The challenge last time was finding a name for a souvenir of taste it comes “out of nowhere”.

Readers of this column are becoming more and more cunning. Michael Bohnen of Newton wrote: “You will get already chew of a dozen readers, I will therefore suggest lost taste,» French for “lost taste”.

Michael, your account was close. Nine readers sent in the already seen-derivative already chew: Tara Adyanthaya; Bobbie Carlton, of Lexington; Erin Hobin-Audet, of Melrose; Rob Kahn, of Danvers; Steven Kaminsky; Marc McGarry, of Newton; Clifford Otto, of Manchester, NH; Diane Tosca, of Taunton; and Dave Underhill, of Portsmouth, NH. (A note about accents, which not all correspondents included: On a computer keyboard or on your smartphone, hold down the letter key and the full range of possible diacritics will appear from which you can choose).

Don Hunton, of Acton, wrote: “French gives us already seen – “déjà vu” – for a strange feeling of having already seen something. Perhaps we could turn to this language again and use already tasted — ‘already tasted’ — for an unexpected memory of a taste. It’s a bit pompous, I guess, but there are lots of fun accents above the letters!

Louise Brady, of Orléans, and Phyllis Barrett, each proposed already food; Judy Anglin, of Dorchester, flavor of already; and Carol Evans, of Natick, already mmmm.

Cynthia Poor, of Roslindale, suggested mmmmmmemoryand Bob Smith, of Roslindale, delicious.

Naomi Angoff Chedd, of Brookline, said, “I’m calling these people memories. Like the first time I tasted a croissant. My parents dragged me, a sullen 10-year-old, and my brother through the streets of Paris, hoping we would soak up some culture. I don’t think we did. But after tasting my first croissant, my life changed for the better. All I wanted was more croissants. Just thinking about it is intoxicating and stirs not only the taste but the whole journey. Example Marcel Proust. »

As you wish, Naomi. Jack Tuttle of Hyde Park wrote: “To have a memory of a taste which comes unexpectedly is called a piece of memory.” He goes on to speculate: “This is probably happening in or near the part of the brain that triggered a sensory experiencea rush of memories, for the French writer Marcel Proust when, in his classic “In Search of Lost Time”, he enjoyed a madeleine dipped in tea.

Milda Contoyannis of Concord described her own Proustian experiences: “When I pass a bakery, I get a Mental perfume flashback, which evokes a memory of my mother’s divine cakes that she served when I was little. And Rob Moore, of North Falmouth, wrote: “Every time I entered my grandmother’s kitchen, I would have aromas appear and polter tastes. I think poltertastes (like poltergeists) can appear anywhere, even outside of our ancestors’ kitchens. Newton’s Ed De Vos may have had something like this in mind when he proposed umami, my darling.

Rosalie Kaufman, of Swampscott, wrote: “When I remember a taste I like, it whets my appetite and I can’t always get that meal right away. I call this situation a aperitif” – a word that also occurred to Judy Anglin of Dorchester.

Marc McGarry, of Newton, proposed quick snackand Harry Eisenberg, of Wayland, proposed nostalgiastromia.

Mary Rowe of Cambridge was one of the few readers who explicitly acknowledged the possibility that not all unsolicited food memories are positive, proposing “fantasy if it is in good taste and fantastic-ick if it tastes bad.

How delicious to have so many options to choose from! I’m going with Jack Tuttle piece of memory to earn bragging rights. What are we talking about East a bit like muscle memory, in that it comes from a part of us that we don’t usually associate with memory. Thanks, Jack!

Now I’m thinking: These days, the so-called holiday season starts in September, with Halloween-themed items popping up everywhere. Before Halloween is over, Thanksgiving is around the corner. Well before Thanksgiving Day, the Christmas trees, poinsettias, wreaths and string lights come out. The holiday season used to consist of five separate events, including Hanukkah and New Year’s, but it’s now a big blur. What could we call it?

Send me your ideas for this note to [email protected] by noon on Friday the 13th and kindly tell me where you live. Answers are subject to change. And keep in mind that meanings in word searches are always welcome.

Barbara Wallraff is a writer and editor in Cambridge. She writes The word shop on the substack.