Follow your nose...

It’s mind-boggling how strongly a smell can trigger memory and emotion. My husband J finds the smell of Yves Saint Laurent’s ‘Rive Gauche’ irresistible (probably the fragrance of his first love, though he gallantly won’t admit it). For me, its powdery undertones conjure up memories of my adored grandmother – exquisitely elegant, but aged.

Last weekend, in our favourite restaurant, J positively swooned as a glitzy couple sashayed to the table beside ours: it was a suave Italian man, with a Noodle on his arm. As we left, J insisted on asking the Noodle what fragrance she was wearing (oh the cliché!). She fluttered her eyes, stabbed me with a triumphant look and confirmed that it was ‘Rive Gauche’. Her suave suitor and I were reduced to aroma-less gooseberries. So the next day, I succumbed and bought a bottle. I figure that it’s my new secret weapon - if I spritz and J swoons, I might be able to get my way more often…

I’ve never been loyal to a perfume. I’m a perfume polygamist: I’ll happily two-time and can honestly say I have never felt satisfied. As far as I’m concerned, the only aromas with any real substance emanate from food. And there’s nothing like the waft of a freshly baked caramelised onion tart to make me really reminisce.

Last week, I mentioned the food props that we used for the Christmas brochure shoot and I promised to divulge where I go to indulge. When I started my business in 2005, my office in Fulham had the good fortune of being a skip from Megan’s Deli (www.megansdeli.com). This is where my love affair with this luscious tart began.

With Megan’s homemade food dished out in a rustic yet chic setting, the local sandwich shop never got a look in. Summer lunch hours were spent in Megan’s charming ‘secret garden’, feasting on their assortment of salads bursting with goodies: like cous cous with apricot, pomegranate and herbs, or lentils with feta and chilli! Winter sustenance was provided by hearty soups and oozing wheat-free chocolate brownies. As hard as I worked to build up my business, Megan’s ensured I was never running on empty.

We moved offices last year, but I get back to Megan’s for nostalgic nosh whenever I can.
And as I organised the brochure shoot, I called Selina, Megan’s daughter, to ask if they could deliver some food to be photographed. “It’s not going to look perfect, though!” she warned. But it was all the cracks and crumbles of homemade food that I was hoping for!

They whipped up a creamy strawberry cheesecake, a dozen cracking mince pies, delicate smoked salmon canapés, and for old times’ sake, the tart de resistance. Perhaps in the not too distant future, we might be able to access aromas and perfumes through our computers at a click of a button. But until you try it yourself you’ll have to believe me: the heavenly sweet smell of the gooey and crisp tart had us all swooning. Megan’s, I promise: I will always be faithful to you…

…although I have recently been introduced to a rather delightful dessert-making establishment that I can’t stop thinking about. Next week, I’ll tell all…

Scarlett Willow