Although I am a tremendous lover of cheese, I can't escape the fact that many cheeses smell like the products of decomposition. This is because they are, of course, having been acted upon and transformed by bristling bacteria until they reached their current, stable, nontoxic but spoiled state. The ancients were very wise when they discovered that people could avoid the perils of eating rotten food by eating food that was spoiled in a controlled manner.

Susan and I called a local eatery and ordered a pizza last night, something we almost never do. She'd been under the weather all weekend, and we were in the mood for some instant culinary gratification. I didn't mind playing the nursemaid, but after a weekend spent mostly at home the pickins were getting slim, and my ability to roust edible foodstuffs from two leeks and a packet of bouillon cubes was fraying.

After fifteen minutes or so, we strolled down the block to pick up our order. It was enormous, so impressive that we were compelled to open it on the rain-wet street corner to behold its mightiness. As appetizing as the pizza was to my empty stomach, I couldn't help but notice that the mozzarella gave it a vaguely farty aroma. We frequently make our own pizzas, but usually opt for the white pizza with feta cheese and various other Mediterranean treats. We've become so dedicated to this particular set of toppings that it's come to be known as "status quo pizza." But there's no getting around the fact that feta cheese smells just a bit like puke. You don't necessarily realize it when you're hungry, but it can sneak up on you when you're nice and full full and get a solid whiff.

The next afternoon I lunched on a leftover slice of the monster pizza and then went back to work on the computer. From time to time I kept detecting an odd, troubling scent. I wondered if the cat was experiencing unusual flatulence, or (truly a bad sign) I was without even being aware of it. Suddenly I realized that the smell was the oily breeze of farty mozzarella cheese that had steeped into my hands.

Susan says her father's breath smelled like yogurt when he was on his deathbed. She couldn't eat the stuff for years.