The most potent smell in Thomas Pynchon’s new novel comes from joints, and not the kind found in butcher shops. That doesn’t mean it lacks gustatory fragrances, though. Pynchon has always served food in his fiction. “Inherent Vice,’’ set in Los Angeles doper culture in 1970, specializes in restaurants whose names are almost as memorable as their cuisine. There’s Man of La Muncha, “where the menudo got your nose running just looking at it,’’ or The Price of Wisdom, a health food place that serves Eggplant Wellington and “rhomboids of vivid green kale loaf.’’ More to Pynchon’s taste is Tex-Mecca. The house specialty is an enchilada, taco, burrito, tostada, tamale combo called El Atómico. Its menu listing “carried a footnote disclaiming legal responsibility.’’ Any bets they make a mean menudo there, too?