The Marketplace: No Nose Knows

The truism is that the eye can lie, but the nose knows. Cool pools in the middle of the desert turn out to be heat vapor or over-the-horizon reflections. A bartender can suddenly split into identical twins. But drop a blindfolded man into the middle of a place that whiffs of tanned calfskin, saddle soap and cordovan polish. Is he in a shoe store? Not necessarily.

It is all a matter of progress. These days, when everything is vacuum-packed, cellophane-wrapped or synthetically concocted, nothing smells the way it used to. The coffee or cinnamon buns that stay freshest don't smell...

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