There seems to
be a debate on how many senses the human body has; however, two senses are
readily agreed upon and strictly connected: Smell and Taste.
For a long
time, humans have known that these two senses are intricately intertwined. It’s
why, grossly, after getting sick, to eliminate the wretched smell from your
nostrils, you have to brush your teeth. It’s why some people say that they can
taste snow before a single flake ever falls. Also, for the reverse of my first
example, it’s what makes food so much more than just fueling ourselves to keep
us alive, but an entire experience able to be enjoyed.
Or to be
avoided. One unfortunate family dinner at my Grandparent’s went from a homemade
Shepherd’s Pie to a quick run down to the local pizza place. As the food was
served, before anyone even tasted the meal, the odor emanating from our plates
removed any volition to actually eat what sat in front of us. Some ingredient
(still debated till this day) had obviously soured without my grandmother’s
knowledge. Most of my family never ventured to try the pie, I did (it was
hypoglycemic act of desperation, I needed food). It tasted wonderful; I
experienced no adverse side effects from whatever had gone rotten, but once
everyone else’s reactions were made public (and loudly) I immediately stopped
my consumption.
Smell and
taste can hardly be separated.
This
connection baffles me. I understand it. It makes perfect sense. Yet it still
confounds me.
I often hear,
“Wow Hannah, that smells amazing!” Or “Hannah, that smell is making me want to
cook something.” When my parents order pizza (which I cannot eat) or go out for
dinner, I experiment with my mine, having the kitchen to myself. My mom tells
me all the time during these situations that the smell is almost making her
feel guilty for not cooking something of her own.
This is where
my confusion comes from. I hear comments like these, I say thank you, then
politely offer them a bite. Their reaction every time “Oh no. But thanks.”
Their response is either coupled with a laugh or stated quite matter-of-factly
like they would never eat something like that and why was I even
asking? If smell and taste are so mingled within our functioning, how can they
be so willing to smell my food, but not taste it? Isn’t smelling half of
tasting?
Maybe there’s
a block in most people’s brains. And maybe my wacko-ness somehow broke down
that blockage. Maybe that’s an indicator I’m meant to be in the food world.
Most foodie people seem to have broken through that block.
Three specific
instances of this (even though this happens just about every time I cook) are
when I cook my Veggie and Quinoa Stir-Fry, when I cooked my first ever
portabella mushroom burger, and my recently created black bean soup.
My Veggie stir-fry
doesn’t have much to create a smell other than the sautéing vegetables
themselves. I only put a little black pepper in the quinoa and nothing else
really. The sauce is what creates the aroma: peanut butter and horseradish
mustard. The sauce sounds strange, but it’s a simple way to add tons of flavor
to a stir fry. My mother always tells me “Wow, that smells great! I wish I was
cooking something that smelled and looked as good as that!”
Will she taste
it?
Of course not.
A few weeks
ago I tried my first “burger” made from a portabella mushroom cap. I slathered
some peanut butter and horseradish mustard (hadn’t had this combo in a while)
on the bread. On top of the mushroom, I lavishly layered some onions and
pineapple, sautéed in worcestershire sauce. While I was cooking the onions,
pineapple, and mushroom, my dad walked over and exclaimed, “I have got to tell
you, Hannah, that really does smell amazing!” Accompanied by his classic laugh
and facial expression that goes along with statements he’s surprised to be
making.
Would he try
it?
Of course not.
Okay, I’ll
admit, the latest dish I’ve concocted looked nasty. Like not terribly nasty,
but it sure wasn’t the prettiest dish I’ve ever made. Black bean soup. With
peanut butter. Separately, they both look appetizing and taste good. Together,
they’re still tasty, absolutely creamy. However, when they get together any
chance of physical attraction disappears.
The soup was
spiced well though; it had cumin, curry, cinnamon, and red pepper (my favorite
mix). I added diced peaches, onions, celery, and peanut butter. It was a result
of another late night need to cook. I actually made it a second time and kept
it in the fridge for dinners. I have yet to eat this warm, but I did do quite a
bit of “taste-testing.”
When I give
the ingredient list people admit that it’s got good stuff in it, they’re
attracted to the spices, the peanut butter throws them a little bit, they admit
(while I’m cooking it) that obviously it smells good, but will they taste it?
Of course not.
Smell without
taste.
Maybe it’s our sight that messes things up, or just stepping out of
ones comfort zone. Either way, smelling without actually tasting…Just doesn’t
seem fun to me.
