Ftrain, by Paul Ford

A new kind of grain for the morning--one that maintains its grainness when microwaved instead of turning into a Dickensian slurry. The cooking takes a few minutes longer, but still it is an age of miracles. Machines pick the stalks and split the wheat from the chaff; shake out the rodent feces; and disburse it into boxes, stacked at processing plants; from which emerge, like the radial lines in an old RKO placard, large trucks stacked with goods; and from them to the market; and from there to hands filing them onto shelves; and from there into the hands of my wife, and some sorting and tagging, and finally home in a small cart and processed by molecular rotation for four minutes. The Mumfordian megamachine in action. (I'm noting that many foods have nessnesses--chipness, grainness, riceness, and of course the supreme sensations, breadness and sweetness. And that cash lasts much, much longer in my wallet.)