Garlic on my Fingers and the Smell of the Kitchen
“You’ll know the answer to this question,” an unmarried male coworker said to me recently. “How do you get the smell of onion or garlic off your hands?”
The question smacked — make that smelled — of sexism, but I answered as best I could: Lemon, baking soda, salt, tomato sauce, stainless steel, alcohol-based cleanser. I gave him a variety of options.
But later that day, after peeling and chopping garlic, I sniffed my fingers. Why would I want to eliminate a fragrance that smells good. To me, anyway.
Isn’t olfactory sensation all part of the process of preparing and eating food?
I say it is. And with rare exceptions — the smell of deep frying or the smell of lobster in an unvented kitchen in winter, for example — it is welcome, at least in my kitchen.
While I have purchased my share of odor-masking and odor-eliminating candles, soaps, rubs, cleansers and potpourris, I now prefer a kitchen to smell like a kitchen.
“You can always tell a Swedish kitchen,” Grandma Annie used to say. “The coffee pot is always on and it’s always fresh.”
I thought about it and it was true. Friends and neighbors, Anna and Lillian were Swedish women married to French men. Their kitchens were redolent of freshly-perked coffee — most welcome on cold, winter afternoons.
And they almost always had fresh-from-the-oven coffee cake or rolls, too. Their kitchens were scrupulously clean and tidy, but oh, they smelled so good.
Some people’s kitchens had a certain piquant, almost sausage-y smell. I grew to like those, too.
In Annie’s kitchen, the aromas of vanilla and almond predominated, perhaps because she baked so much. When I want to evoke Annie’s kitchen today, all I do is open a bottle of almond extract. It is a powerful agent of time travel for me.
My mother’s kitchen smelled of cardamom and apples when I was a child. When I use cardamom, I am three years old again and playing in my mother’s sunny yellow kitchen.
More often than not, my own kitchen is filled with the odor of onions — and yes, some times garlic.
While I realize the smell of garlic might offend some people, I no longer worry about it on my hands after I’ve made sausage rustica or ratatouille.
There are, the way I see it, far too many other things to fuss about these days.
What does your kitchen smell like? What aromas bring you back to childhood or another time in your life?
The question smacked — make that smelled — of sexism, but I answered as best I could: Lemon, baking soda, salt, tomato sauce, stainless steel, alcohol-based cleanser. I gave him a variety of options.
But later that day, after peeling and chopping garlic, I sniffed my fingers. Why would I want to eliminate a fragrance that smells good. To me, anyway.
Isn’t olfactory sensation all part of the process of preparing and eating food?
I say it is. And with rare exceptions — the smell of deep frying or the smell of lobster in an unvented kitchen in winter, for example — it is welcome, at least in my kitchen.
While I have purchased my share of odor-masking and odor-eliminating candles, soaps, rubs, cleansers and potpourris, I now prefer a kitchen to smell like a kitchen.
“You can always tell a Swedish kitchen,” Grandma Annie used to say. “The coffee pot is always on and it’s always fresh.”
I thought about it and it was true. Friends and neighbors, Anna and Lillian were Swedish women married to French men. Their kitchens were redolent of freshly-perked coffee — most welcome on cold, winter afternoons.
And they almost always had fresh-from-the-oven coffee cake or rolls, too. Their kitchens were scrupulously clean and tidy, but oh, they smelled so good.
Some people’s kitchens had a certain piquant, almost sausage-y smell. I grew to like those, too.
In Annie’s kitchen, the aromas of vanilla and almond predominated, perhaps because she baked so much. When I want to evoke Annie’s kitchen today, all I do is open a bottle of almond extract. It is a powerful agent of time travel for me.
My mother’s kitchen smelled of cardamom and apples when I was a child. When I use cardamom, I am three years old again and playing in my mother’s sunny yellow kitchen.
More often than not, my own kitchen is filled with the odor of onions — and yes, some times garlic.
While I realize the smell of garlic might offend some people, I no longer worry about it on my hands after I’ve made sausage rustica or ratatouille.
There are, the way I see it, far too many other things to fuss about these days.
What does your kitchen smell like? What aromas bring you back to childhood or another time in your life?
Comments
One of my favorite blogs posted about this dish and site... thought you might want to check it out.
http://www.bonjourlafrance.net/french-food/french-recipes/french-dishes/tarte_flambee_flammekueche.htm
So when I first married, I would make that frozen bread, so that my home would smell like freshly baked bread.
My kitchen is mostly neutral smelling until Marion or I goes to work at the stove. Then it's going to smell like something wonderful. But we do have a corner cabinet with a lazy susan where our many, many spices live. A St. Louis friend visiting us opened it once and said that it smelled like the spice shop at Soulard Farmers Market in St. Louis.
We're on the same page, Eileen. I find myself holding my hand sup to my nose whenever I've cooked with garlic.
Linda, there is nothing that compares with the aroma of baking bread. Nothing. Thanks for the link and tip.
Terry B, I've never tried to remove the smell. But I'll pass that along to my coworker who will probably read this anyhow. (Hi Kurt!)
Sandi, I sure agree with you on tomatoes! Especially in summer. I've always been tempted to buy one of those little bottles of Demeter fragrances called "Tomato." Wonder if they have fried chicken — another good one?
Ronnie Ann, you are a woman after my own heart. Yes, garlic is sexy. And I love borscht on a cold day — more on that in an upcoming post.
The smell of a cake being baked takes me back to the past. My mom used to bake cakes a lot, I used to take slices of fresh cakes to school as a snack every day. Oh, boy, it's like a trip down memory lane to me. Maybe that's why I love baking so much, it reminds me of my mom.
A smell that's around my kitchen a lot is the smell of chopped onions being cooked in olive oil - my husband says it's the best food smell in the world. I cook a lot with onions and olive oil.
May I just say what an interesting post this is?? :D
I noticed a shift in preferences since I started taking cooking more seriously. I used to dislike kitchen smells, but now I love them.
Cakes baking! Coffee and anise! Perhaps - just maybe — a kitchen smell is a little like the kitchen's DNA. So then, every kitchen smell is totally unique and remember the smells unleash unqiue memories.
My favorite dinner time smell has got to be pizza! Homemade, of course, (tho I have never turned down take-out, then I take my alloted 2 (maybe 3) slices, and slather them with minced garlic! No one can stand the smell of me, unless they have done the same!!!
Her's a kitchen smell I like: The musty smell of a cottage kitchen, especially one near the beach. Not food related, but still a nice scent.
I thought that coming home to a house filled with the smell of garlic sautéing in olive oil (all my husband's recipes start this way) was the most heavenly thing imaginable. It sure beat coming into a cold dark house and trying to breathe life into it. This was walking into a house already filled with life.
Today my entire house was filled with the scent of garlic, oregano, basil, etc. I've had my meatballs, sausage and spaghetti sauce simmering since this morning. Delightful smell.
Whenever I smell fresh baked apple pies, I'm about 5 years old again and in my French grandmother's kitchen.
Last year, my husband had to spend two weeks in Virginia for his job. I hated coming home!
But your must be wonderful today!