Austin Notes: Calling Marie Antoinette

The gourmet supermarket has installed a pair of flour–milling machines. The clear plastic vat is filled with perfect brown grains of wheat—single varietal, of course. You press a button and out of the chute slides a dune of clean white flour you have ground all by yourself.

In an upscale strip mall in a neighborhood of doctors and high–tech entrepreneurs, a store advertises “Rustic Furniture.”