My husband and I are racing through Penn Station to catch a subway to my brother’s house in Brooklyn. We’re expected for dinner in 15 minutes—now an impossible deadline. Near the LIRR entrance my husband suddenly stops. “I want to go to Cinnabon!” he shouts. “What?!” I call back to him. “We’re going to be eating as soon as we get to my brother’s…” But then it hits me, or rather my nose. We’re within scent distance of the Cinnabon kiosk and its aromatic temptation. Will this compulsion force us to eat dessert first? If we’re strong willed, maybe not. But if we succumb, are we really to blame? Or are we just victims of manipulation by scent marketing?