When I was growing up in Singapore, pandan—a perennial grass with an intoxicating aroma—was everywhere. Its subtle perfume suffused so many of my favorite foods: birthday cakes, the cassava cookies my grandma and I made for Chinese New Year, and the chicken simmered in a vibrant tomato and chile sauce that I got hooked on back in my teens. Still, I didn't realize how much I cherished it until I moved to London for college. That's when, living on my own for the first time, I discovered that cooking with pandan would instantly assuage any feeling of homesickness; my heart would lighten as my kitchen filled with its familiar smell of flowers, grass, popcorn, and hay. Even today in Singapore, simply walking past a pandan plant on a sweltering summer day and breathing in its sun-triggered scent is the shortest road to bliss I know.