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SmellyBlog

Vanille-Banane


Woman in Ruanda, originally uploaded by cookiesound.

Woman in Ruanda, originally uploaded by cookiesound.

Once upon a time, my mother and I were nomads. My mother just sold her house in Jerusalem and was about to move into the little hut that my stepfather was building for us in the Galilee, so that we can all live closer to nature and eat organic vegetables that we sweat on growing in the garden. Until the little hut was ready, my mother and I lived with various friends and family members. It is very probably that we only stayed there for a few days, but I was left with the impression that we lived in all those different places. Little girls’ memories are not the most reliable thing in the world, but I sure did sense the temporary nature of these living arrangement.
And so we “lived” in different cities, including Tiberias near the Sea of Galilee, and in Bat-Yam, near Tel-Aviv, to stay with my step-grandparents. They had a cottage with a garden, one of the very few that were left from the days when Bat Yam was all just little houses with gardens and everyone could leave their house without locking the doors and never worry about theft. And in their house, they had a collection of my stepfather’s paintings. One of the painting always puzzled me, so I spent hours staring at it: a young African woman balancing a cluster of bananas on her head. Since they covered her hair completely, they seemed like a strange hairdo and if it wasn’t for my parent’s conversation, I would have never thought about the weight of the bananas on the girl’s tender neck.

These were days of summer, and my mother and grandmother took me to the beach every single day. At least this is what I can remember. Every day, I wore my banana-yellow velour swimsuit that my great-grandpa from LA brought me on one of his rare visits. And I always hoped that my mother would get me a banana ice-cream bar. It must have been the new big thing, because until than the only flavours were vanilla or chocolate. All were dipped in a thin imitation chocolate coating that crackles under your teeth and slide off the bar as it melted. It was a lot of fun to eat it, and if you every go to Israel, look for it – those very same ice cream bar, same flavour and probably the same recipes, have survived the test of time despite the great variety and competition in the frozen snack kingdom at this part of the world. It’s quite astonishing, actually.

But will Vanille-Banane, from Comptoir Sud Pacifique survive such test? No one could tell. I have to agree with Ishai, a rare case of a male perfume aficionado who lives in Israel – that all of the “Vanille”-something share the following characteristics:
1) Whatever is the second part of the name (i.e.: NOT the “Vanille”) will appear first when applying the scent
2) Whatever is the second part of the name will stick around for a few seconds or perhaps minutes (if you are so lucky)
3) They all dry down to vanilla (I can also smell musk in all or most of them) and that’s the end of the story.

Vanille-Banane is no exception, and begins with the promising mouthwateringly delicious fake banana flavour that makes you want more. And the moment you start salivating and licking that ice cream bar, the fickle structure of cream and sugar suffers a melt-down and slides off the stick, leaving you with just that: a popsicle stick soaked in artificial vanilla flavour. Yum.

Whatever other notes might be there - cardamom, condensed milk or what not, are far less apparent than they are in a banana bread. But even a simple scent like that has its charm: it really goes well with anything to do with suntan oil and cheap beach desserts. I like it a lot with my Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen or sunblock, which smells like pina-colada and banana to begin with...

Vanille-Pineapple


The little ananas seller, originally uploaded by gobou.

Resisting the shortening of days and the decreasing temperatures, there is one thing this season that can help create the illusion of summer: fresh pineapples from Hawaii. Contradictory to most of what I read and thought I know about pineapples, Fall seems to be the best time to get them here, and Vancouver is apparently close enough to Hawaii so that they get here fresh and fragrant. So much so, that the entire fruit store smells like deliciously juicy pineapples throughout the fall. I would buy an entire pineapple and leave it on the table like a vase with flowers, the only thing keeping me from eating it, is the knowledge that the longer I wait – the longer my home will smell like a tropical island. This fragrance is unmatched by any floral bouquet I have ever smelled.

Vanille-Pineapple smells not so much like fresh pineapples as it portrays the idea of pineapples as we know it through the flavoring industry. Nevertheless, I like it. A lot. The beginning is so juicy and sweet, it feels just like sucking the sugary fluids out of a pale-coloured pineapple-flavoured popsicle. And while I am at it – if you ever make it to Israel, you must try this delicacy, which costs less than a quarter and is the best treat on a hot day (my other favourite flavour is lemon – the classic). The fragrance is intensely sugary-sweet, to the point that it feels as if it is underlined by warm melted chocolate, but than it mellows down. The icy sugary syrup than becomes more like chewing on a pina-colada flavoured bubbled gum - a really good one that makes huge bubbles! – and still very sweet and mouthwatering.

Once this sugary pineapple phase cools down, it becomes smoother and less juicy, as milky aspects start soothing their way through – coconut milk, and the slightly chalky, yet comforting oatmeal milk, which than warms up almost to an oatmeal porridge with a hint of cinnamon. This simplistic baby-phase is really fun, and gives an interesting spin on the pineapple theme, as it doesn’t stick to a tropical cliché too much.

The powdery oat milk becomes smoother as the base notes take over, as if boiled down into a caramely, thick sweetness. The caramel is flavored with vanilla and for extra warmth and sweetness; a shot of rum was sneaked into the base. The dry down is more vanillic, with some musk. Sounds like we smelled this before? Yes, but not quite. Some trails of pineapple tartness remain at the base.

Vanille Pineapple is a fun fragrance to wear, the type of scent that adds a smiley sunlight into an otherwise grey day. It might be too sweet for the summer though, so when it’s hot an you crave a pineapple fragrance my recommendation will be the slightly more tart, green and powdery Ananas Fizz by l’Artisan.

Comptoir Sud Pacifique fragrances are becoming more and more avaialble. To my delight, I just found them in none other than Shoppers Drug Mart beauty boutique in Yaletown.

Notes (base on Basenotes; for some reason,): Pineapple, Vanilla Cream, Passion Frit, Cinammon, Frangipani, Vanilla Sgar, Coconut Milk, Musk

Tiaré

This is again a review of the older version of the scent from Comptoir Sud Pacifique. The new version, Aloha Tiaré, is not the same scent at all. Generally speaking, the new one is more of a gardenia and tuberose scent, while the older version reminds, while the original, baring the simple name Tiaré, is a creamy and indulging Monoi Oil scent – an infusion of the Tahitian gardenia named Tiaré in coconut oil.

Unfortunately, the beginning of Tiaré is overwhelming and smells strongly of artificial jasmine and gardenia on an oily background of coconut and vanilla. The intensity level is so overwhelming that it gives off the impression of fueling gas. Luckily, after about half an hour it softens into a creamy scent of white flowers condensed and immersed into coconut oil infused with vanilla beans. The dry down is not unlike Songes, but I find Songes to be more sophisticated and magical.

Tiaré reminds me very much of Yves Rocher’s Monoi de Tahiti body and hair oil – also discontinued, unfortunately. I think I prefer the scent of Monoi as a body product, in an oil base, rather than as a perfume. There is something more appealing about it as a beach scent per-se, rather than a scent that suppose to remind us of the beach. There is something about this that just makes it feel fake.

P.s. This would be the last review of beachy scents for this summer. I am really trying to push it, but I should have taken the hint from the rain in JFK airport and realized it's fall already. One more post as a summer grand finale, and I will officially settle myself into my autumn moods, scents and clothes...

Chocolate Factory


Chocolate Factory I, originally uploaded by ElseKramer.


ריח של שוקולד Smell of Chocolate
מילים: יהונתן גפן Lyrics: Yehonatan Geffen
לחן: יוני רכטר Music: Yoni Rechter

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בסוף רמת גן יש מקום מיוחד At the edge of Ramat Gan there's a special place
שם אפשר לעמוד ולהריח שוקולד Where you can stand and smell Chocolate in the air


יש שם בית גבוה גבוה בלי חלונות עם שלוש ארובות There's a big tall house with three chimneys and no windows
ושלושים מכונות יום ולילה עובדות And thirty machines inside working all day and night
ושבעים פועלים עם סינר וכפפות Seventy workers in aprons and mitts
מכינים שוקולד בכל הצורות Making chocolate of every kind.


שוקולד קטן ושוקולד גדול Small Chocolate, Big chocolate
שוקולד יקר ושוקולד בזול Expensive chocolate, cheap chocolate
שוקולד אגוזים ושוקולד סתם Chocolate with nuts, and chocolate plain
לעשירים ולכולם והריח בחינם For the rich people, and for all
וכל האזרחים עוצרים ומריחים...And all the citizens stop and smell

עוצרים הילדים שרצים בשכונה The kids stop, running in the street
עוצר האוטובוס מעבר לפינה The bus stops around the corner
החתולים מפסיקים לברוח מהכלבים The cats stop running away from the dots
השוטרים עומדים ליד הגנבים The cops stand next to the thieves
כולם מביטים אל הארובות Everybody gazes uup to the chimneys
ולאט לאט, האף שלהם, And slowly slowly, their nose
מתמלא בריח של שוקולד fills up with the smell of chocolate

שוקולד קטן ושוקולד גדול... Chorus: Small chocolate, big chocolage

בסוף רמת גן יש מקום מיוחדAt the edge of Ramat Gan there is a special place
שם אפשר לעמוד ולהריח שוקולד. Where people can stand and smell chocolate


Image from DVDBEAVER.com

When I lived in Ramat-Gan, a part of Greater Tel Aviv, where the Elit Chocolate Factory resides, I could smell the chocolate everyday on the way to work. The building is grey and melancholy looking, just like any busy factory. But this concerned no one. The fragrance of chocolate that wafted in the air within about a mile radius around the factory was the best start imaginable for a morning – particularly on a winter day. And what more – smelling chocolate has none of the (down)side-effects of eating it, even early in the morning. It was pure indulgence.

Amour de Cacao is just this: the scent of a laborious chocolate factory, sweet and rich and creamy and oh so tasty. Today, the first day of weather that does not resemble melted chocolate, I got into the browny mood of warmth and chocolate. I sprayed myself generously without feeling in the least overpowered. I am walking all day in an invisible cloud of rich chocolate, slightly caramely, with nutty undertones of walnuts and roasted coffee beans. Light as cocoa powder, without the sneeze. Pure pleasure.

Comptoir Sud Pacifique original Amour de Cacao is the first full bottle from this line that I proudly added to my collection. Being notorious for loving complex perfumes with dark and winding stories, I found it difficult to choose a fragrance from this line of candy-store scents. I loved many, but none really grabbed my attention beyond the novelty – Vanille Banane, Ananas Vanille, Coco et Vanille, Vanille Abricot – these are all sumptuous and mouthwatering, but not something I would like to have on my skin for very long. Tiare is another gorgeous creation (particularly the original one), and so is Écume de Thé (which also changed formulation recently, unfortunately). Many thanks to Esti from Make Up Alley for sharing this special scent with me!

P.s. I was planning to continue with reviews of a few last summery scents, but, alas, the weather here is cool and invites brown scents. If I will not post my other beach-scents reviews soon they might need to wait till next summer...






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