Few smells transport me so quickly, so easily, back home as the smell of onions frying in ghee. It’s a very particular sort of smell, landing somewhere between sweet and bitter and it fills the room in an instant, clinging onto every surface.
For my mum, every good meal starts with fried onions - a culinary habit that travelled with her from India. I’m still amazed at how she can build a vast array of flavour profiles all from the same base: glistening, slightly caramelised, fried onions.
That smell has becoming my lighthouse beacon now, it’s the surest sign I know of that I’m home, that a peaceful evening is on the way and that somehow, really, everything will be OK. Because after a meal in my parents' kitchen with good wine, welcoming me into the incredible atmosphere of peace and grace they steward; it does always feel that way. It’s amazing really how that smell, that potent note of a cooked onion can start to encourage my shoulders to sink again, my stress to recede, my cluttered thoughts to retreat.