Chapter 9: My issues with…eating without sniffing first

When we smell food, we are more likely to eat it. But new findings suggest eating food also impacts our sense of smell, which could affect our decision for what we eat next.

I think I’ve made the majority of my decisions in life based on my nose, going all the way back to kindergarten, when my mother packed me “brown-bag” lunches, until this very morning, when I smelled my beloved yogourt (no, it wasn’t expired). Doesn’t matter how many times I open that Costco-sized tub — I still have to sniff it before actually eating it.

The decisions my nose makes for me are not 100% foolproof, but the majority of the time, my nose dictates exactly what I will eat or will not eat. 

I’m a “sniffer” — meaning no matter what dish is served, even if I ordered it, no matter what a waiter brings to the table, no matter how many times people may offer me “a bite,” no matter what meal my parents have made…I always have to sniff the food first.

And said decisions made by my nose have nothing to do with how appetizing the food in front of me looks. I just need a whiff of it before I decide what happens next. Everyone in my family knows this about me. Whenever we gather around the table and my mother hands over my plate, she asks, “Would you like this [avocado toast]?”  

Everyone else in my family grabs the avocado toast, and then they stare at me, fighting not to roll their eyes and waiting until the inevitable escapes my mouth. “Can I smell it first?” They then watch with abated breath to see if the avocado toast passes my sniff test. And this sniff test applies to pizza, cake, and even apples.

It only takes a nano-second to smell any food offered to me — and yes, I do it at friends’ houses and anywhere else I’m invited to dinner. I don’t think it’s bad manners exactly, since I’m so skilled at sniffing, that nobody (who didn’t know me before reading this) would ever notice.

You would be surprised at how many people secretly sniff their food before it goes into their mouth. There are at least two others I know who religiously do sniff testing; the first is my best friend, who proudly announces, “I’m going to smell it first,” which is kind of fun! We’re both sniff testers, so if one of us doesn’t like the scent we just inhaled, we’ll usually just trade dishes. The other sniffer is my nine-year-old son, who, I imagine, picked up this habit because he's witnessed my 21,235 sniff tests.

Or maybe, unlike his blond hair and blue eyes, it’s because THIS is the one and only trait I passed on to him.

This habit is much more common than you may think. Weird because I really have no reason or explanation as to why I need to do this before I put anything in my mouth, especially if I already know I’m going to love it.

Before you blame it on past trauma, no, I haven’t ever had terrible food poisoning that would hashtag trigger me when I see certain foods. I’ve accepted that it is simply a ritual, like a security dog sniffing for cocaine in airports but, in my case, it’s a plate of hummus (or literally anything that is put in front of me).

Personally, I think it’s perfectly allowable for must-sniff-before-I-try-it people like me. You’re out there, right? 

Like I said, me being a sniffer of all things before I will or will not eat something has been a lifelong habit, one that I think is way less offensive than, let’s say, every single song my kids play (“Motherf**ker…b*tch…” Catch my drift?) and cutting your toenails in front of me. (Please don’t do it!)

I'm sure there is a medical term for this habit I, and others, I’m sure, suffer from this habit. It’d be nice to know because it can be awkward if you're caught sniffing a tiered plate of different cookies for more than two seconds. But I'm too scared  lazy to look at WebMD.

Sniffing food should be acceptable as modern-day etiquette, as long as it’s not accompanied by an obvious discourteous gesture, like throwing your paper plate across the yard, or verbalizing your discontent in any way, however “subtle” you think you might be. Like, don’t ever say, “Glutton-free plant-based lasagna, you say? Hmm…thanks, but no, thanks.”

Want a trick? I’ve learned to say, “I’m stuffed, but if you’re overflowing with leftovers, I’ll take some!” And then I pass the leftovers that did not pass my sniff test on to someone who’d appreciate them. Or I'll just lie and say, “I’m actually really allergic to mushrooms. But that looks delicious!” 

Is secretly sniffing, unbeknownst to others, ruder than asking for more pepper/salt before even tasting the soup? What about lowing on hot food? Is it ruder than using the wrong utensil when you’re at a fancy event, surrounded by four spoons, four knives, four forks, and the blood of your first child? Is it ruder than my dad ordering his steak “well-done,” even after 25 years of trying to explain to him why this is considered blasphemy to chefs? But my dad doesn’t give AF, so why should I give AF about my sniff testing nose, which dictates what I do and do not eat?

Was I just born with the need to take a quick whiff of butter tarts or oatmeal cookies? 

As one person shared, “Oatmeal cookies with raisons instead of chocolate chips is the reason I have trust issues!” Um, could this be THE reason I have spent my life smelling everything I eat? Maybe. 

Maybe if someone could guarantee that every food item I put in my mouth is just like sniffing one of the most glorious smells ever, like the oh-so-wonderful aroma of coffee grounds before making a pot. That smell is so. Fucking. Good. Now that I think about it…I don’t smell my coffee before drinking it. 

But I’m mostly talking about solid foods, not beverages — I don't think I've ever sniffed a diet coke. Wonderful! Now all I’m thinking about is sniffing beverages, which will surely lead my parents and friends to wonder if I think they’re trying to poison me.

But again, l’m talking about a drive-bye whiff or sniff. I’m also NOT encouraging you to stick your nose into your food, nor lifting your plate right up to your nose. (I mean, have you no etiquette?)

I enjoyed a popsicle with my son the other night after he had to get some teeth polled. We both sniffed our banana popsicles in sync, even though we both know perfectly well what a banana popsicles smells like. What were we thinking? That after sniffing our banana-flavoured popsicles, they were going to taste like a grape?

I guess it will remain a mystery why a sniff test is a must for me. But at least I kind of know what it feels like to be a dog, which I’m not sure is such a good thing. But it is fun to annoy every single family dinner with multiple, “Can I smell that first?”