i. My mother knocks it against the counter and splits it cleanly in half. Yellow yolk slides smoothly into porcelain. She whisks the mixture, tilting the bowl. This way more air goes in, she shows me, arm moving swiftly back and forth. Yellow spills into the clear. The fork clacks rhythmically against the bowl while the oil in the pan sizzles on the stove. There is the loud, incessant noise of the ventilation hood, the rising smoke, the hazy heat, …
Tag: Home
“The Smells of Home” * Memoir * Kate Chamberlin
I remember a beautiful old Victorian home in Wellsville that yowled “Cats!” even as you stepped onto the wide front porch. Here in Walworth, one of my friend’s home smells of candles and paint; another like the farm; and another actually has no smell at all. As I walk through my home, I can smell which room I’m passing – especially on a hot, humid day. You’ve heard of being led by the nose? Well, the nose knows. In the …