While standing in the dazzling fluorescence of the modern supermarket, one can spot an astounding array of culinary wonders: plump strawberries nestled in plastic cartons, waxy apples as crisp in September as in April and, on the refrigerated shelves in the back, a staggering assortment of cheeses. There’s crumbly, saline feta stored in squat disposable tubs; orange-tinged cheddar slices, ranging from mild to sharp, in slim plastic sleeves; and selection upon selection of uniformly grated and shredded varieties, each hermetically encased in crinkling, resealable bags.
The contemporary supermarket is, in many ways, a marvel of modern science fiction. Thanks to a sprawling global supply chain, refrigerated cargo ships, controlled-environment greenhouses and the introduction of artificial ripening techniques, American shoppers have gradually become untethered from the natural cycles of the earth.
