s

SmellyBlog

Mastic

Narcissus and Mastic

Place a piece of brittle mastic resin in your mouth. Notice how the dusty, powdery coating that happened during the commute overseas in a jar turns pliable as it comes into contact with the moisture in your mouth... Start to chew and feel the resinous, slightly smoky, piney aroma fill your palate and nasal cavity... A nostalgic aroma, like tasting "glida mastic" for the first time in Jaffa some late summer night, or like sipping warm sahleb in midwinter - cooked from a packet that your mom sent especially from Israel all the way to Canada, just because you asked her to... The tinctured resin, although smells heavenly like these old fashioned ice creams and above mentioned sahleb (it is also used to flavour malabi, by the way), is very tricky tow work with as it is not 100% soluble in alcohol and leaves blobs of chewing-cum consistency at the bottom of beakers and vials, and sticks to all the utensil one tries to desperately stir it with. Mastic resinoid are also possible to produce, although I've never encountered ones (in those products, greater amount will be alcohol-soluble).

Mastic essential oil, on the other hand, is easy to dissolve but does not smell all that exciting. It comes from the mastic bush leaves and twigs, which are an inseparable part of my childhood's daily aromatic landscape. Those bushes grew everywhere, and we played among them, crushing some leaves along the way and scratching a branch here or there - which also releases a wonderful green, fresh scent. The essential oil, however, does not smell quite so similar to this experience, and is rather more like the rhododendron leaf oil. There is a resinous and slightly funky aspect to it, and hardly any remnants at all to the utter freshness of the living plant.

Mastic Resin

Mastic (Pistacia lentiscus), AKA Mastic lentiscus is from the same genus as the edible pistachio nut, and the other native that is commonly found here - Pistacia atlantica (P. atlantica is often used as a base for grafting pistachio trees). This is a very common evergreen bush that rarely exceeds the size of a bush, but is capable of becoming a small tree (up to 7m tall) if it escapes bush fires, logging and is not continuously consumed by grazing wildlife and goats.

The word mastic derives from the Latin word "Masticare" (to chew), in Greek: μαστιχάω verb mastichein ("to gnash the teeth", the English word comes from the Latin masticate) or massein ("to chew").

Although mastic bushes are in abundance all around the Mediterranean basin, the gum is only produced in a handful of countries - Algeria, Morocco and the Canary Islands. But Greece is the only place where it is grown commercially especially for production of its fragrant gum-resin - especially in the southern part of the island of Chios (close to Izmir, Turkey). The gum is obtained by making incisions in the bush's trunk, and they drip tears which harden over time and become the translucent-yellowish-white "tears" that one can find in Greek stores to be used as a "spice", and can also be used as incense.

Basket from #mastic
Medicinal and Cosmetic Uses:
Mastic is most commonly chewed as a breath freshener, and that's the main thing it is famous for. Mastic resin was used in the original recipe for Egyptian Kyphi - a perfume that was also chewed as a remedy. Mastic is generally used for stomach complaints, especially diorama in young children. Due to the gum's properties, it is used in many cosmetic preparations such as toothpastes, hair and skin lotions, etc.

Culinary Uses:
Mastic was used first and foremost as a chewing gum and breath freshener - before there was any chewing gum. Try it! It really works - nature's own original sugar-free chewing gum.  In the heat of the Middle East, it was a key ingredient in ice creams, to which is added not only a distinctively fresh-resinous flavour, but also a plasticity that helped it resist instant melting.
Mastic is used in several pudding-like and spoon desserts, including the above mentioned sahleb and malabia.
In Greece, it is used in festive pastries such as the challah-like tsoureki and vasilopita (in which a coin is hidden for New Year's Eve).

Flavouring Beverages: 
Smoke from mastic resin is also used to flavour water in Morocco. Finally, in the Levant mastic resin is used as a spice (to a lesser extent) also to flavour poultry and fish dishes, giving them a very peculiar flavour. There are several liquors prepared with mastic resin, such as Mastiha which is native to Chios, as well as a fizzy beverage called Mast.

Role in Perfumery:
Mastic resin is a great fixative, and makes a great addition to mimosa fragrances. The leaf oil is useful in green florals, Chypres, Fougères, etc. Mastic is not a very common ingredient in perfume, yielding only 39 items on Basenotes directory - two of them produced by yours truly (although they are not the only mastic fragrances by Ayala Moriel Parfums). Sahleb is a smooth, buttery orris fragrance; while Virgo zodiac parfum oil is more of a balsamic-woody floral with accessory notes of spicy-green aspects (cardamom and fennel among them).
Other perfumes I perceive as having a mastic note, are Nature Millénaire pour Homme (Yves Rocher, 2000), Kyoto (Commes de Garçon), both having the mastic resin note. As for the mastic leaf and twigs and branches - an allusion to them can be found in green, crisp Chypres (the likes of Eau de Sisley 2).

Religious Uses:
The Greek use mastic in preparation of Myron, an anointing oil used in the Greek Orthodox churches' chrismation ceremony.

Traditional & Practical Uses: 
Oil of mastic is used much like turpentine is in the West, in paint Freshly picked branches of P. lentiscus are a traditional raw material for Mediterranean-style basket-weaving. The abundance of available material and the ease of use (aside from removing the leaves, there is no need for pre-soaking or any other kind of processing prior to weaving).


Narcissi

Narcissus by Ayala Moriel
Narcissus, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.
When my mom was a little girl she picked narcissi on the railroad tracks with my grandpa.
Now she is a grandma but she still picks them for me!
Tonight I'm wearing a narcissus perfume I'm working on. With jonquil and narcissus absolutes. They bear little resemblence to the fresh flowers, but are equally breathtaking!

The perfume is very much based on the unique character of the narcissus absolute - densely floral, a tad spicy, honeyed, rich, luxurious, reminiscent of hay, maybe even a hint of roasted coffee.

The fresh flowers strongly remind me of winter in Israel: the flowers emerge out of nowhere, often amongst the commonest thorny bushes, and never cease to amaze me what life can bring out of the hard, rocky soil. The flowers are shaped like a saucer and a golden tea cup in the centre. Their perfume is vibrant, fresh, honeyed, backed with a gentle and rather warm crushed-leaf greenness. Their scent is that of wild flowers and freedom: redolent of Mediterranean showers, jumping in the puddles, and discovering sunshine again after a day of rain.
True piece of nature's art and alchemy.

Mediterranean Scents

Ines of All I Am A Redhead has invited me and a bunch of other fragrance bloggers to write about the scents of the Mediterranean the world over. I can't think of a better summer topic so this will be a bit of a nostalgic summer post for me. Although thanks to the warmish weather, I'm able to enjoy the beach this year - both sand and swimming - on a daily basis.

Of course, there is no comparison between the two. The Pacific ocean is deep and vast, and in the Pacific Northwest it rarely reaches temperatures that make it hypothermia-risk-free. Even in the middle of the summer when it’s relatively warm it doesn’t even reach room temperature… The Mediterranean, on the other hand, is like a little kid’s pool in comparison, and just as warm. That comes with all kinds of interesting “side effects” which I have learned to associate with oceans and sea. Therefore am always a bit disappointed at the lack of them here, even though I live way closer to the ocean here than when I lived in Israel. So lets’ begin with the most important Mediterranean scent of them all – the scent of the sea itself.

Sea salt, Seaweed and Fish
When approaching the sea, there is always a strong scent of seaweed, sea salt and fish. This smells is every so much fainter here by the Pacific ocean. Party because it is so much colder at any given moment. But also for some reason I think the water here is far less salty (the melting icebergs, perhaps?).

When arriving at the beach, no matter where – up north (Banana Beach aka Achziv beach, near Kibbutz Achziv in the Western Galilee), in Tel Aviv or down south in the dunes near Ashkelon – there is an intense sense of freedom and mystery the moment that sea smell hits the nose. It’s a vibrant scent that combines the water evaporating from the salty sea, the warming seaweed and algae dancing in its azure waters, the fish (dead or alive) that inhabit its warm and friendly water. And than there is the endless erosion of anything that’s built close to the sea: the buildings get literally eaten by the salty air. Rust forms on all the fences and window bars. And even stone seems to be eaten by the salty kiss of the balmy ocean breezes.

And than there are the amazing fresh seafood restaurants right by the water in the ancient port cities – Jaffa, Akko – you can eat the fish right after it was caught by the fishermen and it’s usually simply prepared by pan-frying and served with fresh lemon wedges. I’m not a fish eater, but walks on the old ports of this ancient cities seems incomplete without getting a whiff of the catch of the day being cooked and served right by the water and the boats. And if there could be any good place to eat fish, that would be it – right where it was caught. The one rare occasion when I felt deeply compelled to try fish was on the water of another Mediterranean beach – at a seafront restaurant in Cannes.

First Rain
Rainfall is sacred and sparse in the region, and there is always a special smell after it hit the ground first after the long dry summer. Unlike British Columbia, where rain can happen any day and any time of the year, it usually only rains in the winter. And in that transition between late fall and winter, the arrival of the first rain is so magical that we even have a special name for it in Hebrew (Yoreh).

Olives and Olive Oil
After the first rain arrives, it washes away the dust from all the plants, including the olive branches and the fruit on it, that should reach optimal ripeness by this time and becomes ready for picking. A trace of the smell of fresh green olives remains in virgin olive oil. But it is so much stonger when you slash the green olives or crack them in preparation for pickling. Pickeld green olives, black olives in brine and virgin olive oil are the best ways to enjoy olives. There are lots of mediocre quality olives spread the world over, but those who come from the true olive regions in the world are very picky and know how to pick them. A real olive should have character in both texture and flavour. If you can’t figure it out, find someone who knows to show you what a real olive should be like…

And as for olive oil – it should be fragrant as well, and can be used in so many other ways besides food. I’ve already written about this before in my article Virtues of Olive Oil.
There are not too many perfumes that have an actual olive note in them. The only one that I know of with a true olive fruit note in it is being discontinued – Cognac by Aftelier.

Lemon
Not a native of the Mediterranean region, but it certainly made itself at home there. It has become such a staple in our kitchens and a favourite just as much if not more than the oranges. And when it’s not available or in season everyone is in panic and helpless about hwo to dress their salads. Vegetables are a staple food, unlike North America where everyone overeats starch, we love our vegetables in the Mediterranean sea, because they taste so fine; nevertheless, they taste better with lemons!
And speaking of citrus, one perfume which I find particularly Mediterranean is non other than Eau d’Orange Vert. I’ve been wearing it all summer this year and found it to be (surprise surprise!) not boring at all. I usually find citrus scents to bore me to tears, but not this one.

Basil
Growing basil in a sun-drenched garden results in a very fragrant, potent, spicy and flavourful herb that makes any pesto or salad or dish taste amazing. There is something about basil that is just plain pleasurable and cheerful, whether on a pizza or in a perfume. Perhaps this is why I love Le Parfum de Thérèse so much. It’s such a true Mediterranean perfume – perhaps one of the very few that can be worn in the excess of heat as well.
Eau Sauvage is another basil-infused perfume that is refreshing and classy. And it also reminds me another thing I love about the Mediterranean region: men actually take the effort to smell good, rather than try hard to not have any scent at all (the North American way)

Tomatoes
Also to go with your olives and basil… Tomatoes are the first thing Israeli like to complain about after they arrive in Canada (well, probably not the first, actually… They will first complain that everyone don’t speak Hebrew). But certainly, after the first visit to the grocery store, seeing the price and how disproportionate it is to the lack of flavour of the coveted fruit, they seek refuge in complaining about it. That being said, Israelis have been complaining about tomatoes for generations now. It seems like every generation, the tomatoes become worse than the previous one. Growing up, we grew our own tomatoes, and the variety we grew was not the Roma tomatoes (over there the variety is called “Moneymaker”) but “Mary Monde”, which is more juicy and flavourful and very offly shaped, with a little of yellow hued stripes on their skins. These were good tomatoes. What you find in most of the markets in Israel is a far cry from what a tomato should and could be. The heirloom tomatoes sold at the Farmer’s Markets here in British Columbia are actually better. And of course, they also cost a fortune and you have to line up at 8am on Saturday to get any of them. And than they rot way too fast in your fridge. That is when the complaining portion of this post ends. And to continue with the tomatoes raving – could there be any more exciting and fun scent than that of tomato vines? Anything more summery? There are some perfumes with that note, but not many (i.e.: the ones I know of are Yerbamate
and Folavril; but the only one in which it is actually noticeable is l’Ombre Dans l’Eau).


Figs
Also a novelty of summer, green figs are the most vividly fragrant fruit, and must be eaten as soon as possible after they have been picked, before they’ve lost their aroma. Philosykos is the closest perfume to capture this little piece of heaven.

Mountain Treasures: Wild Mountain Thyme, Hyssop, Bay, White Mint, Sage and Labdanum
Wild herbas are even more exciting than basil, because they grow wild and you find them when you don’t expect them. And of course they are a culinary gem in the form of bouquet garni… or in more unusual places like desserts (chocolate with thyme?) and perfumes (many Chypre perfumes have sage in them, for example, my favourite Miss Dior).

But of course the most important mountain herb of them all is not really an herb, but the resin that emanates from the rockrose bush, and that is called labdanum. Perfumes would not be what they are today with this precious sweet balsamic resinous scent that is ambery and sun-warmed and beautiful. It forms the base of all ambers, ambery orientals and chypres.

Grapes and Wine
Spirit was celebrated in the region so much that there are deities in charge of wine (Bacchus or Dionysus). Growing grapes was not exactly ideal where we lived (too humid I think?) and the grapes pretty much turned into wine on the vines, unless the birds got a hold of them first. The sour fermented grapes heating on the vine tucked away from birds inside paper bags makes for a strange olfactory memory… Though it is probably a smell that many of you are familiar with if you ever visited a winery.

Wheat and Freshly Baked Bread
Wheat was a blessing, and bread was sacred. Bread is the most basic food of the region, and wheat is the basic grain. There was none of the nonsense of “wheat intolerance” and anti-wheat movement when I was growing up. And the most plain bread in Israel, the one subsidized by the government, actually tastes pretty darn good… Actually, not too far from some fancy sour doughs sold here in artisanal bakeries.
Another scent I miss a lot is the freshly baked bread in all grocery stores, supermarkets and corner stores. When I was taking a tour-guiding course in Jerusalem after finishing high school (I was supposed to become a tour-guide in the army, go figure…) we were set up in an apartment right next to the largest bakeries in the country. We thought the location was perfect and there was no doubt that besides the convenience of getting fresh warm bread every morning, we will also be smelling its fine aroma for hours every morning. It filled the whole neighbourhood!

Cold Stones
Catacombs, caves, chapels, arched souks and stone paved streets in ancient stone-built cities – these all bring a coolness to this hot region. And there is a certain musty mystery to it that is difficult to explain unless you smelled it. Perhaps it’s similar to vetiver, or even patchouli. But it certainly gets better when the walls have soaked hundreds of years of frankincense and myrrh burning smoke. And than there are also the cold marble floors (or any tile for that matter, because in that area, our homes are made of real bricks and stones and cement, and the floors are tiled, and therefore they can also be cleaned properly! Sorry, I did not mean to rant again besides the tomatoes. But what's with the wall-to-wall carpets everywhere here? How do you expect to have a clean home when it's floors are covered in dirt-and-dust-sponge?!
We don't just mop our floors, we wash them with water, and soap, and wipe them dry till they are shiny. At least once a week. It's a ritual. And it makes the home smells clean (usually like lemon).

And that brings me to the 12th and not the least important scent:

Linen and Cotton From The Laundry Line
Fresh laundry from the laundry lines is not as soft as that from the North American dryers, but it sure feels stiff, crisp and clean. It soaked sun and fresh air (and probably also whatever pollution there is in the region now, but who cares, it feels clean). And of course, whatever scent is in the laundry detergent, though this is secondary.

And last aside note: in Israel, I rarely felt the need to wear perfume. Everything is perfumed, or has a smell. At the end of hot days, the buses are filled with those few inconsiderate people who don't wear deodorant; and in contrast - in the morning or evenings, everybody's soap and shampoos seem to trail behind them with balmy air moving the scent around swiftly and freely. Come to think of it: there are also really bad smells everywhere, which make the pretty scents such as orange blossoms and dry wheat and hay fields on a summer night smell that much more beautiful.

Visit the other participating blogs:
Perfume Shrine
All I Am A Redhead
Bonkers About Perfume
I Smell Therefore I Am
Notes from the Ledge
Olfactarama
Suzanne's Perfume Blog
The Non Blonde
Waft by Carol
Hortus Conclusus
A Rose Beyond The Thames
Katie Puckrik Smells
Perfume in Progress
Roxana's Illuminated Journal
Scent Hive
Under The Cupola
Back to the top