The Aroma Beckons

Tonight I learned that chicken pot pie can actually act as a beacon of light luring my husband home. He has spent the last two days at the regional music festival leaving home at 5:30 a.m. and returning after 7 p.m. While working the festival as regional choir chair he has eaten cold fast food and wilted take-out salads (none of which, luckily, he had to pay for) over and over again. So this evening, when he called from the other side of Phoenix as he embarked on the hour and half drive home, he wondered if I had made anything for dinner. The answer was "Yes, chicken pot pie."

For some this answer might conjure up images of 50 cent, tiny frozen hockey pucks that have to bake in the oven before being somewhat edible, but not at our house. Here, chicken pot pie consists of sautéed fresh vegetables like yellow squash, garden-grown bell peppers, mushrooms, and baby yellow carrots, all well-seasoned with plenty of black pepper, garlic, and Italian herbs. Once the veggies are done, flour, milk, and broth create a lovely sauce that thickens while it simmers. All of this is then ladled into ramekins and topped with a square of pie crust before being baked until the filling bubbles around the edges of the golden brown pastry.

As you can imagine, the aroma of these lovely vegetables and creamy sauce fills the house, and apparently the mind of those who adore them. After polishing off a plate full, my husband informed me that all the way home - through the dark and the (uncharacteristically hard) rain - he could just smell the pot pies in the oven. He was not disappointed as his aching feet and tired brain were soothed by the homemade goodness of chicken pot pie.

Isn't that the way of things, though? There are some scents, sounds, and colors that conjure up comfort and safety for us. Some people feel that way about lasagna or vegetable soup simmering on the stove, while others dream of the aroma of baking bread or cinnamon tea. Some of our most powerful memories revolve around smells - freshly mown summer grass, baby powder clinging to a stuffed animal, the perfume a loved one always wears. I guess that's why just the thought of those pot pies in the oven was enough to bring my weary traveler safely home tonight.