You may recall a recent PostScript column concerning unusual occupations which featured "odour sniffers'' who have the delightful job of sniffing human armpits to check whether a deodorant is doing its job. I did not realise that professional sniffers are in such demand. Last week it was announced that Thailand's Pollution Control Department had recruited 167 "smell assessors'' to sniff out factories responsible for some of the more malodourous emissions that upset citizens.
One could argue that you don't have to be an expert to distinguish between good smells and bad smells, but I wish these "assessors" the best of luck. They will need it especially during the current durian season when just about everything smells of durian. Just stick your nose outside the house and you can be sure to catch a whiff of the pungent fruit.
T-shirts inform us durian Tastes Like Heaven, Smells Like Hell and it evokes more debate than any other fruit. So what is it about durian that leads it to being banned by airlines, subways and hotels? Online remarks concerning the smell of the durian include "nauseating", "reminiscent of rotting onions" and "rancid cheese." Other comments describe the smell as resembling "unwashed socks", "decaying laundry" and "clogged drains." Well, you get the idea.
For some reason I don't find the smell really that bad. Bit of a whiff perhaps. Maybe I've been in Thailand too long.
Red hot chillies
Strange odours from Thai food were responsible for a spectacular raid by London police on a restaurant in Soho in October 2007. Police stormed into the Thai Cottage restaurant believing it was the source of a possible chemical attack after frightened citizens complained of an overwhelming smell that made their eyes run and left them gasping for breath. There was chaos as pedestrians rushed for cover fearing a deadly assault from a mysterious smell.
The "chemicals" turned out to be nothing more than chillies (nam prik pao) being innocently prepared by the Thai chef who was understandably a little taken aback when police and firefighters broke down the restaurant door and stormed into his kitchen ready to pounce on the soup of the day.
To be fair to those who raised the alarm, when nam prik pao is being cooked the fumes are decidedly unpleasant. They can get up your nose and down your throat if your body is not used to it. I can vouch for this first hand. Many years ago while eating at Pratunam market, I ended up in hospital after taking a full blast of chillies being cooked nearby which brought on a severe asthma attack.
Slip of the tongue
Talking of smells reminds me of an incident featuring an Australian friend who had just arrived in Thailand and was responsible for a verbal faux pas to which we are all vulnerable. He wished to brighten up his apartment and decided flowers would do the trick. He asked the maid to buy some sweet-smelling flowers. Well, that's what he thought he asked, but he noticed the maid seemed quite puzzled by his request.
It turned out he had heard the maid complaining about a smell earlier and had congratulated himself for remembering the Thai word for smell. What he was not aware of was that there was a different word for good smell (hom) and bad smell (men). Hence the look of bewilderment when he asked the maid to buy flowers that were men mahk (very bad smell).
Nothing to sniff at
Not all plants and flowers necessarily give off a pleasant aroma as two Bangkok Post colleagues, an American and a Kiwi, discovered some years ago. They shared a house and one day the American returned with what he claimed was a rare plant he bought at the old Weekend Market at Sanam Luang.
The Kiwi was not impressed by this "big bulb-looking thing" as he so eloquently described it. But the American assured him it was a hallowed uttaphit plant which would eventually grow into a specimen of great beauty. For some time the plant lay dormant, but then one day the household awoke to find the plant had opened up, revealing a great sticky, oozing mass, resembling a pile of rotting meat. Apart from attracting every fly in the neighbourhood and an army of insects, the plant was also giving off a horrible stink.
The smell was so overwhelming that the maid fell ill, and a visitor actually threw up when confronted by the dreadful stench. The neighbours were getting a bit restless too. Then as quickly as it had appeared, the plant stalk collapsed and died, although the smell lingered for many days. Understandably, the American was forbidden to ever bring such an anti-social plant into the household again.
The deadly bean
Another Thai plant which is indirectly responsible for some rather unpleasant odours is the sa-taw, a bean that grows in the South. It looks like a broad bean but is also known as the "stinking bean" owing to its potential for prompting considerable flatulence among consumers.
Despite this reputation, culinary experts have a high regard for this bean and it regularly shows up in fancy restaurants eager to pounce on unsuspecting stomachs. Incidentally, it is probably not a good idea to consume durian and sa-taw on the same day. That is definitely asking for trouble.
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