You say stinky, ... I say sweet?

When we were kids, in a time that feels ancient and in a place that is far, far away, somebody gave us canned cheese.  A tin, as we called it back then.

We had never tasted cheese, but we had read about this food item.  Especially in Enid Blyton books.  So, we were excited to finally get to have some cheese.  We had arrived!

Appa opened the can.

We could not believe it.  There it was.  Cheese.

A second after our eyes feasted on it, it was the nose's turn.

We could not believe it.  The stink of the cheese!

My memory is that we did not eat it, and dumped the whole damn thing.

We figured that different people have different tastes.  Like the bacon that kids in Enid Blyton books ate.

Decades later, cheese is a regular part of my meal, though there have been occasions or two when people have (wo)mansplained cheese types to me.  

Source

But, I draw the line at stinkiness.  Gorgonzola I can tolerate a bit.  As for the rest of them, I would rather have a penicillin shot than eat those damn bacteria!

What stinks or smells divine is so much a personal preference and, more importantly, a reflection of how we are raised.  Blue cheese and sea foods are alien to me and, well, they stink!

And then there is the durian from which Americans run away at speeds that will put Usain Bolt to shame.

How does a durian connoisseur describe the fruit?  Sweet and creamy like custard.  Ice-creamy.  "Musky and fleshy, but with bright citrusy caramel undertones."

Doesn't that description tempt you too?