There was homemade bread for breakfast, and homemade soups at lunch. She was serious about nutrition, however, so she laced them with nuts and raisins, and probably sweetened them with a tiny sliver of maple sugar, because a cousin in Vermont used to send us five-pound blocks of it. I can relate to Proust and his madeleines, the taste of which transported him immediately to his childhood. To this day, when I smell fresh bread, I am instantly back in the home of my childhood, and the sound of opera rings in my head. Those five senses that give us information about the world around us are truly inter-connected and incredibly potent.
Scents can trigger memories of tastes or sights.
A sight like an early morning fog can recall to me the sound of a foghorn in the bay, even though I no longer live near water. Holding my grandmother's silver napkin ring in my hands brings to my mind the beloved sound of her voice and laughter. While it's possible for our sense memories to trigger pleasure-giving endorphins in our brains, they can also activate whatever is the opposite of endorphins. It seems to me, however, that the senses are never more powerful than when they deliver to us a message of delight by association. Sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell can lever us into a comfort zone all our own, a sudden feeling of well being, often without our ever recognizing what has put us there.