Get ready for a juicy tale of a small town's big business! Raub, Malaysia, is cashing in on China's love for the 'Hermès of durians'.
As you drive through Raub, a charming town nestled in Malaysia, you'll notice a unique signature scent wafting through the air. It's the unmistakable aroma of durians, a prickly fruit that has become the town's economic powerhouse. From the mountain roads to the murals adorning the walls, Raub proudly proclaims its status as the home of the Musang King durian.
Once a gold mining town, Raub has transformed its economy with a new golden hue. The Musang King, a buttery and bittersweet variety, has earned a reputation as the 'Hermès of durians' among Chinese consumers, who value it as highly as the prestigious French fashion house.
Raub is part of a larger global durian rush, driven by China's insatiable demand. In 2024, China imported a staggering $7 billion worth of durians, a three-fold increase from 2020, with over 90% of the world's durian exports now headed there. It's a business opportunity that Chee Seng Wong, factory manager of Fresco Green, an exporter in Raub, can't ignore: "Even if only 2% of Chinese people want to buy durians, that's more than enough business."
Wong recalls how farmers in the 1990s, during an economic downturn, cut down durian trees to make way for oil palms, the country's main cash crop. But now, the trend has reversed: "They're chopping oil palms to grow durians again."
China's appetite for durians is a fascinating phenomenon. Despite its controversial aroma, likened to cabbage, sulphur, and sewers, the durian has become a beloved exotic gift and a status symbol in China. It's featured in unique culinary creations, from durian chicken hotpot to durian pizza, and has gained a dedicated fanbase.
Thailand and Vietnam are the top suppliers to China, but Malaysia is quickly catching up with its premium varieties like the Musang King. While the average durian in Southeast Asia starts at less than $2, luxe versions like the Musang King can cost anywhere from $14 to $100, depending on quality and the season's harvest.
Xu Xin, a 33-year-old durian seller from northeastern China, sums up the allure: "Once I ate Malaysian durian, my first thought was, 'Wow, this is delicious. I have to find a way to bring it to China.'"
The confidence of durian exporters from southern China is palpable. They believe the market potential is huge, with many people yet to try this unique fruit. And it's easy to see why: large Chinese tour groups have been flocking to rural Malaysia, eager to indulge in the durian experience.
Locals in Raub carefully arrange durian platters, from the mildest to the richest, to showcase the fruit's diverse flavors. Fresh notes of caramel, custard, and an almost alcoholic bitterness of the Musang King are said to emerge with each bite, a testament to the pedantry that has earned Malaysian durians a special place on the Chinese table.
Raub's durian success stories are abundant. Farmers like Lu Yuee Thing, known as 'Uncle Thing' in town, have become millionaires thanks to their durian farms. In his family business, sons help with transportation while daughters manage the finances.
"Durian has contributed a lot to the economy here," Uncle Thing says with quiet pride. He points out the Japanese pickup trucks he now uses to transport his fruit, a far cry from the rickety jeeps of the past.
Farming is hard work, and at 72, Uncle Thing wakes up at dawn every day to collect ripened durians from his hilly farm. He's suffered injuries from falling durians, but he knows the effort is worth it.
"It looks like farmers make easy money, but it's not easy," he says.
Once harvested, durians are sorted into baskets, from Grade A to Grade C, with the handsomest Grade AA durians destined for China.
China's love for durians has even become a diplomatic tool. Beijing has signed numerous trade agreements, celebrating bilateral ties with major producers and budding suppliers alike. The China-Laos Railway, for instance, transports over 2,000 tonnes of fruit daily, mostly Thai durians.
But this rush to meet China's demand has its challenges. Food safety concerns arose last year when Chinese authorities found carcinogenic chemical dyes in Thai durians, believed to enhance their yellow color. In Vietnam, many coffee farmers switched to durians, driving up global coffee prices affected by severe weather.
And in Raub, a turf war has emerged. Authorities have felled thousands of durian trees planted on state land, claiming illegality. Farmers argue they've used the land for decades without issue and now face eviction or the need to pay a lease.
Meanwhile, China's island province of Hainan is making strides. After years of trial and error, its 2025 durian harvest is expected to reach 2,000 tonnes. China's long-term goal is self-sufficiency in food, and durian diplomacy is just one step towards that.
As Hainan's homegrown durians gain traction, the Musang King's reign may face challenges. Hainan's first home-grown durians, while celebrated, accounted for less than 1% of China's consumption in 2023. Uncle Thing remains unconcerned for now: "That is not something we can worry about. All we can do is take care of our farms and boost yields."
But as China pursues 'durian freedom,' the Musang King's throne may become shakier. Hainan's success could impact Raub's market, and the competition between Malaysian and Hainan durians is a story yet to be fully written.
What do you think? Will Hainan's durians ever match the fame of the Musang King? Share your thoughts in the comments!
