Thanks for the good wishes for my little finger.  I wound up with a little divot taken out of it, but it’s better, though not overly fond of me banging on the keyboard yet.

I will post the recipe for the raw pizza crust for those of you that asked either this weekend or next week. I’m waiting to get it. I sorta know what goes in it, but we cook and make a lot of this up as we go along.

So I’m going through my hits and misses of things I sniffed this week. Some of them I just don’t have much to say about, whether I like them or not, and some other people have reviewed much better, and some I’ve barely had a chance to sniff, enough to get my attention and not enough time yet to go into detail.

Lubin Black Jade – mostly a hit, except the bottle, which is pretty, but they don’t put the name on it except in small print on the bottom. I can’t SEE that, damnit!  Smells pretty much how you would guess, big spicy incensey rose, and it has cardamon so you really didn’t think I was gonna hate it, did you? I don’t know about all the Marie Antoinette backstory that comes with it, it just feels a little heavy for summer, but should be a good one for fall.

Watermelon Gazpacho – OMG I amdying this is so gooooooooood.  Watermelon, cucumber, tomatoes, green or red pepper, olive oil, sherry wine, salt, something else maybe, no recipe right in front of me.  I could drink this and probably will, probably with vodka.  I am veering off into a raw foodist for the summer, which is easy to do when everything is yummy.  Tomorrow I’m making a raw cherry pie. Pie crust is whirred up almonds with Medjool dates and salt for the pie crust, pressed into a tart pan. Then mix the cherries and maybe apricots together with some agave for the filling.

Creed White Flowers – I would have put this squarely in the middle to close to hi, and it will probably stay there. Don’t absolutely love it, don’t hate it, and it probably would have stood up better, except what I smelled after. It’s a nice white floral. It’s got a pretty violet top and nice depth.  I probably shouldn’t have smelled it with this batch of things because I feel like I’m giving it short shrift.  I’d happily wear this, but I’m not swooning like I am over –

By Kilian Sweet Redemption.  This is right there with the the Watermelon Gazpacho.  Orange blossom and vanilla, sweet, bitter, warmth, incense,  sunshine (orange blossom feeeeels like sunshine for me). It is floral and it is candied warmth.  And it smells exactly like the sticky mess warmed by the sun that is the path we all trudge to redemption.  Complete hit for me, I neeeeeeeeds a bottle for my personal stock, I just have my teensy sample.  Anyone wants to split a bottle, let me know. I only want to split it it with one or two other people so I get enough!

The summer sun.  Miss, miss, miss.  Feels like last week I was whining about the rain and cool. Oh, wait, it was!  From freaky thunderstorms and rain every day to 100 plus. My tomatoes and peppers are loving it, and they need it, but I’m thinking about my electricity bill that I’ll have to pay for the next two months and lining up banks to rob.

Andy Tauer’s Pentachords.  Haven’t smelled them in any in-depth yet, except to sneak a little sniff.  But It’s Andy, and it’s five notes only in each.  For example, Verdant is leaves, leather, tobacco, earth, amber. White is violet, orris, bourbon vanilla, ambergris and warm wood.  Auburn is citrus, cinnamon, tobacco, amber, sandalwood.  Having these sitting on my desk is like being in the Ferrari showroom.  You don’t have to get IN the car and drive it to know it’s gonna be fun, but you greatly anticipate the moment when you do.  So it’s just a hit unsniffed because it’s too much fun.

BTW, Anita and I, I think, will be talking about these later, when she gets hers.

Now for the good news, two people will get small samples of all of these after I draw two names out of the commenters on this post. Except the Watermelon Gazpacho, but only because I can’t figure out how to get that in the mail in this blazing summer heat.  So drop a comment, tell me your misses and hits this summer – could be a book, a scent, a recipe, a place, and you’ll be entered!

Patty

Well, as we wait for the new Le Labo L.A. scent to land (later this month?), I’ve got nothing big showing up, so I just reached into the sample grabbag to find some things that might be interesting.

Farmacia SS Annunziata Cara – This line has been getting some comments thrown around, but I don’t think I’ve seen a review of any of them yet.  Notes of Amber, caramel, almond, talcum, vanilla.  Is there any combination of notes more likely to give me a bellyache?  No, no, there is not, in theory or in reality.  Fans of the big powdery gourmand need to belly up to this scent and inhale your fill. I will pass. It’s like a caramel covered in baby powder, and I don’t mean that in a good way.  Wait!  It’s play-do, I swear!!!

Farmacia SS Annunziata Regina – Let’s assume Cara’s freshly powdered baby butt was an anomaly and try another one.  Notes of Rose, chamomile, rice, honey, ylang ylang, iris.  At least this list of notes doesn’t make my stomach lurch like the deck chairs on the Titanic.  It feels a little old fashioned in the best way, I suspect that’s the chamomile, which always feels vintagey to me.  The rose isn’t huge in it, nor is the iris. It has a really homey vibe with the honey, rice and chamomile that’s just, well, cozy.  This one works for me much, much better. 

Farmacia SS Annunziata Ybris – Notes of amaretto, lime, grape seed, tea, oakmoss, benzoin, iris.  Oh, dear God, no, just no.  That open, yikes!  It feels like one of those parties we had in high school where we filled up a trashcan with Kool-aid and Everclear.  I’d like to say it got better, but not by much.  Too limey, like my nose has been rubbed in it and is still burning.

 Those of you that have tried this line, any others that are must tries? I’m totally grooving on the Regina, so there must be others with a happier ending like that one.

Lubin Nuit de Longchamp – Notes of Sicilian Bergamot, Tunisian Orange Blossom, Nutmeg, Cardamom, ylang ylang, Turkish Rose, Dades jasmine, Iris of Florence, Mysore Sandalwood, Broom absolute, Patchouli, Haitian Vetiver, Tolu and Peruvian Balsam, labdanum, oak moss.  This is pretty interesting. It seems like just your more old-fashioned floral circa 1934, but it’s got enough darkness and earthiness in the base to give it some life.  It’s an interesting perfume that those of you who are fond of the darker vintage perfumes should find something or much to like in it.  Does anyone know how true this is to the original?  I’m assuming there are some variations in materials, not sure if notes have changed.

Patty

I wrote this post before I left for the NYC Sniffapalooza, given the rigors of the schedule and my travel.  I´ll report in later, if Patty doesn´t cover it tomorrow. Instead I thought I´d cover one of my fragrant surprises.

Two weeks ago I grabbed one of my gazillions of atomizers sitting on the shelf in my closet, intending to douse myself in (reorchestrated) Femme, because it was one of those craptastic sleety days, and I was feeling like a hefty dose of Femme´s cumin contrariness would be the perfect antidote. I could tell immediately I´d grabbed the wrong thing. It smelled like Feminite du Bois, sort of, and you can make worse mistakes in grabbing the wrong bottle. Only that flummoxed me, because I thought my decant of FdeB was a much bigger bottle. While I stood there pondering, the scent changed again, and I picked the vial back up, filled with hope and wonder and yet still incredulous. Yep. My newfound love – Idole de Lubin!

Regular readers – don´t you wish you had a dollar for every time on this blog I have whined about how Idole never opened up properly for me? Never did its thing? How it was clear that the fragrance should suit me right down to the ground, from the notes (saffron, bitter orange, rum absolute, black cumin and bitter orange peel, doum palm, smoked ebony, sugar cane, leather, red sandalwood) to the nose (Olivia Giacobetti) to the bottle? And how all I ever got was 15 seconds of Feminite du Bois, followed by generic hazy woody vanillamber sweetness?

Well, knock me over with a feather. I wore it three days in a row. It was absolute perfection. It was every thing I ever wanted. I have absolutely no fricking idea. The Perfume Gods took pity on me? I got a new nose? What?

Idole starts off with a glorious burst of saffron (my love!) over orange, the rum note adding a jaunty richness to the opening rather than an overwhelming drink-me liquor feel. The cumin adds warmth without coming on strong – I couldn´t pick it out unless I was looking for it. The drydown is smoky and resinous – I don´t know what doum palm, smoked ebony and sugar cane smell like, but sign me up. The whole experience has that Giacobetti seamlessness and lightness I appreciate. The drydown gets darker and richer, vaguely in the direction of Chaos, but never really dark. I don´t get a ton of leather in the drydown, more woods, and I´m fine with that. My only nitpicky complaint is the blast of alcohol in the opening; do yourself a favor and give it a minute or two to fade before you bury your nose in there. It´s less opaque and woody than FdB, easier to wear than Chaos, lighter while not being insipid.

For three excellent alternate reviews, check Bois de Jasmin, Now Smell This, and Perfume-Smellin´ Things.

Idole bottle: Luckyscent.com

March

Vetiver and I have a difficult relationship. I blame this on a tragic first meeting with Hermessence Vetiver Tonka, one of … how do I put this delicately? One of the most heinous fragrances on the planet. Vetiver Tonka is the fragrance equivalent of avocado ice cream – no, make that Brussels sprouts ice cream – and every bit as hard to choke down. (I concede my problem may in fact be with tonka, since I tried Patricia de Nicolai´s Vanille Tonka with similarly dismaying results.)

I´ve been trying to undo the leaf damage with a slow reintroduction to the wimpiest vetivers I can find. I was charmed by Guerlain Vetiver Pour Elle, and then worked my way up to regular ol´ Guerlain Vetiver, which I am pretty sure is now at the top of my to-buy list for The Big Cheese this spring. Le Labo Vetiver I like, but it´s not really vetiver, is it? Anyway, when Louise offered up a sniff of Lubin Vetiver recently, I turned her down. Couldn´t care less. I only tried it because she kept shoving it at me, and if you´ve met Louise … well, anyway, it´s gorgeous. Clearly I still like my vetiver on the cleaner end of things, and with a little additional company – notes are: mandarin orange, grapefruit, Guinea orange, orange flower oil, cloves, whole nutmeg, pepper, Java vetiver, Eastern red cedar, myrrh, frankincense, tobacco. If you are feeling blue and would like to wet yourself laughing, read the description on LuckyScent (“… the freshly torn from the earth richness of vetiver and the otherworldly airiness of frankincense circle each other warily, a truce between the sacred and the pagan….”) But what a wonderful, cheerful pleasure: citrus and spice opening, but layered with the vetiver from the start – so the whole effect is that bright, sparkling, leafy earthiness rather than dirty rootiness. Trot in the woods and incense and tobacco, and you´ve presented vetiver on a perfect platter of notes. I doubt vetiver purists will find this satisfying, but gosh, it´s pretty – I hate to use that word, because really, it´s unisex heading toward masculine on me, but it´s one of those colognes I´d ask about if I smelled it standing behind someone. Have you smelled it? If I say, I´ve come around to vetiver, and then cite Guerlain and Lubin as examples, does that give me all the street cred of someone who talks about how much they´ve learned to love Mexican cuisine based on their meals at Taco Bell?

L´Atelier Boheme Immortelle — Wow. What a … stunning disconnect between my nose and the online reviews. Perfect if you would like to smell like baby lotion and amber. None for me, thanks.

L´Atelier Boheme Helianthe – green notes, pear, exotic flowers, ylang ylang, sunflower, sandalwood. I cannot think of the last time I experienced such a profound gap between my feelings about the opening and drydown of a scent. The opening of this is such a fruity, green atrocity – like taking a can of Glade Spring Meadow and shooting it straight up your nose – that I refused to scrub it only because I was curious whether it could possibly get more awful. Then I got distracted by my maternal duties (dinner or something) and – you guessed it – eventually realized Helianthe had morphed into a delicious scent. Now, let me clarify that I like pear. I like Petite Cherie. If you do not like pear, you will really feel the full flower (fruit?) of your hate for this. I still can´t recommend this, based on the hideousness of the opening. Has anyone else tried this?

Prada Cuir Ambre parfum – this is one of those obscure LE things that I think is available at the Roja Dove boutique at Harrods in London, at some Prada boutiques (Milan? Moscow?), and on alternate Tuesdays on Mars. Here´s my review: heh heh heh. Okay, first a big note of powdery amber, a cross between Anne Pliska and POTL, and I say: bleah. Then: big big BIG (cue music from Jaws) leather – leatherleatherleatherrrrrr, dark tanned boot leather, but expensive. Not soft handbag leather. If I do my weird huffing thing (we need a better name for that: I breathe softly in and out through my nose and mouth pressed softly against the scent on my skin in the drydown, and I feel like my hot breath gets me maximum feedback, including almost tasting it)… there is something else in there, spicy, like carnation or iris? But I only get the spice while huffing it. What I don´t get – that sort of fresh/aquatic note I sometimes get with leather, that I don´t care for. This is custom-quality leather, all the way, no vinyl here. I´m not even a leather freak, and yum.

Lubin Idole – okay, fine. I give up. Do you hear me? I give up on this. I get: 45 seconds of warm, woody wonder, a la Feminite du Bois. Then I get something doughy and wan. Then I get poof! nothing. Then I get some lame wisp of something indistinct and ambery. Notes of saffron, bitter orange, rum absolute, black cumin and bitter orange peel, doum palm, smoked ebony, sugar cane, leather, red sandalwood. Yeah, read that list and weep. This was made for me (by Olivia Giacobetti, no less.) Where are those notes? Not on my skin, that´s for sure.

Demeter Incense – this is new. Their blurb: “Demeter´s incense is a warm, deep, rich blend of exotic notes, inviting and enveloping, the kind of scent that is both simple and complex at the same time, centered on a unique core of Copal. Copal is a type of resin produced by plant or tree secretions, particularly identified with the forms of aromatic tree resins used by the cultures of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica as a ceremonially burned incense, as well as for a number of other purposes” etc. You know I love incense, and I like a lot of Demeter scents – not the sugary sweet ones, but their more offbeat ones (Holy Smoke, Beetroot, Coriander Tea, Bonfire, Greenhouse, off the top of my head, are pretty great, as is Eggnog, and yes, I know that sounds disgusting.) They don´t last forever, but they´re inexpensive and they come in those giant mini sizes (1/2 oz. for $5), which I love. So. This doesn´t smell at all churchy, like frankincense – Armani, Avignon, etc. This is definitely on the warm, resiny end of things. Its fragrance is mild and sweet, and there´s some extra stuff in there – a dry vanilla, maybe some amber, spice and pine? It´s soft and warm, smooth but velvety rather than creamy, a resiny comfort scent. To me, a nice Demeter is like putting on a favorite tee shirt. Two thumbs up.

Lubin images: LuckyScent

March