I wish I could photograph scents--its smells amazing in here right now. I am making quince paste, and the quartered fruit is simmering in water to soften on the stove, wafting intoxicatingly through the whole suite. Oh its good.
Really though, the smells of cooking are so intrinsic to what you are making, so part of the final dish, that you should be able to capture them. Not to bottle as a perfume (love roasting garlic, but really dont want to smell like it) per se, but to hold so that it is not lost with the seeing and tasting. The smell is the first point of enrapture, breathing in the joys to come. It truly is beautiful.
And I do, perhaps strangely, wonder what a smell looks like. It might look like the memory it is invoking, or mimic the weather or color toned mood of the day or yourself, as we often cook inspired by what we see or feel. It could be new though, the beginning of an association, many colors or only one, something solid or something more whimsical.
The quince in here right now--it is blue streams of silk, like sashes on one of those old fashioned poles for dancing around. It is fresh air and it is fancy free, sweet and crisp, and like rolling around in the grass.
Call me crazy, but you would be too if you could smell this.