Our kitchen usually smells good. We take out the trash twice a week, which helps a lot. I also tend to have a pot of something or other going on the stove, or something baking, or bread rising in the dough machine. Even the coffee pot adds its own delicious aroma to the house. We cook in a lot and it’s always from scratch, or nearly so, which means we get to enjoy not only the yumminess of the end product, but also the anticipation brought on by the process.
Thanksgiving time is no different. Well, the smells are largely the same; there are just a lot more of them. There’s giblet broth bubbling on the back burner right now, very reminiscent of chicken stock. I made some rice earlier for corn and wild rice casserole which also left a nice brothy bouquet in the air. Tomorrow will be even more odoriferous, with the sweet and yeasty pungence of breads and pies wafting about. And Thursday! Who can top the savory scent of a succulent turkey roasting the afternoon long?
I don’t need smellovision, Mr. Lagasse. I just breathe deeply and often, here in my own home.