Acqua di Cuba Santa Maria Novella

Santa Maria Novella is a brand with colognes in what feels like 2 million fragrance directions, very beautiful bottles, and just as many fans in this forum. So far, I have tested and reviewed the Russian and Sicilian colognes, both of which I liked but didn't blow me away (8 points each).

Now, Cuba. Many people have a very intimate relationship with this island, whether it's through Buena Vista music, snorkeling tourism, Che Guevara revolution, erotically (everyone can think of their own addition), Havana cigars, Cuba Libre cocktails, or perhaps there are vintage car enthusiasts or undercover Santería priests in exile with (eyes closed, Pollita!) bloody chickens roaming around, who knows.

None of that applies to me; for me, Cuba as a place of longing holds the same significance as Haiti or the Dominican Republic, which is none at all. Therefore, this scent must score 100% on genuine intrinsic fragrance qualities for me, and it does quite well.

This fragrance has little to do with a cologne. I would say it's primarily the name and secondarily a kind of cologne quote, namely a hint of bright yellow kitchen lemon with a finely robust green-herbaceous undertone (probably the muscatel sage from the base note, peeking up mischievously). Interestingly, it's not noticeable right at the beginning but rather after a few minutes, like a splash of my beloved 'yellow' Alvarez Gomez.

Otherwise, it's not really a cologne: A very respectable longevity (definitely over six hours), decent projection, and very little summer freshness.

Instead, there's a lot of honey. A whole lot of honey. Perhaps the cologne with the most honey in the entire world. Until yesterday, I also didn't know what honey had to do with Cuba. I googled the combination of the two search terms and found that Cuba has become a major honey exporter. The country is so poor that it has no money for pesticides, so many bees still live on the island, which have fallen victim to the great species extinction elsewhere. So, there is also a lot of honey, practically in organic quality by default, and that brings in foreign currency. Whether the creators had this in mind when naming this cologne, I obviously don't know.

This honey is also not a dark forest honey, but some tropical honey, in which the floral heaviness of its raw materials is congenially preserved. Quite sweet and quite lush, almost voluptuous, or do you spell that with two l's? Anyway, voluptuous actually sounds more voluptuous.

Additionally, there's also men's soap and leathery-spicy tobacco, claro, but here I am not overwhelmed by images of smoked tobacco or dry leaves (though I am no cigar expert), but rather, due to the sweetness and soft warmth, of freshly harvested leaves of a mild variety, and perhaps tobacco flowers.

Aside from the mentioned "splash" of Alvarez Gomez, another fragrance similarity that comes to mind is Rappelle-Toi by L'Artisan Parfumeur, due to the honey-flower combo (though without tobacco there).

Conclusion: Clear recommendation for purchase for all honey lovers, Cuba (not Kaba!) fanatics, and people who want a cologne in their collection but hate colognes.