓮招待我們，果園里的其他品種還包括Gop（泰語(yǔ)：青蛙）、Chanee（泰語(yǔ)：一種猴子的名字）和La ong fa（一種泰國(guó)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(lái)這里的老人都說(shuō)，這兒的榴蓮吃起來(lái)就像他們年輕時(shí)吃過(guò)的味道，”查迪說(shuō)。

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.

榴蓮是一種社交型水果，通常是和朋友們一起分享。可是必須承認(rèn)，我有時(shí)獨(dú)自吃榴蓮。就像獨(dú)自吃生日蛋糕或者在公園從紙袋里掏出大罐兒啤酒一個(gè)人喝，感覺(jué)有點(diǎn)悲涼。說(shuō)到這兒我又想起了一個(gè)重點(diǎn)，所有的榴蓮愛(ài)好者們都知道：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(gè)榴蓮季節(jié)，都有某些人吃了大量榴蓮、喝了大量酒之后暈倒甚至更糟的故事。雖然我從來(lái)沒(méi)讀過(guò)或聽(tīng)說(shuō)過(guò)任何關(guān)于這方面的科學(xué)解釋。但榴蓮對(duì)個(gè)人健康不利是件被公認(rèn)的常識(shí)。幾年前我在例行體檢后，醫(yī)生說(shuō)我的三酸甘油酯（一種血脂）偏高。她給我的小冊(cè)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.

即使如此，我的很多榴蓮?fù)�好們這些年都挺了過(guò)來(lái)，這一點(diǎn)消除了我的顧慮，呃，至少他們都還活著。世界上有太多比榴蓮危險(xiǎn)得多的食物——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(jié)束這程肆無(wú)忌憚的榴蓮馬拉松時(shí)，我們感覺(jué)自己不是在路上走而是在滾動(dòng)，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。”