Chicago has always been self-consciously aware of its aroma.
Blame it on the fact that the city takes its name from the "shikaakwa," a native, onion-scented wild leek. The odor of that particular skunk weed no longer permeates the area, but others have come to mark Chicago's intangible smellscape.
— From The city of big odors, an exploration of Chicago's "urban bouquet", with thanks to Allison for the link.
There was nothing remarkable about the cold I caught. But a few weeks after I was otherwise back to feeling normal, my sense of smell and taste hadn't returned. I went to my doctor, and he said I had a sinus infection, prescribed antibiotics, and told me not to worry. That was three years ago.
— Elizabeth Zierah in The miseries of losing one's sense of smell at Slate, with thanks to Ruth for the link.
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