Pairing: Bonne chance, gentiane + Ninfeo Mio

The other day, two new things in two of my favorite categories.

One:  Gentian liqueur.
Two:  Ninfeo Mio perfume.

Within a block of each other.

Sprayed the Ninfeo Mio first, in a tiny cute shop tucked away on a street leading from the Metro stop to the D'Orsay museum.  Could have predicted enjoying Goutal's version of a "bracing" opening--refreshing, but not so much a hard slap as the quick schmack! followed by the 'not really painful but you can tell something violent led to' relief of cold water splashed on hot pavement.  The bergamot is part of that.  A lemony bergamot that is quickly pulled back by some dryness, dryness which doesn't remove the citrus, but makes it behave differently.  The kind of thing DH calls "peppery."  (Sharp generally = "peppery" in his book, especially if bergamot is involved.)  Quite pleasing, if you go in for that sort of thing.  And I do.

Later, it transitions into a smooth herby gently sweet something.  Which I want to experience again.  And plan to.  And perhaps will describe better then.  But meanwhile, I was distracted by...

...gentiane.  On a cafe menu.  I've been enjoying this business of the public aperitif; back home, I'm like some lady in her dotage, sneaking a nip of the sherry when cooking.  You see, nobody "does" aperitifs in my local circles.  I'm working on changing that...but for now, if I'm enjoying an apertif, it's generally just me and my gardening companion The 70 Pound Dog, sitting out on the patio, staring at the plants and trying to conjecture what I can cook in 30 minutes or less that will seem like it was something I gave serious consideration for part of the day.  (The old days of no time to stop to breathe seem to have their most serious vestiges in my cooking habits...)

Here, my spouse joins me, and we join others, and there's a whole shelf of things to choose from.  Not always gentiane, however, so I took my chance.  And it was bitter herbal tonically good.  Fabulous color, too...not the hyper fluorescence of absinthe, but something that the good forest might have conjured.

Those herbs?  I fancied I found them in the drydown of Ninfeo Mio.  Tucked away among a layer of gentle floral.

This is one corner of Paris I'll be able to enjoy in my grotto, whether I am alone or with company.  Give me a ring if you're in the neighborhood; I'll set you up.  A slap on the wrist and a sharp in the glass.

If you don't like 'em, you can always swap for Shalimar and a vanilla creme soda.

New Frontiers in Pairings

You know I haz fun with perfume/cocktail pairings.

There are folks, not only Chandler Burr, who like to play with perfume/food pairings.

And, of course, there is ye olde beverage/food pairing.

But give the winners of the Euroscientist Journalism contest their due:  They offered up a six-course meal, with each course coming with a correlated presentation on a particular scientific investigation.

While the sequencing of the truffle genome may not be your bag of tea, it didn't really have to be, as the science was apparently served "lite."  Nonetheless, the idea tickles my fancy...as does the topic of the dessert course.  (Sex, natch.)  Seems ornamentation does well for pannacotta and males interested in sex.  (Maybe that's why we like our perfume packaging???)

Complete article here.

Angelica, in and out of the rain

A fellow lover of plants sent me angelica seeds a few years back.  I put them in a corner of the patch that I was just starting to transform from a former playset pit into a garden.  I knew their height and durability would be just the thing to help visually and philosophically anchor a corner that sat at a point into which decorative, cutting, crop, and wild areas all ran.

When I got the seeds, I was excited.  But the only thing I knew of angelica was from my readings.  And my readings focused on its herbal properties, its suitability for low maintenance gardening, and the quiet but powerful role it could play in visual design.

If anything discussed how good the flowers smell, I don't remember it.

I do like their odd sweet with herbal bitterness aroma.  Which starts wafting a few inches away from the flower heads and invites you to stick nose down into the umbels, where you can inhale deeply.

Angelica, if you have not made its acquaintance, grows tall.  Quickly. Here's three foot stalks that shot that high in less than two weeks.  The bulk of the vertical growth happened in less than a week.  The stems are light but strong, hollow tubes with fern like fronds positioned opposite each other but spaced generously apart.

People tend to inhale, draw back a bit sharply...then go back for more.  The sweet wins...and because it's so high up, it's easy to revisit.

***

Angelique Sous la Pluie has long been one of my favorite in the Frederic Malle collection, and has been hovering at the "next full bottle purchase" list for a while now.  (When I do get it, it will join En Passant and L'Eau d'Hiver, suggesting that I might have a preference for the understated...but I think of it as finding a beauty in these scents that is hard to find in most lines.  I also adore Parfum de Therese, and there's no way that one is going to be interpreted as "quiet" or "understated.")  When I went out to harvest some angelica the other day, I realized I needed to revisit Angelique Sous la Pluie, not only in tribute...but because I had reached a new level of appreciation for Jean-Claude Ellena's creation.

Standing there in the garden, inhaling the flowers, I was struck by how honest the perfume was in terms of the smell of the herby sweet flower.  My memory even suggested that perhaps I needed to re-categorize Angelique... as a semi-soliflore.  When I actually came back and spritzed the perfume, a little bit of trompe l'schnozz was unveiled.  Yes, the idea of the actual flower was in there.  But it was as if the flower had been given a bit of Diorella-ish bite, with an aldehyde-like lift.  "Diorella-ISH"..."aldehyde-LIKE"...true flower IDEA...put together constructs which conjure, and the gestalt is what is Angelique Sous ls Pluie.  It's as if you are looking at an attractive picture full of depth and with saturated colors in some areas but with light passing through in others...and then realize you are looking through a series of transparencies, but translating the assembly into a whole.

**

At this moment, blowing back and forth between hot, humid and cool, breezy weather, with a long holiday weekend in front of me and plenty of angelica still left standing in the distance, I conjure a drink that suits the plant and the perfume.  At the moment, it's an elderflower liqueur that comes to mind to stand in for the angelica element, and a Plymouth gin to capture both the Diorella bite and the not-quite-aldehydic lift.  Because ASlP not full out bubbly, I'm not bringing in a sparkling wine or seltzer.  It needs shaking over ice, of course, to bring in the chill, and then being served martini style, to allow the sweet elements to hover at the surface of the liquid.

And as you lower your lips to the glass, it will be a little like putting your nose down to that angelica flower umbel...and the sip will be like the transparent layers of floral herby sharp refreshment that is the perfume.

*

P.S. There is a bubbly Elderflower pressé made by a British company, Belvoir, which would be a nearly suitable non-alcoholic beverage pairing for Angelique Sous la Pluie...you'd really need to mix in some tonic to cut the level of sweetness and make it be right.

And, if it were really hot, I'd turn the the alcoholic proposal into something stirred with tonic over ice.  And a slice of bitter cucumber to garnish.

all images author's own

Pairings: Odd Greenery

Today's pairing does not involve alcohol.  Not in the beverage, at least; barhounds should return for the next installment.  (All should refrain from quaffing their perfume.)

Conjure this:  vegetal, earthy liquid that is part tonic (as in the medicinal concept, not the quinine mixer), hint of bitters, salty-ish something that kicks the green toward seaweed.  All connected by something which smooths it out, makes the herbal potion not only palatable, but pleasurable, in an umami sort of way.

What is "this"?  In a cup, an iced green tea latte.  On my wrist, Niki Saint Phalle parfum.  Wonderful co-conspirators.  Potions, each of them.  Neither of them an easy down kind of thing.  But compelling.  And the more huffed or sipped, the more pleasure they offer.  Your tongue adjusts.  Your nose starts to tell you there's something sweet in there.

This is a simpatico pairing.  Very similar, these two, and definitely complimentary.

image of a 16" factice from "Silke's Giant Factice World"

(available for purchase)

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I used parfum strength Niki Saint Phalle, from a beautiful cobalt bottle with the intertwined snakes on top, which I scored from online auction last year.  (Was the artist-perfumer conjuring a cadaceus there?  What form of witchcraft this? Hmmm...)  Just last week, I got some Niki in the edt.  It behaves differently, in many of the ways you might expect.  If you're doing this pairing, go with the parfum.  The extra viscosity provides a suitable equivalent for the milkfat in the latte.  Straight up green iced tea would probably be a nice accompaniment to the edt, though.

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Sadly (yup, here it comes), Niki Saint Phalle is discontinued, but is at this point fairly readily available online.

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My green tea latte was lightly sweetened and came from Starbucks.

Pairings: In Name Only

In comments to my last post, Nancy raised the possibility of Sortilege with her Sortilege, introducing the Name Game style of pairing.

Today, I notice in my blogfeed over to the left there that The Accidental Hedonist has reviewed a barleywine called Mirror Mirror.  Craft/microbrewery fiends might already be all over this one.

Haven't tried it, myself.  Hence, I shall chase down a bottle of Deschutes Mirror Mirror, and beg a sample of one of the Thierry Mugler "Miroir, Miroir" collection off of a pal.  Then I shall sit down to a tall one of the "creamy" "hoppy, but in a floral sense" beer, raising my glass to Nancy and her Sortilege while I suss out just what *really* would go with the barleywine from Bend.

It'll be tough, I know.  But I'm ready.  In fact, I believe I am ready to commit myself to regularly investigate the practice of pairing.

Should you make your own sacrifices in the interest of fragrance/beverage matches, please do let me know.  The blogosphere needs us.

Pairings: Maple Syrup

A friend hepped me to a Canadian maple syrup liqueur.  Sortilege.  Canadian whiskey with maple syrup.  It's like the Drambuie of the Great White North.  Yummers.

Having dinner with friends today.  The invitation came with a comment I take as a compliment:  "Your company is like comfort food."  Which naturally affected my efforts to identify what to bring for the table.  Found a recipe for maple syrup cake in a recent Bon Apetit.  Calls for two cups of Grade B syrup.  Perfect.  Will be making that, and can bring the Sortilege as a house gift that echoes the maple theme.

Naturally, the issue of perfume is on my mind.  Maple theme.  Have been wanting to try this perfume that Nathan Branch reviewed, Bucheron by Claude Andre Hebert.  (Diacritical marks totally avoided.)  Have yet to put hands or nose upon it.  Still want to.  Meanwhile, as it turns out, I have found another maple syrup/immortelle goodie:  Immortelle L'Amour, from Ayala Moriel perfumes.  I ordered a sample based on Ayala's story of how she constructed the scent for comfort in her blog, and in Heather Ettlinger's mention of it in her Memory and Desire project.  (Is it really two years since Heather did this?  This project was part of my propulsion down the rabbit hole of scent.  If you haven't roamed through it, you really should take some time to wander.  Perfumers and their interpretation of a poem.  It's wonderful.)  Anyway, I was able to sample it today.  Gourmandy goodness.

Sortilege (the liqueur, not the perfume house) arrived a few weeks ago.  Immortelle L'Amour arrived the other day.  In the word of fellow blogger Abigail over at I Smell Therefore I Am, both are "numilicious."

Maple syrup for the opening of spring.  No need to tap any trees.

So, today's pairing is:

Sortilege liqueur
  -- with --
Immortelle L'Amour 

Why?  Both liberally employ maple syrup (/immortelle), both are cozy, both linger, both invite investigation while comfortably ensconced in an overstuffed club chair.  Why now?  There will still be cool nights and grey rainy days that would be well served by this kind of comfort.  There must be a reason Mother Nature sends the sap flowing in preparation for warmer days ahead.

Enjoy a slice of maple syrup cake with either.  With wishes for a Happy Easter, and belated wishes for a pleasant Passover, for those who take note.  I will be sipping, sniffing and listening to the trees as the landscape turns green.

Scent for a Snow Day

It’s a beautiful day outside.  Snow has been falling for hours.  The gentle blanket is at this point becoming a mattress, soon to be an oversized pillow top.  The sun is bright whenever the snowfall lessens, it is cold enough for snow but not so cold to be uncomfortable.  With so much snow about, one is compelled to slow down, because so many plans and tasks are clearly undoable.  Snow games and warm drinks.  Happiness and cocoa.

It’s a great day for L’Or de Torrente.

L’Or is flowers with a generous dash of Torani syrup.  To me, the syrup is chocolate.  Officially, the note is coffee, but I think the combination of vanilla/coffee/angelica/”white amber” has more of an overall chocolate effect.

In fact, if I were doing a pairings, I’d be finding the right chocolate liqueur, and offering that up as a potential member of the flight that accompanies L’Or.  You might want to include a special cocktail, blended with a floral and a chocolate.  Good old St. Germaine comes to mind; given the fruit notes listed in L’Or, the edible quality of elderflower, and its brightness, are a good companion to that part of the equation.  There’s a nice chocolate liqueur, Alumni,* that would do well for that end, though for a third concoction in the flight you could use Kahlua and probably come up with the right concept.

I disagree with Luca Turin, who called L’Or de Torrente a Negroni.  A Negroni is gin, campari, vermouth, twist of lemon.  I get the lemon, but the Campari is the wrong nose-feel/mouth-feel.  Too bitter, too sharp on the tongue.  Needs to be a liqueur that hangs out a bit, in the vein of Drambuie or Cuarenta Y Tres.  And I quibble with gin, though if you are using a Hendrick’s type, it could work.  (Still, the mouth-feel/nose-feel is not thick enough for my experience of L’Or.)  

It’s a snow day around here.  Perky, but with warm comfort.  Try some L’Or de Torrente to go with.  Playing in the snow is free; L’or is a veritable bargain, under $30 for 1.7oz at a number of online retailers.

*Alumni may have gone out of production.  Drop me a line if you’re in the neighborhood; I’ll pour you a snort and you can see for yourself.  

Pairings: this just in...

YSL Yvresse top notes ARE St. Germaine. I've been trying not to drink it.

Pairings: others explore

Perfume Smelling Things is back from vacation, and today's entry explores a specific cognac/perfume pairing:

http://perfumesmellinthings.blogspot.com/2008/08/perfume-review-aftelier-cognac.html

Having just discussed the concept of scent & spirit pairings here On the Ledge, a few folks have weighed in with their own suggestions.  Scroll down to "First Variation: Pairings" to see their comments.  Add your own if you have thoughts on the subject!

First Variation: Pairings

I wish I knew more about both bar chef-ery and perfumery.  I'd be so much better at this post.  Nonetheless, here goes...

I have a fantasy party.  Two variations.  One revolves around pairings of scent and beverage.  The other, presentations of "flights" of scent along the lines of the increasingly popular flights of (champagne/scotch/wine/beer) available at certain establishments.  Today, variation #1.

PAIRINGS

Let's run this as a game.  I'll go first.  

I met a delightful liqueur last winter.  St. Germain.  Made from elderflowers, but I spent a number of weeks thinking of it as a violet based beverage.  Maybe because I had recently been reading about violet liqueurs (not that there are many in that realm); maybe because when I first tested Apres L'Ondee, I was reminded of when I tried St. Germain.  Now, is that because they smelled alike?  Because I was so happy-surprised when I first encountered each?  Because each made me wistful-happy?*

I don't know.  This needs research.  Party #1.

But there should be other pairings available.  I'm thinking there are certain ambers that will go well with a good scotch.  Maybe a Midori concoction to accompany Un Jardin Apres le Mousson--but I've been too afraid of losing my, erm, composure over the melon in that one to have given it a go yet.  

Black Cashmere with ... no, need something more peat-y.  Oooh, layer Black Cashmere with Black March; accompany with a shot of Jameson's?

My kids, when allowed to indulge in soda pop at a fountain, like to concoct what they call a "suicide," which is essentially a blend of everything dispensed at that fountain.  However, there are certain combinations that they say are guaranteed winners, and they particularly like root beer with orange (heavier on the root beer).  What is the spritzer to accompany that?  

I'd like to compile a list.  Beverages can be hot or cold, alcoholic or non.  Thoughts?

*BTW, St. Germain is lighter than the heavy sweet violets on one end of the perfume spectrum, and not as earthy as the other.  There is some dark sugar lurking...maybe it's a Chanel with a Guerlain uncle?