Smell can make me …

… stop in my tracks. There are so many smells that take me back to where I was, to a place back in the memory of my life.
I can still smell my mother’s soup, just the same as her mother’s soup, what I would give to figure out that recipe.
For awhile my brother and I had this thing about the desserts of our Sunday lunches and dinners at our grandparents. I explored and tried to recreate a few, they were a good try but not quite there. I know somewhere in amongst the spare room flotsam and jetsam is a recipe book that may just unfold a few of them, the apple sponge at least. Or is that memory of a recipe book from my other grandmother?
The shortbread cooking at this time of year, for Christmas, that smell makes me smile … it is an imagined memory knowing my mother made this recipe and my grandmother made this recipe. That makes my heart sing.

smell-and-memory

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This entry was posted in Beauty, Celebrations, Christmas, Cookbook, Cooking, Family, Life, Melbourne, Memories, Reflection, Summer, The things that make your heart sing ..., The things you smell ..., The things you taste .... Bookmark the permalink.

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