When I was staying in a hostel (during my college years), I really used to look forward to my visits home.
Home was comfortable, no studies to worry about, no cleaning to do, no hostel food to crib about. Instead there was mom fixing one great meal after another, dad there to take care of every small work of yours, no money problem- perfect time and place to rejuvenate yourself before getting back to the usual grind.
Since hostel food was a regular rant during my conversations with mommy dearest, when it was time for me to come home during college breaks, my mom would religiously ask me, ‘what do you want to eat on your first day back?’
I had a peculiar request besides the rajma chawal and butter chicken on the menu.
I would request my mom to bake a vanilla cake, and here is where the peculiarity and specifity of the request shone- the cake had to be baked the day I come. The reason- that ways the whole house smells of freshly baked goodness when I enter the house.