In search of ponies: Barn smells become comforting

Sharna Johnson It was a wafting, almost ambient kind of odor. Sniff sniff sniff… “Urine… stale urine,” I identified, looking around and dismissing it, figuring there was a dirty baby diaper somewhere in the restaurant. The next time we ate at that restaurant weeks later, we were seated in the same booth. It was faint […]