I once had a cat who smelled of vanilla. I think it was from spending so much time in the kitchen while Mom baked. She made bread and cakes and all kinds of things to sell to sell to supplement the welfare money we got because Mom couldn't afford to work and pay for someone to care for my brother and myself. We were pretty young then.
Ya know, I can still smell the bread and taste it in my memory even after all these years. One of my favorite meals back then was simply sliced potatoes boiled until they were almost nothing but soup poured over a thick slice of Mom's home made bread buttered thickly. I would never eat it these days but back then it was sometimes all we had and as much as we complained about having no meat It is one of my fondest memories these days.
I love to bake too but I don't because I would end up eating too much of what I bake.