Once I was walking down the street in NW Portland a few years ago and I caught a whiff of something that reminded me of my Baby Strawberry Shortcake doll (the one that when you squeeze her she breathes strawberry-scented breath) that I had when I was young. And that evoked all sorts of happy childhood memories that brought tears to my eyes.
I cannot wear lotion that smells like food. Unless it's lemon verbena. All other food-smells do not belong on my body, they belong on their way to my tummy.
Anyway. Working where I work, I tend to smell a lot of things during the day: usually when I get out of my car in the morning, I can smell the sweet grass that grows around the parking lot and next to the log pond (mmmmmm). In the summertime, I smell a lot of disgusting hot mill-men when they come in to the office. I smell a lot of smoke during breaks, when the guys come out to their cars to chat and light up cigarettes. But one of the things I like best is the complex smells of the maintenance guys. (That sounds gross but bear with me.) I can pick out wood, motor oil, grease, and all sorts of other stuff right after they leave my little office. It's not always a nice combination, but sometimes it's interesting.