According to Phillip Till on CKNW, summer is not the time for heavy, policy-laden talk show issues. Summer should be filled with "powder puff" topics, like saving starving dogs in Athens or how much money it actually takes to live like the stereotypical millionaire in Canada these days. I'm taking my lead from a recent TIME blurb on "weird" fruit, not because I find any of them particularly weird, but because I happen to have a particular grudge against one of them.
It's a crying shame that durians are better anime-ated or made into plush toys than dragon fruit or rambutans, because they really do stink to high heaven. I remember how a few years ago, a little while after we finally got the ice maker in our fridge working, my parents brought another one of the accursed fruit home and left the stuff they didn't finish in the fridge. We still can't figure out how the durian got from one side of the fridge to the other, but we had durian-flavoured ice for a week. That's gross.
They must have been inspired, though; my parents' latest thing is home-made durian ice cream. We've had spotty success with the ice cream maker so far -- fantastic strawberry ice cream, mango sorbet you have to eat with a pickaxe -- but you wouldn't know it from the way they churn out the goopy yellow stuff and get friends over to ooh and aah over it. I mean, I've tried the stuff, and it tastes like pureed garlic and onions with little bits of fibre tossed in for fun.
I can't believe I have to hold my breath every time I open the fridge for more milk for my tea. But then again, who am I say I make life easy for my roommates considering my interesting interpretations of Chinese cuisine?
It's a crying shame that durians are better anime-ated or made into plush toys than dragon fruit or rambutans, because they really do stink to high heaven. I remember how a few years ago, a little while after we finally got the ice maker in our fridge working, my parents brought another one of the accursed fruit home and left the stuff they didn't finish in the fridge. We still can't figure out how the durian got from one side of the fridge to the other, but we had durian-flavoured ice for a week. That's gross.
They must have been inspired, though; my parents' latest thing is home-made durian ice cream. We've had spotty success with the ice cream maker so far -- fantastic strawberry ice cream, mango sorbet you have to eat with a pickaxe -- but you wouldn't know it from the way they churn out the goopy yellow stuff and get friends over to ooh and aah over it. I mean, I've tried the stuff, and it tastes like pureed garlic and onions with little bits of fibre tossed in for fun.
I can't believe I have to hold my breath every time I open the fridge for more milk for my tea. But then again, who am I say I make life easy for my roommates considering my interesting interpretations of Chinese cuisine?
