Don’t worry—it wasn’t my car. But here’s what happened:

Perhaps it’s my midwestern roots, but to me, pie is the quintessential American road trip food. So when I set out from Vancouver, on Day 1 of my west coast road trip, I decided that my first stop, as soon as I crossed the U.S. border, should be for a slice of pie.

On a tip from Anna Roth, author of the road food guide West Coast Road Eats, I detoured off I-5 into Washington’s rural Skagit Valley south of Bellingham, where the flat, green cow pastures stretch out far behind the double wides.

Destination: the Farm to Market Bakery in the one-street town of Bow.

Imagine my dismay when I pulled up in front of the little wooden house that normally houses the bakery and found it full of a crew busily sawing and hammering—but not baking.

I was so disappointed, in fact, as I stood out front, that I actually exclaimed—to no one in particular—“You’re closed! How can you be closed?!?”

Which prompted a jeans-clad gentleman who seemed deep in business on his cell phone to pause and explain, “A car ran into the shop. We’re not exactly doing spring cleaning here…”

Sigh.

With stomach rumbling, I began wandering down the street, hoping for some alternate sweet sustenance, when I saw the “Open” sign at the Breadfarm. How can such a tiny town have not one, but two, bakeries? (And there’s even a gourmet shop, too, called “Slough Food!”)

Alas, the Breadfarm doesn’t make pie, but inside this wonderfully yeasty-smelling shop, they do make a vegetable focaccia, loaded with olives, onions, and cheese.

It wasn’t pie. But it was delicious.

About the “Hit the Road Hungry” Road Trip
I’m doing a solo road trip from Vancouver to Los Angeles, working with a company called Hit The Road that pairs people who want to take road trips with people who need their cars moved. I’m delivering a spiffy forest green 1998 Honda Civic for its owners who are moving from British Columbia to southern California. I’ve got five days to make the trip—and eat my way down the west coast. I hope you’ll follow along as I “Hit the Road Hungry!”

About WanderFood Wednesday
If you’re new to WanderFood Wednesday, here’s the scoop. Every Wednesday, you can share a photo or post about own food adventures as part of the WanderFood Wednesday blog carnival. Here’s all you need to do:

1. Post a food photo on your site.


2. Add a brief description about the photo—or a longer food-focused post—and include a link to WanderFood Wednesday.


3. Add your blog name and post title to the “Mr. Linky” form below, with a link directly to your post (not to your main blog). That’s it!

Tasty Travels!

Carolyn

“Here, smell this,” my husband Alan said the other night when he came home holding a paper bag.

I looked at him skeptically as he put the sack to my nose.

“I brought you a surprise,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s food.”

I do love surprises—especially when they involve eating—but I sniffed suspiciously at the bag.

It smelled….Ripe. Fruity. Floral.

And a little bit like yesterday’s socks.

I reached into the bag and pulled out a shiny, golden bun sprinkled with sesame seeds.

“It’s from the Vietnamese bakery,” Alan explained.

“It’s a durian-coconut bun.”

If you’ve ever come within 20 feet of a ripe durian, an oversized thorny fruit native to Southeast Asia, you have to wonder what possessed the first person to try to eat it.

Not only is its greenish-brown exterior covered with pointy spikes—like a child’s drawing of a hedgehog—but it possesses an undeniably pungent aroma.

Because of its smell, durian has been famously forbidden in the Singapore subway, in hotels, and in many public places.

I first sampled durian years ago in Kuala Lumpur. The flesh is creamy, almost custard-like, and the fruit tastes tropical and softly sweet—far gentler than the over-ripe, musky smell it exudes.

I’ve seen it raw and in ice cream, but it never occurred to me that you could bake with it.

I bit into the durian-coconut bun that Alan brought home, a pillowy-soft bread filled with a mash of buttery, sugary coconut.

It tasted quite like a Chinese “cocktail” bun, except for its flowery, fruity notes.

And its more prominent smell.

Which was not a benefit.

I do like surprises, though. Even if they’re slightly stinky.

**********

Our durian-coconut buns came from Tung Hing Bakery (1198 Kingsway, Vancouver), which makes stellar bahn mi (Vietnamese sandwiches), in addition to its pastries. The bakery also has several locations in the Toronto area, including one in East Chinatown (674 Gerrard St. East, Toronto).

The Washington Post recently published two durian articles by writer Julie Wan: “What it takes for the durian to smell of success” and “How to pick and eat durian fruit.”

National Geographic weighs in with a video about this “Funky Smelling Fruit.”

And for all the news that’s fit to print, about durian anyway, check out All About Durian, a fledgling durian blog.

Have you seen, or sampled, durian-coconut buns in Asia? Please leave a comment and tell us about how they tasted – or smelled!

And if you’re a food blogger, join the fun! Here’s all you have to do to link your post to WanderFood Wednesday.

Photo credits:
Durian-coconut buns and bun interior ©Carolyn B. Heller
Whole durian by YIM Hafiz (flickr)
Forbidden durian by James Cridland (flickr)

Once I got home, I set about trying to recreate the buns that had captured my fancy on the streets of Beijing, Dandong, and Shenyang. With much trial and error, I adapted the following recipe from a cookbook I had brought back from China, with the cheerful title, “Welcome to the Flour Family.”

If you try it, please leave a comment and let us know how your chive buns turn out. I hope it will fuel your own chive bun obsession!

Pan-fried Chive Buns

Your chive buns may not look as lovely as these, but don’t worry. Asian food expert Andrea Nguyen took this photo of buns she made (they’re not filled with chives, but the process is similar). Check out her blog, Viet World Kitchen, for more Asian food ideas and for tips on frying buns.

Enjoy!