Picture yourself far away from the city, surrounded by tall, hundred-year-old trees, the hush of the forest broken by the crackling of a small fire. In the air there is a nostalgic blend of burning wood and molten sugar. Yes, we are picturing a marshmallow bubbling and turning dark golden on the end of a stick, and it’s making us extremely happy, but this scent is much darker and richer than that simple image from childhood first implies. The wood is deep and pungent and singed at the edges, and the vanilla is rich and enveloping, its sweetness tempered with bitter almond.
There is the tantalising aspect of something caramelising Ò not caramel candy, this is not a candy sort of scent – but the far more mysterious fragrance of sweetness morphing and evolving as it is licked by flame; the indescribable lusciousness of something almost, but not quite, burning. Complex, smoky and warm, this is a vanilla with a definite edge, suitable for grown-ups of all sorts. Dangerously delicious.