Top Notes 
Cognac
Cream
Vanilla meringue
Heart Notes 
Caramel
Cotton candy
Mousse de vanille
Base Notes 
Ambergris
Vanilla
Elysium
898 Reviews
Elysium
2
A Fragrance Memoir of Cherries and Cognac
The moment Caramello Dorato, a niche gourmand perfume, touches my skin, time bends. I’m transported through decades—not by machine, but by molecular memory. It’s a visceral portal to those summer mornings in my grandparents’ kitchen, where preservation was not just process but alchemy.
My grandmother’s apricot jam—that ambrosial nectar of summer sunshine captured in glass—remains etched in my sensory memory. Those impossibly plump fruits from their garden, bursting with honeyed sweetness, created a fragrance so intoxicating it perfumed the entire house with promises of preserved sunlight.
But it was always the cognac cherries that stirred the deepest emotions. Initially unappreciated, mysteriously magnetic, their transformation from forbidden fruit to nostalgic treasure mirrors my own journey through time. Each stolen cherry from those evening jars was a quiet rebellion, a secret communion between child and flavor, silently condoned by watchful grandparents.
Caramello Dorato opens with a bold harmony of milk cream and vanilla meringue—not as isolated notes, but a single, textural impression. The cognac cherry accord emerges not as simple fruit but as spirit-soaked richness, dancing between sweetness and warmth. It’s the crystallization of innocence meeting complexity—childhood wonder preserved in alcoholic amber. It is a creamy booziness, like the one you feel when sipping a Baileys Irish Cream or similar.
As the composition unfolds, clouds of cotton candy billow—not with carnival simplicity, but with gossamer lightness. The caramel accord deepens gradually, like memories revealing themselves over time. Vanilla mousse offers cushioned intimacy—not merely sweet, but enveloping, echoing the warmth of familial affection.
The foundation reveals matured vanilla pods—not the sugary upper notes of candy vanilla, but the woody, spiced soul of the real thing. Ambergris weaves in quietly, adding animalic depth and saline complexity, grounding the fragrance in something primal and unexpectedly refined.
Spring coaxes out the meringue-like lift, mirroring blooming trees. In summer heat, the cognac’s warmth grows more radiant—like sunlight through amber glass jars. Autumn draws out the caramel’s burnished sweetness, comforting as turning leaves. Winter allows the ambergris to surface, providing mysterious warmth like memories we cling to through the barren months.
Caramello Dorato transcends fragrance. It’s olfactory necromancy—resurrecting not just scents but the emotional landscapes they once shaped. Each application becomes less about adornment and more about communion with sensory ghosts. Some may call it a gourmand perfume. But those who understand know it’s something else: bottled nostalgia, preserved time, and proof that our deepest connections can be relived through the ancient, alchemical language of scent.
I’ve owned a bottle since April 2025, and my experience is based on it.
-Elysium
My grandmother’s apricot jam—that ambrosial nectar of summer sunshine captured in glass—remains etched in my sensory memory. Those impossibly plump fruits from their garden, bursting with honeyed sweetness, created a fragrance so intoxicating it perfumed the entire house with promises of preserved sunlight.
But it was always the cognac cherries that stirred the deepest emotions. Initially unappreciated, mysteriously magnetic, their transformation from forbidden fruit to nostalgic treasure mirrors my own journey through time. Each stolen cherry from those evening jars was a quiet rebellion, a secret communion between child and flavor, silently condoned by watchful grandparents.
Caramello Dorato opens with a bold harmony of milk cream and vanilla meringue—not as isolated notes, but a single, textural impression. The cognac cherry accord emerges not as simple fruit but as spirit-soaked richness, dancing between sweetness and warmth. It’s the crystallization of innocence meeting complexity—childhood wonder preserved in alcoholic amber. It is a creamy booziness, like the one you feel when sipping a Baileys Irish Cream or similar.
As the composition unfolds, clouds of cotton candy billow—not with carnival simplicity, but with gossamer lightness. The caramel accord deepens gradually, like memories revealing themselves over time. Vanilla mousse offers cushioned intimacy—not merely sweet, but enveloping, echoing the warmth of familial affection.
The foundation reveals matured vanilla pods—not the sugary upper notes of candy vanilla, but the woody, spiced soul of the real thing. Ambergris weaves in quietly, adding animalic depth and saline complexity, grounding the fragrance in something primal and unexpectedly refined.
Spring coaxes out the meringue-like lift, mirroring blooming trees. In summer heat, the cognac’s warmth grows more radiant—like sunlight through amber glass jars. Autumn draws out the caramel’s burnished sweetness, comforting as turning leaves. Winter allows the ambergris to surface, providing mysterious warmth like memories we cling to through the barren months.
Caramello Dorato transcends fragrance. It’s olfactory necromancy—resurrecting not just scents but the emotional landscapes they once shaped. Each application becomes less about adornment and more about communion with sensory ghosts. Some may call it a gourmand perfume. But those who understand know it’s something else: bottled nostalgia, preserved time, and proof that our deepest connections can be relived through the ancient, alchemical language of scent.
I’ve owned a bottle since April 2025, and my experience is based on it.
-Elysium
Elysium
