Krestovich had grown rich through food science - the careful manipulation of flavors that had helped give modern fast food its edge. His greatest triumph had been the Subway sandwich. Vladimir was responsible for the overwhelming odors that drew in the unsuspecting passersby. The sensory manipulation was so powerful that a certain subset of the population was unable to pass a Subway outlet without ordering something. Every time someone ate a sandwich Vladimir earned a nickel.
Yet Krestovich had never tasted that which he had created. He started his day with a carefully blended regimen of carbohydrates, fiber, amino acids and fat. He cared nothing for variety. His assistant Marjorie prepared forty pounds worth of gruel at a time, enough to last Krestovich weeks. He used a repurposed cryofreezer in the back of his laboratory to store the thick paste. In all matters of nutrition and diet he deferred to his colleagues - it was easier for him not to dwell on such things.
Vladimir had even ceased to enjoy his sole dietary indulgence, the 4.5 ounces of vodka he allowed himself each week. It was a holdover from the days he spent drinking fine wine in restaurants and vineyards across the globe. Lately the gentle buzz had only served to remind him of things that once were - the 1970 Chateau Latour or the meal in Provence.
At times he missed those who shared his devotion to food - those he had betrayed. The years had caused his memories to fade somewhat. These were only fleeting memories now; Vladimir no longer had a sense of taste.
***
The laboratory accident that led to the destruction of Vladimir’s taste buds had been the culmination of months of research. He had been experimenting on a process of tasteicular enhancement. The goal was to triple the number of taste buds on the human tongue. It had been a pioneering use of stem cell research.
Experiments in laboratory animals had been promising. Rats exposed to the serum, developed palates so refined that the vermin starved unless served choice cuts of meat. Dogs treated with the drug refused to eat leftovers.
For Krestovich the temptation had been overpowering. On a cold day in December, as he was preparing to celebrate his birthday, with a twenty-five course tasting menu at Per Se, he injected the cells. Vladimir could not have anticipated the effects the drug would have on a human brain. In the span of twenty minutes he experienced tastes that defied belief. But during the fourth course, his taste buds - reeling from over-stimulation - ceased to function. He had not tasted since.
more to come