Favorite smells and memories

1920s Vapo Rub ad, public domain

In the “The Winter Palace of Monarchs” section of her
book, A Natural History of the Senses, Diane
Ackerman relates a story about how, in the
eucalyptus groves of California, surrounded
by wintering monarch butterflies, she was reminded
of “Illinois in the 1950s. It was a school day; I was
tucked in bed, safe and cosseted, feeling my mother
massage my chest with Vicks VapoRub.”

I can’t go to restaurants, professional kitchens, good
markets, or home kitchens, without being reminded
of some smells of home. No matter what ingredients
are being used or sold, there’s a good chance we’ve
cooked with them at some point or another. Indian
food being cooked in ghee reminds me of the butter
chicken I make at home, and the more complex
spice aromas blooming with onion and fenugreek
make me think of my dad’s methi gosht recipe. My
mom loves the smell of fresh fenugreek cooking,
because when you eat it, it helps with some cold
symptoms, and she associates it with that relief. 

Four smoked bbq rubbed
 chickens in my kitchen

I love the smell of fresh, raw meat. Beef, pork,
and lamb all bring me back to when I was first
learning to do real cooking on our crappy
hardware store smoker, around the age of 14.
I followed my dad’s instructions to the letter,
learning how to butcher and prepare the
meat for smoking, for the first few years,
before I learned more about the processes
of smoking, and started consulting a
reference book. The smell of woodsmoke
will always make me think of coming inside
after a long day out with the smoker with
some prepared food, and some bound for
overnight cooking in the oven, eating dinner,
heading upstairs to shower, going to bed,
and waking up the next day still smelling
of woodsmoke, a badge for my service. 

Two beers, by me

Nowadays, my favorite smells relate
to my hobbies. A bucket of sawdust,
a bag full of dry, roasty malt, a handful
of resinous hops. These smells
inflame my passion for my crafts, and
reward my brain with endorphins when
I smell them. I want to brew the next
batch of beer, partly because I want to
smell that malt, those hops, that wort
boil, the active ferment, and the
finished product. The process of
brewing is an adventure for many
of the senses, particularly smell.
Smell is the only sense which you
can always use to observe your
process all the way through.
When it’s boiling or fermenting,
you can’t taste it. When it’s fermenting
or in the bottle, you can’t see it
(labels aside). You can rarely touch
beer, and the experience is usually
limited to cleaning
spills off the floor before they get
sticky. Fermentation makes little
sound, but you
can always smell every step
of the process.

P.S. I absolutely refuse to participate in a copyright system.