HIRIS may seem aloof at first, cool and with a paper-like texture. It pairs two of the most dangerously anosmiac notes – orris and musk – and therefore it may not be as satisfying as it could be to some individuals. The first thing I noticed about Hiris is that it’s a really bad idea to try it on paper – even more than other perfumes. It smells like paper, and the scent becomes completely camouflaged on the scent stripe. The second thing I noticed was that when applied to my skin, it smelled surprisingly of cedar (and slightly green at that), and at the same time also very gourmand – like flour, or more accurately, certain Morrocan semolina cookie that my step-grandmother used to make (she called them “sweet patties” but I don’t know the real name and can’t find anything about it at the moment; I will need to find a good Moroccan recipe book next time I am in Israel). These cookies are only slightly sweetened with honey, and flavoured with coriander and a tinge of fennel. The spices strangely complement the interesting, sand-like gritty texture of the cookie, as the semolina crumbs don’t-quite-dissolve in your mouth while the butter and honey melt on your tongue… I love perfumes that smell gourmand but are not really sweet. I only wish this gourmand phase could have lasted longer in Hiris…

The initial introduction of flour and rice paper moves to the background faster than I would have liked it to be, and reveals a delicate scent of tiny blossoms – a delicate, almost fragile lily of the valley, in which the scent of the flower’s stems and leaves provide an underlining cool greenness such as of dew-laden flowers in early morning, when the scent is not at its peak yet. The result is so remote from lily of the valley that it is easily interpreted as the scent of white iris petals unfolding after the rain and releasing their scent surrounded by damp branches and dried stems which are found near a pond, where the iris rhizome develop their strange, watery-coolness and aloof powdery-earthiness.

The dry down (which arrives faster than expected), is musky with a hint of opoponax and slightly vanillic, which makes it warm and a lot more approachable than it may be expected. The only downside of this perfume for me is it’s unsatisfactory lasting power. I need to reapply almost every hour to be able to notice it’s there. But also let’s not forget that I want to remember biting into those cookies again, and again, and again…

Top notes: bergamot, mandarin, coriander, rosewood
Heart notes: orris, lily of the valley, jasmine, ylang-ylang, rose
Base notes: cedar, musk, vanilla

The pastries in the photo above are nothing like the "sweet patties" (which I could find no image of recipe of yet) in their barely-there sweetness and the interesting spices, but nevertheless are another favourite Middle Eastern semolina pastry which I love its flavour as well as texture - and happen to know how to make. It is called Harissa, of all things. Like many other Middle Easter pastires (i.e.: baklava), this pastry is baked without sugar, and is sweetened only after baking (and while still hot), by soaking it in Honey Syrup.
So here comes the recipe:


HARISSA
Sweet Semulina and Honey cake from the Middle East


For the Honey Syrup:

1 ½ cups Sugar
½ cup Water
1 Tbs. Lemon Juice
1 ½ Tbs. Rosewater (or Orange Flower Water)
75gr. Butter

- Boil the wataer, sugar and lemon juice until it thickens and covers a spoon. Remove from heat and melt in the butter. Add the rosewater. Set aside and cool down to room temprature.s

For the Dough:
2 ½ cups Semulina (aka Cream of Wheat – yes, the same one used as a breakfast cereal in the West, but be sure to not get the “healthy” variety, with the bran… It should be as white as sand in Hawaii)
1 cup finally shredded coconut (unsweetened)
½ cup all-purpose unbleached white flour
1 Tbs. pure vanilla extract
1 Tbs. baking powder
75 gr. Butter
1 ½ cup Buttermilk
Blanched almonds for decoration

- Preheat oven to 180 Celsius
- In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients (flour, semolina, coconut, and baking powder)
- Cut the (cold) butter into small pieces and add to the dry mixture
- Rub with your fingers until the little crumbs form
- Pour in the buttermilk and vanilla extract, and mix well until a dough forms
- Line a 9” round spring-pan with parchment paper, and press the dough evenly in the pan
- Cut the unbaked cake (before baking) into diagonal lines, to create diamond shapes
- Press one blanched almond onto each diamond
- Bake in the oven for 40 minutes (or until the edges of the cake turns gold)
- When the cake is still HOT, pour the cool syrup onto the cake, gradually – to allow all the syrup to soak in evenly and thoroughly

There are two floral notes that remind me of a flower shop – carnations and freesias. There may be the occasional lily-of-the-valley in springtime that has scent in the flower shops too, but only these can be found almost year around, and actually have a scent besides flower-fridge-aroma. The other thing they have in common are their close relationship with spices – carnation’s eugenol makes it smell very much like cloves, and freesias have a generous dosage of freshly ground green and white peppers.

Dyptique’s Ofresia is a scent that just showed up in my mailbox one day, waiting to be appreciated. I liked it right away – for its simple freshness and pleasant presence. Without being ambitious, Ofresia is the best freesia I ever smelled, with all its peppery spiciness and green freshness. It is also sweetened with a very subdued vanilla base note, which is probably why it is one of the most wearable green perfumes I ever tried*. Ofresia is cheerful, dewy and lighthearted. It can make you feel like the orange background of the photo above, or like freshly ground white and green garden.

* I seldom reach for green perfumes. I love green scents in nature, but when bottled, I often have an adverse reaction to extreme greenness, despite my efforts to make peace with them.