Acqua Santa Linari 2010

It simply wasn't Brother Donato's day. First, he had fallen asleep during the morning mass and had snored loudly, which, although not considered a violation of the vow of silence, given that the Holy Father had so richly "blessed" him with polyps, was certainly inappropriate. Later, while working in the herb garden, he had cut his finger deeply with the garden shears and stained his robe in a frantic effort to stop the bleeding. After getting a band-aid and a tetanus shot from Brother Sanitus (screams of pain were also exempt from the vow of silence, as long as they consisted only of vowels), he went to the monastery laundry to fetch a clean robe. Of course, the robes with the practical pockets were all gone again... and then for lunch, they had kale. He hated kale. The abbot placed a note next to his plate: "Clean the holy water basin." Great. The penance for snoring. But first, Brother Donato decided he had rightfully earned a delicious dessert after so much suffering, even if it meant breaking the 7th commandment: You shall not steal. Actually, it wasn't really theft if he sneaked into the kitchen to treat himself to a little comfort food, since the groceries there had been legally purchased for the brothers. He was just circumventing the weekly meal plan.
With his loot, a mango, he finally made it unnoticed into the sacristy to fetch fresh holy water, the Acqua Santa. He was just about to take a hearty bite of the juicy-sweet fruit when he heard the door open behind him. Oh dear. Quick, quick, hide the mango in his pocket... Crucifix, the robe had no pockets! Brother Donato briefly wondered if thinking a curse was actually a violation of the 2nd commandment, but then he decisively let the mango plop into the holy water.

And that could be the story of why "Acqua Santa" smells like mango. Canned mango, to be precise. It deeply irritates me in light of the fragrance pyramid, but it is so: I smell a sugary-sweet, ripe mango. It lasts about 2 hours before this fruit accord, which is actually not present but still distinctly noticeable, shifts to a woody scent. On the skin. On clothing, the mango lingers easily until the next day. I can still sense a sensually spicy rose and a bit of tonka bean as accompaniment, but the rest: mango, as much as it pains me.
Whether it was the dear God who had a hand in this and took pleasure in making these fragrance components smell like mango in this combination? Mango or not, Linaris Acqua Santa has nothing to do with cold stone walls or incense. It smells more like the Garden of Eden: lush, juicy, sensual, fruity, warm, and simply delicious enough to bite into.