It weaves through supermarkets and streets, leads me to food stalls in narrow alleys, and fills my nose with delights as I wander through the day.
Occasionally I might come across something that I can't stand the smell of, and I'll back away from them. Stinky doufu (beancurd) is one such thing that comes to mind, and it's no reflection on Chinese cuisine - I can't stand the smell of the Western equivalent, blue cheese, either.
The scent of coffee or chocolate always grabs my attention, as does that of frying bacon. The smell of food draws me like a moth to a candle. It's led me to meet great people, and try so many different things.
Some of my best friends have been met over the smell of a meal a few tables away, which drew me over to ask about it - the most notable being when I was in a fish restaurant. The smell of a whole fish broiling over charcoal, surrounded by chillies and onions, was simply irresistible, and I couldn't help asking if I could try a mouthful.
So it came as a surprise to me that other people might not like the smell of food, or that it might lead to friction between neighbors.
I love to bake, and over the years in China, I've taught myself to knock out a pretty decent loaf. Sometimes I bake sticky cinnamon rolls, or apple buns, and the spice scent wafts out of the window. Other times, I cook a pizza, and the herbs and garlic sprinkled over the cheese gently drifts downstairs, causing a spate of requests for that.
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