Chapter 3 – The world’s best fish fingers
As Harry walked through the door he could hear his mum clattering pots and pans in the kitchen.
“Hello dear”, she called from the kitchen. She had smelled Harry’s feet before she had even heard the door close behind him – although they were not as potent as usual.
“Hello Mum”, he called through sitting down to do his homework – Who were Henry VIII’s wives and what happened to them?
“How was school?” came the voice from the kitchen.
“Not bad”
There was a crash and an “Ouch!” from the kitchen. Harry never had a ‘not bad’ day. It was always boring, lousy, rubbish or something similar. She peered suspiciously around the door rubbing her foot where the frying had just landed and was greeted by a small smile which she returned and went back to making the dinner.
Harry flicked the remote control for the television. Countdown. He didn’t like Countdown but he sometimes watched it when his grandparents visited. He enjoyed their visits because old people haven’t got a very good sense of smell. This meant that they only winced a little bit when they were in the same room as Harry’s feet. Usually peoples’ faces tended to curl up as if they were trying to touch the tip of their nose with their eyebrows which made them look rather like a boxer dog. But his grandparents were pretty cool. Sometimes his granddad took him swimming which Harry loved. He would always wear a clip on his nose because he said the water went up it when he put his head under. Harry had never even seen Granddad get his hair wet.
He changed the channel: the news - boring. A black and white film about two people in love – no chance. He settled for Can’t Cook, Won’t Cook as he thought the cartoons on BBC1 were for girls and he was too cool for them! He watched a pot full of interesting and exotic ingredients bubbling on the television and his mouth began to water.
“Hmm, dinner smells great,” said Harry’s dad walking through the door and putting down his brief case. He took a giant sniff, “Roast beef? Stroganoff? Chicken chasseur?” He smiled at Harry as mum emerged from the kitchen holding two plates.
“Fish fingers.” She said confused
* * * *
There was no denying it, they were the best fish fingers they had ever had. His mum insisted that there was nothing special about them but they smelled delicious.
Smell is a funny thing. If you hold your nose when you eat a cake or your school dinner it will taste very different. If you can’t see what you’re eating either, you might not even know what you’re eating even if it’s something you’ve eaten a million times before. 75% of what something tastes like depends on its smell. This means that what you taste depends on what you smell. If food smells gross, chances are, it will taste like that too. But if something smells fantastic, you can bet it will taste good too. Even fish fingers!
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