Mort RosenblumOctober 16, 2009 06:34Updated May 30, 2010 12:10
PARIS, France — During the 1970s, I dropped in on Monsieur Turpin, a storied Parisian greengrocer and pheasant plucker. His walrus mustache bristled with indignation.
“Those people,” he said, nodding toward two young Americans chewing on baguettes as they passed. “They are walking while they eat.”
Alas, poor Turpin. Today, even the Louvre Museum has a food court for ambulatory grazing. Soon it will include those ubiquitous golden arches. A Big Mona with fries?