Malaysia’s 2 Most Infamous Smells That… Sells: Introducing Durian & Petai

Let’s dig into two of Malaysia’s most infamous smells that still sell. Introducing durian and petai.

Picture a country resplendent with culture, communities, and traditions, where the uninitiated may never quite grasp what locals already know by heart. Here, before the wok blackens and oil erupts into a crackle, a distinctively heavy scent settles into the kitchen corner. Familiarly dour—almost too intense for some, but to us? Irresistible. Indeed, some customs are simply second nature, nowhere more apparent than in Malaysia’s notoriously pungent delicacies, and the divisive aromas that come with them. 

Buckle up, maybe pinch your nostrils, and prepare your palate, because we’re about to peel back the lid on Malaysia’s smelliest culinary delicacies. They’re pungent, peculiar, yet surprisingly delicious—here are the two infamous smells we have in Malaysia that somehow still sell.

Durian

With a taste likened to heaven and a smell condemned as hell, the king of fruits wears its spiked crown well. Formidable and unapologetically polarising, durian isn’t one to pull its punches—a reminder to never underestimate the power packed beneath its thorned shell.

With durian season in full swing, you’re more likely to have tasted it than to have never seen—or smelt—it. Besides, while durian is deeply woven into Malaysian culture, the reputation it carries is far from flattering. Truth be told, “Have you tried durian before?” has long stopped being a mere question, as seasoned locals know it’s already a dare in disguise.

Somewhere between curiosity and challenge lies the infamy of durian, it’s the moment the unaware decide whether to worship the king or to fear it forever.

Attraction & armour

As you’ve likely gathered by now, durians are as notorious for their thorned exterior as they are for their intense odour. Interestingly, the smell isn’t designed to repel, but to entice. By attracting animals to feed on the fruit, its seeds are later dispersed elsewhere for new trees to flourish. The prickly rind, however, is no mere exterior. Imagine it as the durian’s armour, shielding the fruit from early consumption and opportunistic thieves, namely pulp-loving sun bears.

Durian: from species to sweets

That aside, Southeast Asia is a landscape of durian cultivars. In Malaysia alone, names like Black Thorn and Musang King sit comfortably at the top of the throne. As one would expect, each variety has its own prized profile—Black Thorn, rarer and more exclusive, and Musang King, the heavyweight of the bunch, where its indulgence comes with a bittersweet nuance. Fair to say, it’s precisely these distinct identities that continue to draw their devoted cult following.

With durian already a sweet delicacy on its own, it naturally drops its way into desserts across the city. From seasonal drinks to soft serves, inventive takes on durian are only a few clicks away to find, take Bijan’s Chocolate Durian Cake—lush chocolate cake, nestling within are durian and chocolate ganache; dangerously indulgent. The King of Fruits? A crown, well earned.

Petai

Durian might be the king, but petai doesn’t play by the same rules—it makes its own. Petai has never exactly been easy to explain—especially to outsiders—though perhaps it’s that unapologetic personality the kampung crowd has taken a liking to. Petai, also often known as stink beans, is a pretty popular vegetable in Southeast Asia. Its scent profile? There’s no easing into it—imagine rotten eggs, some sulfur in the mix, and a skunky… something, and that’s petai for you.

Twisted or straight up, Malaysia?

Like beaded ribbons, mature petai hang in long, neatly strung strips, while the younger ones still coil into playful tendrils. Curiously, the one unchanged part of the petai experience is that these odiferous beans tend to stick with you. From tree to pee, sometimes even into your sweat—petai really is the gift that keeps on giving.

Petai has long threaded itself through Malaysia’s cultural and culinary fabric. Perhaps it has something to do with its native roots across Southeast Asian rainforests, which includes Malaysia, and its peculiar profile—not just what it bleeds, but also what it brings as part of the package. Some say the intensity is addictive, while others swear by its crunchy snap—a “just-picked” pop between the teeth.

Smelly, sure. But not just for show

Besides packing a nutritious punch in every little bean, stink beans are far more restorative than you’d think. Few—myself included—would guess that petai may help reduce stroke risk, as its extract is thought to lower blood pressure and cholesterol levels. Beyond its high nutritional valuewith minerals like calcium, iron, and vitamin C, the pungent pods even carry tryptophan, an amino acid that supports better sleep as well as mood.

Culturally—or culinarily—petai rarely soloes, which is where the sambal petai steps into the shot. There’s no aroma like a sambal petai that’s just left the stove, fresh, full-flavoured, and just brilliantly piquant. With the glossy spilt oil, the first whiff to hit is the belacan (shrimp paste) and sambal (chilli paste), as aromatics slowly sweat over medium-low heat—building a depth only stink beans can hold their own against. In they go. Then comes the question: prawns, squid, or crisp anchovies? Love it or loathe it, it’s not everyone’s favourite, but petai is nobody’s forgettable.

And that’s the smell of it

In the grand scheme of stink and splendour, other strong contenders are still rising through the ranks, but few can truly rival Malaysia’s most notorious duo. It’s clear in how these two reign over their own corner of the culinary world. Still growing out of long-held family food traditions, petai is beloved for its versatile character, rooted in everyday familiarity. Durian, the king of fruits, sits in singular defiance, revered as a delicacy on its own—and perhaps that alone should say plenty about Malaysia’s most notorious flavours.

Opening image: 女子 正真