Cambodian oud05/22/2025
ClaireV
731 Reviews
ClaireV
1
Deep cherry fruit leather oud
If you've ever smelled Ensar's Kambodi 1976, then you kind of know what to expect with one of these vintage Cambodis - the sharp berry jam notes and often metallic or stale 'off notes' you get from modern, hastily distilled Cambodi-style oils are nowhere in sight, because somebody took their time with this back in the day and it's been sitting, chilling out in a big ole glass jar in someone's cupboard for the past 38 years, percolating and macerating until every single note is round, polished, and chewy, like ancient armoires rubbed and stained with cherry juice until they emit this low wattage glow. It's rare, honest to goodness Cambodi oud oil, not just Cambodi-style oud oil, which most Cambodis on the market are - nope, this is oil squeezed from the original stock of A. Crassna trees that had between 50 and 80 years to grow those thick, crystallized-with-time globules of oleoresin before they got within spitting distance of a still. A genuine rarity.
But first, the opening, which smells surprising to me, because it smells exactly like cherry antibiotic syrup poured over iron fillings. Berries, sure, but also medicine, which is appropriate given that that dark oleoresin is the tree's natural antibodies against an invading fungus. I say 'surprising' because usually vintage oils skip over any topnote and delve straight into a round, burnished heart, worn smooth over the decades. But this is quite vivid, like big red daubs of gouache thrown over a canvas. It smells, oh, bloody juicy, like moving a mouthful of cherries in iron syrup from one side of your mouth to the other. It is thick and varnishy and fruity but fruit whose sharp edges have been sanded down, like a piece of wood rubbed so thickly with beeswax or saddle soap that its splinters and original grain are obscured from view. Smooth like butter, round as a ball. This is an incredibly approachable oud, but then Cambodis are friendly by nature.
This is definitely more of an oud-oil-in-alcohol than the Indonesian oud, in that it wears and stains as if it was a pure oil, but with easier spreadability (if that's a thing) because of the alcohol carrier. The aroma is thick, multi-faceted, and though I've been wearing it on my non-Indonesian Oud-scented arm only for the past four hours, I see no signs of it crapping out any time soon. Maybe it is not quite as thick or ropey as a pure oil, but neither is it as thin or as cosmetically elegant as Abdul Samad Al Qurashi's Dahn Oud Anteeq (the older, sprayable version, not the 2020 rebranded version). It has a lot of body and 'tack' to it.
I must say, the way this dries down is just divine. Because the oil is so old and round, the level of fermentation is quite subtle, just lightly tart rather than sour or pissy. And the texture is chewy, barely sweet, toothsome almost, like a cracked old log of wood held together by warm road tar that stretches into licorice-like strings the minute you move it. This is a scent that oozes comfort from every pore. It is slightly smoky too, not like the campfire and soot of the Indonesian oil, but more the faint smokiness left in the air when a car skids on the road or as you pass a freshly laid stretch of asphalt.
But first, the opening, which smells surprising to me, because it smells exactly like cherry antibiotic syrup poured over iron fillings. Berries, sure, but also medicine, which is appropriate given that that dark oleoresin is the tree's natural antibodies against an invading fungus. I say 'surprising' because usually vintage oils skip over any topnote and delve straight into a round, burnished heart, worn smooth over the decades. But this is quite vivid, like big red daubs of gouache thrown over a canvas. It smells, oh, bloody juicy, like moving a mouthful of cherries in iron syrup from one side of your mouth to the other. It is thick and varnishy and fruity but fruit whose sharp edges have been sanded down, like a piece of wood rubbed so thickly with beeswax or saddle soap that its splinters and original grain are obscured from view. Smooth like butter, round as a ball. This is an incredibly approachable oud, but then Cambodis are friendly by nature.
This is definitely more of an oud-oil-in-alcohol than the Indonesian oud, in that it wears and stains as if it was a pure oil, but with easier spreadability (if that's a thing) because of the alcohol carrier. The aroma is thick, multi-faceted, and though I've been wearing it on my non-Indonesian Oud-scented arm only for the past four hours, I see no signs of it crapping out any time soon. Maybe it is not quite as thick or ropey as a pure oil, but neither is it as thin or as cosmetically elegant as Abdul Samad Al Qurashi's Dahn Oud Anteeq (the older, sprayable version, not the 2020 rebranded version). It has a lot of body and 'tack' to it.
I must say, the way this dries down is just divine. Because the oil is so old and round, the level of fermentation is quite subtle, just lightly tart rather than sour or pissy. And the texture is chewy, barely sweet, toothsome almost, like a cracked old log of wood held together by warm road tar that stretches into licorice-like strings the minute you move it. This is a scent that oozes comfort from every pore. It is slightly smoky too, not like the campfire and soot of the Indonesian oil, but more the faint smokiness left in the air when a car skids on the road or as you pass a freshly laid stretch of asphalt.
