Triggering a Heartwarming Memory by a Simple Smell
“Let’s count all these Christmas lights on the string, as it seems like the producers want to trick us and there are less than one hundred”, said my Granny, while we were waiting for the glazing on our gingerbreads to freeze, so we can finally eat them.
It was one of our activities on a Christmas day, while my grandmother and I made the most delicious Christmas cookies-gingerbreads.
In Russia we celebrate Christmas on the seventh of January after the New Year, due to the fact that the Julian Calendar is 13 days behind the Gregorian. The main celebration for many people in Russia is New Year, on the 31st of December, and they do not celebrate Christmas at all. But our family always does.
I was only five years old and my parents were going to have a big Christmas celebration and invite our family and friends. They had a lot of things to do, so they drove me to my Grandmother’s house until the evening celebration.
When we came to my Grandmother’s house I immediately saw how beautifully it was decorated. There was a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, and although it was small, its’ fresh smell was all around the house. Under the Christmas tree there were some presents and sweets for me. Many colorful tinsels on the walls and a string of lights also contributed to the Christmas mood.
The TV in my Grandmother’s house was off as she did not like it. Instead, she had a radio, which she never turned off. My Grandmother once told me that if thieves come and want to rob her house, they will hear voices, think that there are people here and just walk away.
In her kitchen everything was ready for our cooking session. The oven was started to heat and all the necessary ingredients for our gingerbreads: butter, berries, flour, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, powdered sugar, eggs were on the table. My Grandmother gave me a small apron and braid my hair. And although I hated when someone touched my hair, because of our cooking session, I let my Granny do whatever she wanted.
Then we started to cook. At first, my Grandmother melted the sugar. It was so charming for me to watch how small crystals transform into sweet liquid caramel. I wanted to do it too, but my Grandmother did not let me, as I could easily burn myself.
I was disappointed, and my Grandmother gave me an apple and said that I would have even more difficult and responsible task: to peel and to cut it. She even gave me a small knife. So, while I was occupied with my “difficult task” my Granny could melt the sugar freely.
Then she added some butter, two eggs, and flour to this caramel, and let me mix everything, as I loved it so much.
When I was finally ready with the apple I asked my Granny what should I do with it now. “Eat it, as the gingerbreads won’t be ready soon,” she answered. I did not understand her “trick” at that time, but now I do it with my little brother, if he distracts me from doing something important.
We sprinkled some cinnamon, the smell of which I loved immediately, and ginger, blended our “dough-to-be” and put it on the table. My Grandmother and I kneaded it and then rolled with a rolling pin.
Also, while cooking we talked a lot: I told my Granny about my presents, friends from the kindergarten. She listened very attentively and asked me questions.
Then my Grandmother brought a big bag of bakeware and we started to make figures of a boy, a girl, a Christmas tree, a star out of a shapeless dough, which was really exciting.
When we finally made five boys and girls, eight stars and hearts, we put them in the oven. But only for ten minutes. In these ten minutes we needed to make a glazing, to decorate our gingerbreads.
We mixed some powdered sugar, berries, eggs, butter, and put it in a pastry bag. I carefully decorated them, as I wanted to show my masterpiece to the whole family. Then we put our Christmas gingerbreads in the fridge for 40 minutes in order for the glazing to freeze.
In those 40 minutes my Grandmother and I cleaned the table, danced to the old Russian Christmas songs, from the non-stop radio, sang and counted the lights. My Granny said that she bought the new string of lights and on the box it was said that there are one hundred lights. However, for us it seemed that there were less. So, we counted them all and made sure that the manufacturer did not fool us.
When our Christmas cookies were finally ready, it was already dark outside, as in winter in Russia it is dark already at 3pm. My Granny poured some milk for us, I asked for a cup of hot chocolate, but my Granny said that it would be too much sugar and I won’t feel the taste of the gingerbreads. She was right. Not only the taste, but also the smell was amazing. I have remembered this cinnamon smell for the rest of my life.
Today, I am studying at the university and I do not go home so often. But I am always home for Christmas. When it’s the beginning of November or December and Christmas decorations appear on the streets, I start to feel this pleasant familiar smell of cinnamon, almost in every place that I go, whether it’s a café or a classroom. When I feel it, especially when I have some troubles in life, it reminds me that soon I will go home and meet all my family and friends and everything will be good again. Immediately after this, my mood goes up and I finish my semester at the university on a high note.
It is so fascinating, how a simple smell can trigger memories. You just smell cinnamon and then you have a vivid image of you, five years old, standing in the kitchen in your grandmother’s house, making Christmas gingerbreads and listening to the old songs.
When I come back home for Christmas my Grandmother and I still make these Christmas gingerbreads and have our heart-to-heart talks. We have this tradition for 16 years now, and it is almost never interrupted.
My Granny is always so happy to see me and my little brother. He does not bake gingerbreads with us, but he loves to eat them. My Granny appreciates that we still come to her house and spend time with her, not only for Christmas, actually. And we appreciate her.
