taste

This article is part of a series in which we speak to individuals who – due to a unique job, location or experience – share an insight they wish others could know.

What’s the one thing people should know? We’re all thinking differently about the same thing.

As a child, Constantina Makridakis, a 28-year-old jewellery designer from Greece, thought everyone could taste voices and names.

Her father’s name, Nicholas, tasted like caramel-coated chocolate, while her mother’s name, Maria, was pasta with prawns.

The tastes were usually pleasant; the name Paul, a rich chocolate liquor, was particularly delicious.

“I thought everyone had this ability,” she explained. “It seemed natural to me. We talk from our mouth, so it made sense [that] we also taste names and voices … it seemed connected to me, so I didn’t ask anyone about this.”

That was until one day in her late teens, when her sister, Amelia, whose name tasted sweet – often in the form of syrup or jam – told her about a documentary on synaesthesia.

After watching it, Makridakis realised she had a form of synaesthesia, a perceptual phenomenon in which sensory experience triggers another.

Music as colours

The experience of synaesthesia can vary significantly. For example, American singer-songwriter Billie Eilish experiences the names of days of the week as colours, numbers and shapes.

Hungarian composer Franz Liszt is also believed to have been a synesthete, experiencing musical notes as colours. In 1842, he is said to have confused musicians in the Weimar orchestra when he instructed them, “Gentlemen, a little bluer, if you please!”

Janina Neufeld, a researcher at the Centre of Neurodevelopmental Disorders at Karolinska Institutet (KIND) in Sweden, said that although it may seem surprising for non-synesthetes to hear about Makridakis’s experience, most of us can relate if we think about our own internal sensory associations.

“When we listen to music, most people can relate to the idea that sounds could be brighter, smaller or higher up in space … this is to some extent what a synesthete perceives,” she said.

It is estimated that 2 to 4 percent of the world’s population experiences some form of synaesthesia, although the true number may be higher, Neufeld said. Like Makridakis, many do not realise they have it – or that their experiences are unusual.

Neufeld herself experiences a form of spatial sequence synaesthesia, a milder variation that some people may have without realising. At KIND’s offices in Stockholm, she explained her version by closing her eyes and outlining a circle in the air with her finger, which she described as a full year.

On the circle, which she said exists in her “inner space” or mind, the year starts at the bottom of an undulating sphere, which she described as looking like a roller coaster track, and goes counterclockwise, with some months, such as December, longer than others.

Exploring the brain

How synaesthesia works on a neurological level is not yet fully understood, Neufeld explained.

One leading theory suggests that synesthetes may experience less “synaptic pruning” during childhood, a process in which neurons and synapses that are not needed are removed. For example, a child may strengthen the synapses related to a parent’s voice but prune those related to strangers, reinforcing useful connections and removing redundant ones.

The idea is that this pruning process is less extensive for people with synaesthesia, allowing extra cross‑sensory connections to remain. Neufeld, who has studied Makridakis’s case, said researchers have found strong evidence that sensory regions of people who experience synaesthesia exhibit more brain activation and increased interaction between different brain regions.

‘We see different things’

Makridakis said her synaesthesia can be over-stimulating at times. For example, if she is watching a film and an actor’s voice tastes like orange juice, she can find herself distracted by that sensory connection.

It can also lead to unhealthy temptations. The American accent tastes like Coca-Cola, which means when she is in the United States, she can find herself craving the sugary soft drink.

US President Donald Trump’s voice and name taste like melted cheddar cheese to Makridakis, while British actor Daniel Radcliffe, who played Harry Potter in the popular film series, tastes like chocolate milk, while US hip-hop star Eminem’s voice tastes like Cheetos.

Overall, though, Makridakis is fascinated by her perceptions and feels that if synaesthesia is studied more, it could lead to a deeper understanding of the human mind.

At times, she has flirted with the idea that synaesthesia could hold some spiritual meaning, especially since she can also experience a form in which a colour can shimmer around people. Her sister, for example, appears sometimes with a dark green halo around her.

If there is one thing non-synesthetes can learn from her experience, she said, it is that “we’re all thinking differently about the same thing”.

“We should always remember that everyone’s mind is completely different. We could say that the same colour is red; we could call it red, but we see different things,” she said.

Neufeld echoed this sentiment.

“Usually we think that everyone perceives the world similarly … we think sensory inputs are perceived the same, but synaesthesia shows there is more to the sensory experience; there are also a lot of internal associations and experiences that can be very rich,” she explained.

“Synaesthesia illustrates perfectly how differently we actually perceive the world.”

Other articles in the series:

For every actor, musician, writer and artist who has become a wealthy and enduring celebrity, exponentially more of them have enjoyed a brief, shining moment, never to be heard of again. What separates those who last from those who fade away? Is it luck, talent, drive, destiny? All of the above?

It’s an intriguing question that may have no definitive answer, but one that director Kent Jones (2018’s acclaimed “Diane”) and Oscar-nominated screenwriter Samy Burch (“May December”) lovingly and lyrically consider in the often first-rate “Late Fame.” The film is based on an 1895 novella by Arthur Schnitzler (also author of the book that became “Eyes Wide Shut”), which went unpublished until 2014.

A quietly captivating Willem Dafoe plays Ed Saxberger, a New York post office veteran of 37 years in a seemingly satisfying if decidedly low-key existence. For him, it’s work, then maybe a game of pool with his blue-collar buddies at a local bar (though he’s six years sober) and a solo return to his Greenwich Village walk-up.

That is, until one night, he’s approached outside his apartment building by a somewhat affected but seemingly earnest young man who goes by his last name, Meyers (Edmund Donovan). With his elevated speech, tony air and throwback attire, he’s like someone from another era; you could see him as one of Jay Gatsby’s pals or a bon vivant who drops by on “Downton Abbey.”

Meyers proceeds to tell an astonished Ed that he’s a huge fan of his long-forgotten 1979 poetry collection entitled “Way Past Go,” the postal worker’s fleeting brush with literary success. “They just slap you across the face with their style and with their relevancy,” extols Meyers of the poems. “They’re timeless.”

Really, what writer, no matter how detached from their past, could resist that kind of sweet talk?

A meet-up with Meyers’ “artistic community,” a circle of so-called intellectuals known as the Enthusiasm Society, leads Ed to humbly dip a toe back into his vanished creative side. He’s not unaware that Meyers’ mostly 20-something male friends have — like many — romanticized the gritty abandon of lower Manhattan’s bygone literary scene and perhaps Ed’s tenuous place in it. They might be poseurs tossing around references to Ginsberg and Bukowski, but the welcome mat the group offers Ed is enticing and inspiring.

Still, a visit to Meyers’ sleek apartment, admittedly paid for by his parents, confirms for Ed the kind of youthful privilege at play here, so unlike the scrappier downtown bohemia of his own artistic heyday.

The wild card in the Society is Gloria (Greta Lee, dazzlingly good), an impish sprite who’s hard to pin down. Is she really a working stage actor? Ed gets swept up in her performative antics and elusive, larger-than-life allure. (She’s older than her fellow Society members but decades younger than Ed.) When they develop a teasing flirtation, it’s one of the less credible turns here, given how authentic Ed is — and how dubious she appears (though some truth on that front will later unfold).

This tilt toward Gloria causes the film to lose its way a bit, pulling focus from the more potentially vital mentor-disciple dynamic between Ed and the anxious, navel-gazing Meyers. Plus, Donovan is excellent here, so less of him is, well, less.

That said, there’s a bravura second-act scene that finds Gloria performing an impassioned version of the 1929 Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill torch song “Surabaya Johnny” for an appreciative cabaret audience, one that includes a rapt Ed. It verifies Gloria’s singing talent and proves a perfect match for her showy, cagey persona: the love child of Marlene Dietrich and Sally Bowles.

If the story has a through line, it concerns the planning and execution of an evening of live readings from the Society’s works, with a new poem from Ed as its centerpiece. A few of the obstacles layered in — Ed’s struggle to write and some show-night personality conflicts — feel a tad obligatory. But the event itself has its high points, including the piece Ed finally reads.

In addition, an awkward meeting between Ed and a smooth literary agent (Jake Lacy), along with a mini-subplot involving phone calls from Ed’s frustrated sister about their dying brother, come off slightly wedged in. Not much payoff there.

No matter. There’s wisdom and depth to the film’s themes of growing old, dashed dreams and the magic of rediscovery, plus a deliciously ironic final twist. Jones manages his superb cast with aplomb and cinematographer Wyatt Garfield evocatively captures lower Manhattan’s wintry, burnished glow.

World Cup tourists are coming to L.A. for the soccer, but they’re staying for the $21 smoothies and Double-Doubles.

As the last Los Angeles FIFA World Cup event ended Friday, soccer fans were eating like locals and famous chains from the region were cashing in.

In the weeks that L.A. has hosted the World Cup, international soccer enthusiasts have flocked to big brands from the area, often in large groups wearing their countries’ jerseys.

It is a phenomenon seen at many of the host cities. In Dallas, giant gas station Buc-ee’s is the main attraction. For people visiting New Jersey, deli shops have been a hot ticket. In L.A., the place to be between matches was Erewhon.

Thirsty international sports fans gathered for pictures outside different Erewhons, wandered their aisles smiling, and, of course, picked up pricey smoothies.

While Erewhon would not comment on its business, mobility data company Arity, which uses phone data to track consumers, said Erewhon visits at the outlets around SoFi Stadium were quadruple what they were a week earlier on June 12, the day of the U.S. national soccer team’s opening match there.

Arity looked at what stores people visited within a 10-mile radius of SoFi that day and also found surges in visitors to nearby El Pollo Loco and Trader Joe’s.

Locals have spotted groups of people in Korea jerseys huddled together, trying to decide what to order at In-N-Out.

Some complained on social media that international tourists at Trader Joe’s were buying up all the mini canvas tote bags.

Soon after the Belgium vs. Spain quarterfinal ended Friday, the In-N-Out near SoFi had a long line of soccer fans stretching out the door in bright red and yellow and black jerseys and matching striped hats and scarves.

One of the workers said he had to explain “spread” and “animal style” to foreign football fans.

“I didn’t know this place existed,” a fan from Romania said while waiting in line.

Los Angeles and other cities and states that have hosted the event need the soccer fans to spend money to make the event worth all the time, effort and money it requires.

A rosy 2024 report projected the World Cup could bring more than $800 million to the L.A. region as 180,000 people converge on the area to sleep, eat and spend.

There were early concerns people weren’t turning up for the event because of the high ticket prices and the difficulty of obtaining visas for citizens of some countries.

However, at least for some L.A. hotels, there was a surge of last-minute visitors which pushed up occupancy and room rates.

While sports fans are not in the region to shop, they do make time for it.

World Cup customer spending is also apparent in beer sales. Andrew Heritage, the chief economist at the Beer Institute said beer purchases at entertainment and attractions in L.A. – outside of World Cup spaces – were up around 10% from normal.

“That tells me that fans in the L.A. area have decided to extend their stay and take in all the other things that the area has to offer, rather than just the match itself,” he said.

On social media, the purpose of these shoppers is clear: grab a quick souvenir or local specialty and take a selfie.

The data from Arity suggests that fans are very efficient when they spend at local spots, diving in, getting what they want and getting out as soon as possible, said Jeff Schlitt, a director at the company.

“Normally you’re there for an hour. They’re going to be there for 15, 18 minutes,” he said. “Why is that? Because they were purpose-driven shoppers.”

For some travelers, the more popular American chains aren’t unfamiliar. But some of the native L.A. fare still comes as a surprise.

As one Belgium-Spain matchgoer from the Netherlands stood taking a picture of the In-N-Out sign after the game, he said he’d never had a burger like the one he’d just tried.

“We only have McDonald’s and Burger King,” he said. “It’s way better.”