Caravansérail Intense Nicolaï 2023

Before my stay in Israel, I was largely unfamiliar with the combination of coffee and cardamom. I knew that some people spice their hot drink with it, but I associated cardamom more with Christmas baking and Kanelbullar, Swedish cinnamon rolls. Since Israel, I have developed almost an obsession: whenever possible, cardamom MUST be in the coffee. Since I usually grind the beans fresh, I simply toss in a few cardamom pods that get ground up with them. The moment I open the lid and the scent of freshly ground coffee, infused with strong cardamom aromas, envelops me, it triggers a kind of olfactory orgasm in my nose every time - WOW!!
Simply stunning, this scent, yes, it is even better than the subsequent taste experience.

In this sense, it is only natural that I am particularly interested in perfumes that capture this olfactory experience: "Chypre Shot" would be one such case, a dream for me as a chypre junkie, but also "Tambour Sacré," a somewhat demanding, dry-oriental tuberose bomb, and also "Ruh" by Pekji, which takes a strong rose at its center.
Patricia de Nicolaï's latest creation, "Caravansérail Intense," now also attempts this, showcasing it as the defining main accord, albeit in a completely different olfactory setting than in my kitchen with the freshly opened grinder lid.

At first, berry and plum brandy notes are part of the mix, as if alongside the cardamom spice, a splash of slivovitz has found its way into the coffee, which has also been flavored with a pinch of cocoa.
Admittedly, I would have preferred the rough, untamed coffee-cardamom blast here rather than this sublimation attempt, but on the other hand, a Nicolaï scent would not be a Nicolaï scent if it were not characterized by this very sublimation. Of course, it all smells more sophisticated, complex, and noble than from my old grinder, but the sensual impact does unfortunately get somewhat lost, and the olfactory orgasm fades away during the foreplay.
But well, there is a difference between a scent and a perfume, and - free after Wowi - that's a good thing too.

What Madame makes of it further along is truly worthy of all honor - she can do it, as proven countless times, and here as well.
"Caravansérail" is a typical Nicolaï scent, equipped with a kind of Nicolaï DNA: a interplay of vanilla and tonka, accompanied by a bit of patchouli and a hint of cinnamon. This base can be found in hardly noticeable variations in many creations of the Guerlain descendant, such as "Vanille Tonka," "Maharadjah," "Sacrebleu," "Patchouli Intense," "Vanille Intense," and even in her iconic "New York." One could almost speak of a Nicolaïade, corresponding to the famous Guerlinade, which wafts towards us exemplarily in her new work.
Of course, it all smells wonderful, sublime, and with much French finesse, only, as I said: for me as a hardcore cardamom coffee fan, all those fruity and vanilla/tonka sweet garlands could have been spared. I drink my coffee black, without sugar and other spicing ingredients like cinnamon or clove - I don't need any of that, just cardamom. But "Caravansérail" is not meant to be drunk - which brings me back to scent (or taste) versus perfume.
No, it is all good as it is.

Recently, an English-speaking reviewer stated that "Caravansérail" is terribly masculine, almost harsh and extremely bitter. I don't know if we smelled the same fragrance, but in my perception, none of that applies. Especially at the beginning, "Caravansérail" is strikingly fruity, and the accompanying cocoa note contributes a gourmand sweetness that is ultimately picked up and extended by the vanilla/tonka base.
What one might perceive as bitter is the anchor accord itself: both coffee and cardamom are dry-spicy kaleidoscopic aroma complexes, as is the clearly recognizable patchouli, as well as a faint hint of immortelle towards the end, which could have been a bit more pronounced for my taste. All of them are bitter fragrance components, oh yes, but does that make the scent masculine?
No, I don't think so.

The scent that hits me from my grinder may be masculine: angular and rough through crunchy roasting aromas, coarsely striking with the bitter-soapy spice, but exactly this rough attack has been skillfully smoothed out, softened, and leveled by the perfumer, so that the scent can be worn by any gender, which the reviewer, of course, sees quite differently, as she can only imagine it on a man.
Strange, could it perhaps be due to the lack of flowers? No jasmine, no lilac, no ylang-ylang, nothing supposedly 'feminine'?
Maybe.
Whatever.

For me, "Caravansérail" is neither one nor the other, but a successful liaison of bitter spice, berry-plum sweetness, an elegant oriental base, along with a tolerable gourmand drift, typically blended and refined in a Nicolaï artisanal manner - what more could one want?!

Bravo!