If asked to name the smells we miss most, an anosmic Top 10 would be fairly predictable. It would include things like the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, or the cooking smells of food. Bacon in a frying pan was my nose’s favourite hors d’ouvre. Parents would likely bemoan an inability to smell their kids, […]Read More The Biggest Missing?
I owe many people an apology. For years I masticated in public – openly, with unseemly vigour. I failed to curb my behaviour, even when the venue or occasion most demanded. Were you with me in the Oyster Room at the Dorchester, maybe the Ivy in Covent Garden, perhaps The River Café in Fulham? As […]Read More Indecent behaviour: a confession
Occasionally, fleetingly, I cease being a bona fide anosmic. In November last year I left a meeting in central London during the rush hour. I love traipsing the fascinating streets of town, so eschewing the tube, I made for Marylebone station on foot. It was freezing – well below zero – but I was fully […]Read More Shattered: the silence of the lamb
The guy was on his feet as I entered the consulting room. Arms open, he ushered me towards an oversized desk. My medical policy had secured a meeting with an ENT specialist on London’s Harley Street. It was the early nineties. He was animated, beaming, like his polka dot bow tie. It must be good […]Read More An Enthusiastic Nose