24
Top Review
Translated
Show original
Seasoned cuttings
Such a sonorous name (both of the supplier and of the fragrance) wouldn't have made me expect to have to deal with green-spicy mush at the beginning: An old lawn cut that may wander into the brown ton after a few days in a plastic bag. Already lightly snapped through, with a few nettles and leaves in between.
A hint of fruit fades before I have a chance to sort it out. My first thought does not go in the direction of citrus, but is fig, as if it were an interface to the topic of green. In addition a gentle earth nutiness.
But those are side issues. The second main actor next to the persistent green is a rather strong, intensively mortard-out spice, in which I cannot recognize any details at first. I sign the cream contribution diagnosed by Fluxit (thank you very much for the sample!) after barely half an hour, but it remains the accompaniment of a seasoning mélange that almost touches the leather as it progresses. In the further course of the morning it becomes more authentic spicy again, so to speak - even though this stubbornly less attaches itself to concretely identifiable aromas, but rather seems to come from an increase in essential oil.
Thyme does not peel out until around noon. Yet he does not master the scent, does not become edible. On the following test day I smell him with the knowledge of it earlier, there he stretches his feelers ahead into the front hours. His broader body parts, on the other hand, definitely belong to the afternoon. That's a hell of a lot in the second half. My last candidate with a similar abundance of thyme was Serge Lutens' Ambre Sultan. He had an overdose of it in his luggage up front. Mixes quite strangely with the composty-green part.
Conclusion: Despite the heap of thyme, 'Omeyocan' does not become gourmandig, not even as a kitchen herb gourmand I would call him. That can be considered a respectable achievement. However, I apparently lack the understanding for this combination of compost and Mediterranean spice.
A hint of fruit fades before I have a chance to sort it out. My first thought does not go in the direction of citrus, but is fig, as if it were an interface to the topic of green. In addition a gentle earth nutiness.
But those are side issues. The second main actor next to the persistent green is a rather strong, intensively mortard-out spice, in which I cannot recognize any details at first. I sign the cream contribution diagnosed by Fluxit (thank you very much for the sample!) after barely half an hour, but it remains the accompaniment of a seasoning mélange that almost touches the leather as it progresses. In the further course of the morning it becomes more authentic spicy again, so to speak - even though this stubbornly less attaches itself to concretely identifiable aromas, but rather seems to come from an increase in essential oil.
Thyme does not peel out until around noon. Yet he does not master the scent, does not become edible. On the following test day I smell him with the knowledge of it earlier, there he stretches his feelers ahead into the front hours. His broader body parts, on the other hand, definitely belong to the afternoon. That's a hell of a lot in the second half. My last candidate with a similar abundance of thyme was Serge Lutens' Ambre Sultan. He had an overdose of it in his luggage up front. Mixes quite strangely with the composty-green part.
Conclusion: Despite the heap of thyme, 'Omeyocan' does not become gourmandig, not even as a kitchen herb gourmand I would call him. That can be considered a respectable achievement. However, I apparently lack the understanding for this combination of compost and Mediterranean spice.
19 Comments
Meggi
