Zoologist Penguin - Seaweed and Wild Herbs Under a Crust of Ice

Frozen metal. That’s the first thing I smell. Then Venice in winter - not the postcard version, but standing on a vaporetto in the cold, surrounded by dark water and half-frozen seaweed. The air is sharp, wet and almost metallic.

There is something wonderfully strange about the freshness here. It reminds me of laundry left outside until it freezes, then brought back into a warm place. Clean, but not conventionally clean. Alongside it are wormwood covered in frost, dry grasses after the first freeze, and berries left forgotten on the bushes until winter. I imagine blackthorn, tart and dark, its skin covered with a thin crust of ice.
There’s also something almost drink-like about Penguin: gin poured over ice, a very bitter natural tonic, pink pepper. Cold, dry, herbal and sparkling.

What I love most is that the cold here never feels abstract. I can almost touch it. Frozen metal, icy water, stiff fabric on the cold wind air, frosted herbs, berries under a layer of ice. Even the greenery feels frozen rather than simply fresh. It’s incredibly atmospheric - sharp, herbal, airy and genuinely icy. Like everything has been caught outside just after the first frost.