A palate for esculent scents

feature by denise kok | photography by ching, capsule productions | styling & art direction by yap yih may

A palate for esculent scents

❱❱ Beyond the creation of a scent, there is something

quite enigmatic about the way a fragrance unfolds.

Spray it on an upturned wrist and catch the first whiff.

The top notes are swift. Effervescent. They give way to puissant middle notes whose fortitude is broken by a final encore from the base notes. Even then, the way each scent blooms on the skin varies from person to person. It is a scientific process tempered by the organic union of scent and skin. But when it comes to the world of fragrances, there exists an oft-overlooked category of fragrances whose gourmand notes defy the industry

canon of florals, orientals or fougères. Nothing prepares you for the stark sensuality of its edible notes. Prada’s Candy drips with a viscous wash of caramel, Thierry Mugler’s Angel draws you straight into the workshop of a fine chocolatier, and Serge Luten’s Jeux de Peau raises the aromas of freshly baked bread. If there was ever an olfactory equivalent of a bon vivant, we’ll call out Penhaligon’s Juniper Sling, a gin-inspired jaunt that pushes scent boundaries with a spirit that’s temptingly quaffable.

So lean in for a whiff as we nose through some of the most ambrosial and intoxicating fragrances on the market.

luscious and melliferous, perfumes with edible notes leave a scent trail like no other

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In a dramatic departure from the Italian luxury house’s stable of scents, Prada dropped a saccharine surprise with Candy.

Released late last year, the fragrance crafted by Daniela Andrier is, as described

by Andrier, “a beautiful melting between traditional materials and innovation”.

With this fragrance, the name says it all. A nectarous treat is evoked through an

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overdose of Benzoin, a resin tapped from the styrax tree in Laos. While benzoin is not an unusual component in fragrances, Andrier’s decision to ramp up the ingredient to an unprecedented concentration of 12 per cent gives rise to warm, balsamy notes evocative of vanillascented honey. Pushing the fragrance further is the sweetly addictive pop of caramel. This extreme cocktail of benzoin and caramel is feathered out with powdery musk. Surprisingly, the playful scent is housed in a bottle that swaps frivolity for something a little more grown up. A circular vessel of liquid gold is crowned with a band of luxe pink Saffiano, boasting nothing less than the brand’s signature raised serif lettering.

JUNIPER SLING | PENHALIGON’S

CANDY | PRADA

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The secret of Penhaligon’s success is not just its regal pedigree or wild English eccentricity. It lies in its laissez-faire approach of granting carte blanche to the brand's perfumers. “We are very open to them using everything and anything within means to create a really unique and ground-breaking product,” reveals Mike Ng, marketing representative of Penhaligon’s Singapore. It is not surprising then, that the world’s most respected perfumers have chosen to orchestrate their scents in the British perfumery’s test labs. One such nose is Olivier Cresp, who turns fragrance mixologist with his creation, Juniper Sling — an intoxicating fragrance cocktail that baptises all with the merits

of a London Dry Gin. But far from smelling like a barfly, the scent sparkles with the freshness of juniper berries smoothed with orange brandy, before seducing with a gourmand base of brown sugar and black cherry. Given the ephemeral qualities of a spirit, how then did Penhaligon’s capture the very essence of a gin? The answer, it seems, calls for more than just old-school alchemy. “In order to get that mouth-watering effect that you get from watching that martini being poured right in front of you, we use CO2 extraction to extract the core ingredients found in gin, one of them being juniper berries… it is quite an amazing process that leaves the raw ingredient untouched and the essential oils extracted being extremely rich with the ingredient’s scent,” Ng explains.

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When Angel wafted onto the market in 1992, it confounded discerning noses everywhere. The unprecedented use of ethylmaltol doused the scent with thick caramel notes, pushed further with an unusual overdose of patchouli before rounding up with a vanilla accord. This bold, praline-inspired scent developed by perfumer Olivier Cresp opened the industry’s palate for gourmand fragrances. “Gourmand notes are popular these days as the modern condition demands a certain reassurance and cocooning of feelings,” a spokesperson from the Clarins Public Relations team in Paris explained. Last year, Thierry Mugler introduced The Taste

of Fragrance, a limited edition release of the brand’s signature fragrances, reinvented with a layering of gourmand notes. Here, Angel saw an experimental update with bitter cocoa powder. Moving beyond the laboratory, the brand sought a collaboration with Michelin-starred chef Hélène Darroze. At Thierry Mugler’s Taste of Perfume dinner, diners literally tasted Angel on the plate; sautéed duck breast was paired with a rich mole sauce, a Mexican speciality known for its chocolate base.

JEUX DE PEAU | SERGE LUTENS

ANGEL | THIERRY MUGLER

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Serge Lutens, the 70-year-old nose behind the eponymous niche perfume line christians his childhood as the genesis of Jeux de peau.

Growing up in the north of France, the scent of boulangeries coupled with the sensation of pressing hot bread on his cheeks was not only an act to warm the body, but also a balm to his solitude. In Jeau de peau, Lutens uses the humble cereal grain to recreate the hot breath radiated by freshly baked bread. Despite the perfume’s warming aromas of hot bread fed with apricot and coconut, Lutens is quick to qualify that it is in no way intended to be gourmand or sweet. Rather, he

alludes to a sentiment floated in Charles Trenet’s chanson — Douce France. But which sentiment does he speak of? He doesn’t elaborate. Lutens, ever the poet, couches his sentiment in poetry. Left hanging, I listen to Douce France over and over again, and between its languid refrains, it becomes clear to me that there is one note that isn’t listed in the ingredients list — saudade. If anything, the creation of this scent is not one that is made with the consumer in mind (there are few who delight in smelling like an oven-fresh baguette). It is an entirely selfish endeavour; one that underscores a man’s yearning for his childhood; a redemption of sorts for his past.

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