"Durian: Fruit or Menace? Stay tuned!"
This could have been a television Breaking News teaser a couple of weeks ago, when a library in San Jose, California, was evacuated because of a noxious smell. Fearing a natural gas leak, authorities called 911. The police and fire departments dispatched crews, swept the building, and found fruit.
It turned out a patron was eating durian, the football-shaped fruit with a noxious smell, in the library. It is perfectly fine to eat in the library, as it is common to eat in line at the bank, in the elevator, while pumping gas.
But one person's fruit could be another person's natural gas leak. In this case, all that happened was that the library in San Jose was evacuated and searched. The cost could be measured in worry and no small amount of expense for all the public safety equipment and personnel.
The larger cost is to our senses. Food is just another thing out there, clamoring for our attention with 24 hours of Breaking News. The mall smells like cinnamon buns and something frying. When I pick up my car at the repair shop, at 10 in the morning, the clerk is eating a burger and fries. I've just had breakfast but now I'm hungry again.
Multiply this effect all over America, and it's not a big jump to obesity and eating disorders.
In rigid olden times, families sat down for three meals a day, or at least dinner on weeknights, at specified hours and places. In my parents' house it looked like this:
3:30 p.m. After-school snack
4 p.m. Kitchen closed
6:30 p.m. Dinner
7 p.m. Do dishes. Kitchen closed
When certain guests came over, we brought appetizers into the living room and even ate at the dining room table. In our bedrooms? Never. Grocery stores sold the raw materials to make a meal at home, not hot meals to go. Restaurants were for special occasions. There wasn't a lot of room for individual expression, but the day had structure and families had control.
I don't long for those days. I love being able to buy tamales on the street, walk and talk while holding a hot cup of coffee, taste several growers' apples before deciding which ones to buy.
But do we have to eat everywhere, constantly? Does every child's group activity require a snack chairperson, every art show a wine-and-cheese table, lest we go without food for an hour?
We are sharing airspace when we eat in public places and office cubicles. From French fries to durian, aromas waft. As noted in the Food Lover's Companion: "To all but its Southeast Asian fans, the durian has a nauseating smell-a truth attested to by the fact that it's been outlawed by many airlines."
