At least you can Taste and Smell 

I felt ‘fine’, no more poorly than I had been feeling for the past few weeks. Just yesterday my mum asked me, “When will this lingering cold of yours be gone?” I’d been conducting lateral flow tests every other day for about 12 days now. I was at the fag end of my stock of complementary home tests that I’d picked up from a Tesco parking lot in central Birmingham. “Hypochondriac”, “Paranoid”, “Anal”, I’d been called. 

Just then, I get a text which says a friend that I’d met a few days ago tested positive. “Here we go”, I thought. I swiftly pulled out a swab, ripped open the petri dish and placed it on my desk, and went in. Right nostril first, left second. I didn’t even feel the urge to sneeze, I was immune to the uncomfortable sensation by now. Four swirls, right, four swirls left. Ten swirls in the liquid-filled pipette. “Do these even work? It’s always been a single red line on C, I’m pretty sure I’ve had COVID.” Four drops into the petri-dish and patiently waited. Then it happened. One line, T. Another line, C. Stark, dark marks. “F***.”

Panic; But at least you can taste and smell.

”Isolate, isolate, isolate!”, “Everyone else must do a test!”, “Oh God, I’ve infected my elderly grandmother and immunocompromised father”, “I should never have gone out”, “So irresponsible, this was bound to have happened.”, “That fu****r. I told him I wanted to go home.”, “Who else have I seen these past few days?”, “Do I have everything I need for isolation?”,”Let me check my Google Calendar for any immediate in-person meetings I need to reschedule.” Inhale, exhale. I remind myself of the resolutions I made for the new year, five days ago. Stay calm, address each item patiently, one at a time.

They say Omicron is symptomatically milder –  just monitor, isolate, rest and hydrate; very few patients are reporting loss of taste and smell. “Luckily I have the infrastructure and all the care I need.” This is one of those times when I’m reminded not to take home and family for granted. Everyone else tested negative. 

Eat and Sleep. Taste and Smell. Repeat.

Day 0, Dinner.

A grilled vegetable sandwich generously stuffed with boiled potatoes, green bell peppers, tomatoes and grated cheese. Squashed between generously buttered whole wheat bread. My mom knows how to comfort me – this was a treat from across the street while growing up. I wish she had been more generous with the ketchup, it tasted so sweet. I always enjoy the contrast of a hot sandwich with cold tomato ketchup. 

Day 1, Morning Tea.

I always drink Earl Grey, with a dash of skimmed or oat milk. At home, my nanny boils water with lemongrass, my absolute favorite ingredient, and my tea bag goes straight in. It’s magical (well, for me at least), this dance between the East and the West, the flavours and aromas of Bergamot and Lemongrass making sweet love in my cup. Today, my mug tasted phenomenal, so aromatic, delicious, I wished it would last forever. I always felt the flavours of the same tea bag weren’t as profound at my 11th floor apartment, as opposed to when I sipped the same tea at my Nanny’s ground floor home. Today was different. YUM.

Day 1, Lunch.

There was nothing special about the fillets of crumb-fried tilapia fish or the potato patty tikkis I ate for lunch.

Day 1, Dinner.

The home-made sweet-corn and chicken soup was nothing to rave about. It’s been pretty flavourless in the past. At least I had my own real bowl – one of my props from IKEA – an upgrade from the disposable cutlery and crockery I’d been using since being infected. “But this disposable spoon is killing my vibe.” My mum prepared a beautiful stack of mung-bean noodles, topped with a miso broth, plump with chicken and mushrooms, topped with crunchy, spicy peanuts. I expected it to have more oomph.  “Must be the spoon.”

Losing Taste and Smell

Day 1, Me time.

A sucker for scented candles and flavoured lip balms and moisturizers of all kinds, I look forward to dim, candle-lit showers and self-care over weekends. But my new Indian Rose and Sweet Almond shower oil seemed extremely underwhelming. “Or have I lost my sense of smell?” Grabbed a generous squeeze of my mandarine et citrone hand cream. Sniffed hopefully, nothing. “Okay last one”, my go-to. Warm Vanilla Sugar ultra shea body cream. Always works. “Damn, nada.” I am experiencing anosmia.

Day 1, Midnight snack.

I’d resisted the temptation to rip open the bag of salted banana chips that my mum had so kindly set out for me. They’re usually super salty. I could taste nothing, they were nothing more than a slightly greasy, crunchy-chewy texture. Ageusia (loss of taste) it must be.

Written by Jashan Sippy for Taste 2022.

P.S. – If you’re in isolation again, you might enjoy this article I published last year about How to Stay Sane during a Pandemic.

P.P.S. – If this piece peaks your interest, or if you or someone you know has experienced something similar, or completely different while being infected with Covid-19, and would like to share it with the world, I invite you to participate in an upcoming international research project led by Food Design Nation. Taste 2022 in association with London-based food anthropologist Caroline Hobkinson, aims to find definitive answers on the impact of Covid-19 on taste and smell perception.

To participate and learn more about how you can be involved, contact cara@fooddesignnation.com