And, among many precious baby vegetables, tiny artichokes to fry and eat whole in the typically Roman dish, carciofi alla giudia. Plus fresh, succulent figs along with paper-thin slices of prosciutto to wrap them in. For the truly adventurous, longing perhaps for a taste once revealed in Thailand or Singapore, somewhere in Southeast Asia, there is the durian. I've never tried this exotic fruit and imagine, from all reports, that I never will. Unless I first find some adept to do the dirty work.
Devotees admit, once cracked, it smells far more foul than rotten meat.
But, they rave, it tastes like the rarest nectar. How one gets past the stench to savor that nectar has never been clear to me. The durian's spiny surface looks like the chip carving I used to do at Girl Scout camp. The custardy interior is reputed not only divine, but aphrodisiac as well. While connoisseurs maintain that the durian, like some fine wines, doesn't travel well, it is there for the brave in Atlanta.