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QUESTION: Which smell instantly transports you back to your childhood—and do you love or hate it?
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the smell of orange push pops with the flinstones on the box. I remember eating these during summer time.
There are three smells that will remind me of my childhood. The smell of freshly baked sourdough bread, and the smell of fresh salami. Growing up in the old neighborhood, there
was a bakery known for its sourdough French bread, and next door was a salami factory.
The smell was wonderful, but it was offset be the not so wonderful smell of the slaughter-
house a couple of blocks away. It smelled like freshly cut meat with a hint of manure.
The smell of the library at school and fresh cut grass from playing little league!
Like: Fireplace smoke. Reminds me of fall / halloween and it getting dark earlier.
Don’t like: Pine Sol/Lysol/Bleach. Reminds me of convalescent homes where I went to visit elderly relatives.
Cheese pizza. It was part of school free lunch. And the school lunch lady made it better (but it was greasy) than all pizza restaurants.
Home fried chicken or home made lasagna, and a 2 stroke dirt bike with a mix of the old Blendzall – love it!
Blendzall yes that brings back memories of riding my husky cr400
The smell of roses. Reminds me of grandma’s house/yard.
There are a few, but #1 would be my Mom’s fresh Peach Pie.
She baked it in a 9 x 13 glass pan.
Before the end of the night, I would eat 1/3 of the pan by myself.
The smell of the gym in elementary school. Not particularly good or bad, but distinctive. Maybe more bad, actually. Yes, let’s go with bad. Bad. Most definitely memorable.
All basketball gyms… all the lacquer in the world can’t hide the sweat soaked into the wood or the odor that permeated every nook and cranny. I kinda liked that smell.
Smell of burnt propellant at the range brings me back.
And Coppertone suntanning lotion gets me too
though I can’t remember if they even sell it now.
call me crazy! I have held on to my Grandma’s old aluminum pots and pans, egg poachers and stove-top coffee pot. Not to use on any regular basis, although maybe once or twice a year, I enjoy giving myself permission to smell that sweet floral aroma of the aluminum when it gets hot. and I use it to heat water if the power is out for my electric water pot.
I think kitchens–way back…all used to smell like hot aluminum. 🙂 mmmmmmm.
In addition to the “thumbs up” & “thumbs down” I think we now need to add a “?”
Ok, one more “call me crazy” … The overwhelming smell of the very first rain — hitting the dirty street pavement. The very best of it only lasts a few minutes. I was in 2nd or 3rd grade when I figured out why rain in town smelled so much different than rain in the country. I really like both smells!
I know exactly the smell. I took a writing class in SF years ago and one of the questions was, “What do you smell like?”
I answered, “The smell of a raindrop just before it hits the pavement.” Amazing synchronicity.
Speaking of elementary school……..diesel exhaust from the school bus!!
Talcum Powder…. it takes me back to my diaper days.
Triggers fond memories of my binky… my rattle …. kicking back in my crib.
Smalls are surer than sounds or sights
To make the heart-strings crack.
They bring those awful voices o’ nights
That whisper “Old Man, Come Back”.
That must be why the big things pass
And the little things remain
Like the smell of the wattle ’round Lichtenberg
Riding in, in the rain.
The smell of the fuel we used to power Cox model cars and airplanes. My grandfather was really into it, and stepped up the fuel mix to 40% Nitro. Man those things would scoot.
The smell of the fuel and exhaust from model airplane engines was the same for me. I only fly electric RC now though.
Still love the scent of WD-40. The aroma of loosening metal parts in every garage in the 1970’s.
Fresh laundry and fresh baked goods are definitely up there.
Freshly mowed lawn…all the good stuff.
A little trivia about WD-40: It took the inventors 40 attempts before they perfected the
formula. The WD stands for water displacement.
Cigarettes, it’s bittersweet for me as my parents both smoked when I was growing up. I know I should hate it but I don’t, it’s somehow comforting and nostalgic even though I would never smoke myself.
The smell of my mother cooking apricot cobblers every July.
Play-Doh! Instant smell of creativity.
The smell of Hills Brothers Coffee just as you come out of the Yerba Buena Tunnel, heading into SF on the Bay Bridge. Sunday family outings in the big station wagon were usually to SF Haight-Ashbury to see the hippies, Golden Gate Park, etc. I still love the smell of coffee (but can’t stand the taste).
The smell of creosoted railroad ties along Port Chicago highway (Sun Terrace vicinity) in mid-1960 which were eventually replaced by BART Tracks. Hot days made the smell stronger.