Mise en place

Mise en place: everything in its place. It's common kitchen wisdom, but I'm finding more and more that this short idiom applies a bit more broadly than simply bread—though, like the saying, bread is anything but simple in its social, cultural, and culinary environs.

Most recently, I've been finding that smells belong in their places. I know, it seems silly, but after spending my days being overwhelmed by fake apples, autumn woods, water lilies, midsummer nights, and the like, I'm taken aback by how stunning those real scents are in their proper places. When I'm walking near the creek, I can't help but bask in the interplay of grass, trees, and stream that reach me. Likewise, the smell of a freshly cut hayfield on my family's farm is so beautiful to me—and it reminds me of decades of tradition and a quieter way of life that still has sparks left to it. In wax form, however, these sensations lose their power: their place and their true beginnings are gone, and all that remains is a disembodied, manufactured part. Though the piece in itself may be nice enough, it is nothing to the true, full beauty of the connected whole. Of course, one could argue that the candle simply recalls those memories to me anytime I like. But it seems that our culture does that too often. We have a few memorable experiences, and we try to give our life more variety or “excitement” by injecting factory-made “beach” smells into our bathrooms and bedrooms.

Instead, I'll take a life that's filled with embodied memories. Tonight, I remembered the pleasure of a real scent again when my roommate made applesauce. While I can smell apples anytime I like at work, the smell takes on such deeper meaning when paired with homemade applesauce. While the wax only comes with a glass jar, this particular applesauce comes with so much: it was made with apples from a tree that I grew up climbing in my parents' backyard, in an apple press given to Erin by her grandmother. It also comes with wonderful, new memories of taste-testing and of being energized by the many beauties of home-making.

I'll take a plain-smelling house over a paraffin-filled one any day, I think. And I'll more than make up the space by spending my time and energy baking bread, drinking tea while reading a book, or enjoying a wonderfully-cooked meal with friends. Those are the memories and aromas I cherish, and they beat a beach vacation in a bathroom hands-down.