Eau de Quinine Crown Perfumery 1890

What "Quinine" is all about, I would not have known without the explanations from my esteemed predecessor and donor of the sample (thank you very much!) Taurus1967. Quinine - aha. It fits not only surprisingly well but strikingly perfectly.

I don't know how pure quinine smells, but Eau de Quinine really smells completely like Bitter Lemon for a minute or two. That fades away soon, but it is nonetheless a lot of fun. I feel like I'm in an olfactory lesson on the construction of the aforementioned refreshing drink made from the three mentioned ingredients. First: fuzzy-astringent bergamot. Second: coriander - as an herb. A great spice that I once worked with while making curry paste. This one needs to go soon; it has been sitting for a while, albeit for a good reason, as it is now more bitter, spicier, and not quite as ethereal as fresh. Third: petitgrain as a bittersweet base.

The expression "fades away" regarding the progression refers only to the sparkling Bitter Lemon impression in the narrower sense and does not imply any loss in the pleasure of the scent. There is no talk of that; the next originality bite is just around the corner. A green note makes itself known in the background. Coriander, yes, fresh and green - we've already had that. My new note is additionally rather dark-nutty. Even more bitter. Parsley would be an idea. Indeed, parsley.

A supposed woodruff/coumarin twist quickly turns out to be caused by the petitgrain. It's amazing how light it comes across for a long time. Exceptionally charming. Nutmeg is fine, as long as you know it; other bitter-aromatic spice notes are also conceivable. All together, surprisingly, it results in a beautifully clean, yet not at all soapy impression that lasts for several hours. This parsley note is completely quirky. I can't figure out what else it could be. I find it fantastic and wonderfully meaningful in context.

A hint of Bitter Lemon remains conceivable throughout the day, probably because the corresponding initial stimulus was set so skillfully. Perhaps the drink has become a bit stale - which should not be a qualitative statement.

With anticipatory sighs, I had expected the threatened "powdery notes" of the base, as that is not at all my taste. The worries were exaggerated. The last part is not too powdery. The sparkling aspect of the petitgrain recedes, and the scent gradually becomes noticeably rougher (patchouli, moss) and a tad soapier starting from the third hour. Nevertheless, its fresh and, with - albeit significantly increasing - concessions, still fruity character remains for six to seven hours and carries me quite well through the workday.

And what does Calpurnia's grandfather have to do with this? The associations described in the opening comment (which I certainly do not share in terms of grumpiness) reminded me of a passage from "Calpurnia's (R)evolutionary Discoveries." A book from my daughter's collection. It is about a nearly twelve-year-old girl in 1899 who, instead of willingly or resignedly following the prescribed path of 'playing the piano - being neat - getting married - starting a family,' prefers to engage with natural science and finds an ally in her science-enthusiast grandfather.

He naturally has exemplary manners, very much a gentleman of the old school, but that doesn't stop him from bringing the conversation to offbeat topics at evening gatherings and, for example, describing the mating behavior of opiliones - the harvestmen - to a group of ladies.

Eau de Quinine also has excellent manners but knows how to demand in close combat.

Conclusion: A gem. Classically gentlemanly and gently original-quirky at the same time. It's a shame that it has been discontinued.