Word: aroma
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Gibraltar's main - and almost only -street is a delightful omnium-gatherum of the civilizations that have passed its way since Hercules rent Europe from Africa and made the Rock one of his Pillars. On the soft Mediterranean air, jasmine and mimosa mingle with the aroma of frying pescado and chips; from back alleys float shreds of flamenco music, tourist twist and the dogged strains of Methodist choir practice (Rock of Ages is a Gibraltarian favorite). Helmeted native bobbies impartially ogle vacationing English shopgirls, off-duty African belly dancers, and the Midwestern matrons among the 240,000 visitors...
...menu listed such delicacies as Saliva of the Arab Rivers (consomme), Pearls of Kuwait and Casablanca (potatoes), Baby Lambs of Nejd and Kairouan, and concluded with Jewels of Jericho (fruit), and Aroma of Yemen (coffee...
...used to help the farmers dig spuds in the autumn; about weddings and wakes and corpses that sat up in their shrouds. Yet the special charm of this book is that it manages to describe Irish peasant life without condescension or that peculiar quaintness which often produces a distinct aroma of poteen and formaldehyde. The book's other claim to fame is that (for reasons not even Fellow Irishman Frank O'Connor, who provides the introduction, can fully explain) it was banned by the government in 1943 as "in general tendency indecent." The ban has since been lifted...
ARTUR RUBINSTEIN, who celebrated his 75th birthday last month, is a great connoisseur of life. Even his recordings evoke the aroma of fine cigars, the company of good friends, a glass of old port at bedtime. VLADIMIR HOROWITZ, who has not played in public since 1953, is more inscrutable. His humor is shy, his pathos and his beliefs are strong. Yet the two share a comradely distinction: they are the last of the great romantic pianists, and like Spanish-American War veterans, they live in an age that prizes them without necessarily knowing the grandeur of their tradition...
...days a year, Pasadena. Calif., is a gentle, cultivated city populated by little old ladies who sit behind lace curtains and, according to legend, knit Volkswagens. But on New Year's Day. Pasadena is no place for the timid. Bass drums defile the dawn, and the aroma of American Beauty mingles with the perfume of nervous palomino. The Tournament of Roses parade is all about girls and beauty; the afternoon's football game is supposed to separate the men from the boys...