COVID-19 Chronicles: Grief, Camay and the Wailing Wall of Soap

Image of Rachel Krell ©Michelle Krell Kydd 

I built a small wall of soap in the lower section of my linen closet after my mother died in 2017. It started with a few three-packs and eventually became the Wailing Wall of soap. It got started after I overheard a conversation between my sister and my cousin regarding our mothers' hoarding habits.

My aunt collected boxes of classic Camay soap like they were bars of gold (the original pink "classic" bar is no longer in production, but available from international distributors online and on eBay). My mother, G-d rest her soul, collected cleaning products to support a housekeeping habit driven by obsessive-compulsive disorder. After she died I took up Camay hoarding. It made no sense.

The last conversation I had with my aunt was not a pleasant one. She had a knack for being mean-spirited and uncouth. I still remember how she upset my mother at my father’s funeral. My mother grew increasingly teary as my aunt badgered her about headstone placement on my father's grave. Mom was too grief-stricken to respond.

I told my aunt that headstone placement was a family issue and that we’d take care of it. “I am family," she insisted, her tone more autocratic than loving. “You are not immediate family," I said. My eyes shifted towards my mother as my aunt went silent and walked away. Years later she and my mother are separated by one grave in the same cemetery, reconciled by death.

I collected classic Camay soap after my mother died because it's one of three beautifully scented soaps that I remember from childhood; Camay, Jergens and Cashmere Bouquet. It wasn't until the COVID-19 pandemic that I understood why I built a Wailing Wall of soap after my mother died. The comforting scent of Camay helped me integrate stages of grief I couldn't wash away.

Bars of soap, from humble bargain brands, expensive luxury soaps and everything in between prevent COVID-19 infection via hand-washing. I have three bars of Camay left. I want Camay to remain an olfactory madeleine of comfort. I don't want to confuse the smell of Camay with the dislocating grief of the pandemic, which deserves its own madeleine.

Note:
A madeleine is a sense object that triggers a memory. The term is derived from a passage in In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust. The transporting memory is triggered by the taste of a madeleine pastry dipped in lime blossom tea.

Recommended reading: You are Proust: The Case for Developing Your Olfactory Mind.

"When a Trusted Brand Disappears," by Ricki Morrell unpacks nostalgia for Camay in the November 20, 2010 edition of The New York Times. You can find the article here. Login or subscription is required.

You are Proust: The Case for Developing Your Olfactory Mind

The proverbial Proustian moment isn’t limited to the nostalgic reveries of a madeleine loving protagonist. Flashes of autobiographical memory inspired by taste and smell reflect a rich life-affirming aspect of human experience. These moments make for worshipful excerpts in literature because the sense of smell and its handmaiden flavor are not easy to describe. Real life encounters with Proustian moments are not only possible, they are more likely to occur if you take the time to develop your olfactory mind. We can't keep talking about Proust; he's dead, the madeleine he ate is lost to an ever-changing ecosystem, and the pastry described in In Search of Lost Time may have been a piece of dry toast. 

Autobiographical memory inspired by taste and smell reflects an extended pattern of experience that builds on itself. It is shares the characteristics of replicating patterns of self-similarity one finds in fractal images; parts of the whole appear the same from near or far (consider time as a continuum and you get the picture). Flashbacks inspired by taste and smell enter a person's consciousness when something in the present triggers a foundational memory. In this space, past and present merge altering time as we know it. This produces the closest approximation to time travel we can experience without pharmacopoeia or strict adherence to a spiritual lifestyle.

Memories inspired by taste and smell are exceedingly powerful when they reference childhood experience. Dr. Maria Larsson found that children ages 8-10 form foundational olfactory impressions that last a lifetime. I've observed these types of olfactory memories being made in classroom settings at 826Michigan where I teach a series of Smell and Tell classes designed to improve expository writing skills. Discovery shapes this period of childhood development as it is a time when kids delight in self awareness, as well as differentiation from parents and younger siblings. They are less influenced by peer pressure than their tween counterparts, who are more concerned with fitting in and defining themselves by group affiliation. 

Smell is the passport to one's "self" enriched by a grounded sense of identity against the canvas of sensory experience. This is beautifully articulated by Jane Miller in the essay "Midnights." Miller focuses on the transporting effect of encountering the "new" with an emphasis on cultivating a state of presence that is integral to the transformative experience associated with travel:

"Wherever the traveler goes in a quest for beauty and knowledge, if the place responds like a peacock displaying its iridescence, we have the stuff legends are made of. Imagery explodes and creates a derangement of the senses. Those who have already gone and returned no longer remember it that way, or remember the place fondly or inexactly. But during the ritual visit itself, the unfamiliar and disoriented prevail, requiring that we notice things in their entirety, which we must do to "get anywhere" in the confrontation with the new. To see a thing entire is to see its other-worldliness, to see the stripes, fangs and the sausage-like intestines, working through the analogical possibilities to experience it ("it" is, by now, a monstrous thing).

Having given it our full attention, a meditation, what follows is often revelatory. The spirit of a place, a person, or a thing exchanges freely with the stranger's spirit..."                                                              Miller, Jane. "Midnights." Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: Women Writers Explore their Favorite Fairy Tales, edited by Kate Bernheimer, 236, New York, NY: Anchor Books, 2002.

Can Proustian moments be nurtured early in life? Cultivating an olfactory mind when receptivity is high provides an excellent springboard for this type of thinking. Children experience a multitude of “new” things because they are open to new experiences by virtue of their years. That feeds their sense of wonder, but there is a caveat; attachment to likes and dislikes must be surmounted to make room for an evaluative point of view that allows a person to see something in its entirety. There are no wrong answers when it comes to how a person experiences smell and taste. Evaluation is shaped by experience, culture, and emotion which are unique to each individual. The relief and "ah-ha" moment understanding provides to children and adults in a classroom setting encourages creativity and is subtly profound.

Proustian moments can be nurtured in adulthood despite the fact that smell loss is part of the aging process. Scientists have discovered that parts of the brain related to olfaction in perfumers are more highly developed; even in those who are 40+, (a time when the sense of smell starts to decline as part of the aging cycle). If you are light years from childhood there is no time like the present to exercise your olfactory mind. You may be surrounded by opportunities for a Proustian moment and not even know it. Glass Petal Smoke suggests that you follow these simple tips to get you started on your journey, with or without the mythical madeleine: 

• Experience something new every day and keep a written list of what you discover.
• Explore local foodways and seek out new flavors.
• Make a conscious effort to shift environments during the day as a variety of smellscapes outside your window/cubicle shape the context of sensory experience and provide reference points for new memories.
• Travel to places you have never visited before and indulge all of your senses.
• Smell everything you can; flowers, fruits, the ingredients you use to cook/bake, etc.
• Buy a good book about essential oils and curate a collection of favorites that you can smell repeatedly over time. 
• Explore mindfulness practice in your spiritual tradition and get in touch with being present.

Notes:
The Glass Petal Smoke "Sensory Questionnaire" is a tool you can use to get inside your olfactory mind. Learn how here. 

Explore ways that you can define a smell on this WikiHow.

*How important is childhood when it comes to smell and autobiographical memory?  Read "Smell Your Way Back to Childhood," by Dr. Maria Larsson and find out. Dr. Johan Willander’s "Autobiographical Odor Memory" digs deep on the subject across ages.

"Memories" illustration by Greg Abbott. Used with permission. You can visit Greg Abbott's online shop. Very cool stuff here. 

Rino is a little girl who eats dishes from around the world. Her parents have nurtured her olfactory mind beyond the madeleine, though the picture of her eating one is quite charming. Rino's YouTube channel was featured in a story in The Huffington Post. Image rights revert back to Rino and her family.

We lose our sense of smell as we age. It begins at age 40 and can increase dramatically once your reach 65. Developing your olfactory mind by practicing smell calisthenics is a good idea if you plan on enjoying your "golden" years.

Proust Revisited: Madeleines and Lime Blossom Tea

The only thing that came between the narrator of Remembrance of Things Past and his madeleine was lime blossom tea. It seeped into buttery crevices, engorging the sponge-like texture of the petite scalloped tea cake before exploding into precious pearls of memory on the tongue. Finding a great madeleine recipe can be as challenging as sourcing artisanal lime blossom tea, but the effort is worthwhile. There's no substitute for indulging in a freshly baked madeleine dipped in a cup of genuine Carpentras tilleul. Glass Petal Smoke shares a personal madeleine recipe and a reliable tea source so Proustian ecstasy can be yours.

Lime blossom, also known as linden blossom or tilleul in French, is a source of tea and monofloral honey. The best tilleul comes from the village of Carpentras in Provence and has become difficult to procure due to a decline in production. Cheap and poor quality tilleul produced in China and Europe continues to threaten French cultivation and harvest, and has resulted in substandard lime blossom tisanes in the marketplace. (A poor example is Pompadour brand with notes of astringent hay and a flat, urine-like bouquet.) Harney and Sons Teas carry genuine Carpentras tilleul which is conveniently packaged in bags or loose in tins. The tea has woody notes of chamomile, honey and a nascent white floral note that is distinctly reminiscent of spring.

The sensation of drinking hot tea is universal. One feels the infusion gliding down the throat, warming the body in a shroud of comfort. Imagine the sensation of Proust’s tilleul against this description of eating a madeleine in Swann's Way, the first book in the seven-volume set of Remembrance of Things Past:

“I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid, and the crumbs with it, touched my palate than a shudder ran through my whole body, and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changes that were taking place. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, but individual, detached, with no suggestion of its origin.”

One taste of a fresh madeleine dipped in a cup of Carpentras tilleul and communion with the narrator of Swann's Way is imminent. Orange Blossom Madeleines have a gentle touch of floralcy that complements a variety of black teas so feel free to experiment with beauties like Darjeeling and Keemun.

Orange Blossom Madeleines
Recipe by Michelle Krell Kydd
Yield: 24

Ingredients:
· 2 ½ cups Arrowhead Mills Whole Grain Organic Pastry Flour
· ½ tsp. baking powder
· ½ tsp. sea salt
· ½ tsp. Ceylon “true” cinnamon (milder than cassia cinnamon, very important)
· 1 ½ tbsp. Cortas® Orange Blossom Water
· 5 threads of saffron bled in one teaspoon of warm water
· 4 large organic eggs (room temperature)
· 4 large organic egg yolks (room temperature)
· 1 ½ cups of organic cane sugar
· 2 tsp. vanilla extract
· Grated zest of 1 large organic orange
· 2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter (melted and cooled to room temperature)

Instructions:
· Divide oven racks into thirds.
· Using an oven thermometer to ensure proper temperature, preheat oven to 375 degrees.
· Lightly brush two madeleine pans with melted butter or grapeseed oil.
· Sift flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon in a small bowl. Set aside.
· In a large bowl mix whole eggs, egg yolks and sugar (thoroughly by hand or with a mixer set on medium speed). Incorporate vanilla, orange blossom water and saffron.
· Gently fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture.
· Add melted butter and incorporate.
· Using a tablespoon fill each mold until three-quarters full.
· Set one tray on each rack and bake for 15 minutes, gently reversing trays from top to bottom and front to back after 7 ½ minutes to ensure even baking. When done, madeleines will be golden brown and spring back when you touch them.
· Allow cookies to cool on a wire rack. Any remaining batter can be baked using re-prepped cookie trays.
· Serve madeleines immediately or store in an airtight container and consume within three days.

Notes:

The Spice House in Chicago carries a wonderful Ceylon cinnamon that is rich in citrus tones. Cassia cinnamon, which is commonly sold in supermarkets across the U.S., is much stronger than the Ceylon variety called for in the Orange Blossom Madeleines recipe. 

Kelly Gibson wrote "On the Trail of Tilleul" in the Spring 2009 edition of Gastronomica. You can read it for free on JSTOR if you sign up for a free account.

Photo of linden blossom by Ariane Cauderlier of Giverny News.