Introducing Juke

 Juke
Hot, humid nights, moonlight on water, night bugs singing, hot jazz in the distance. The air is heady with magnolia flowers releasing their scent into the darkness. Tucked into the bayou is a juke joint, music spilling out. A woman is dancing with a drink in her hand, dangling off of a perfumed wrist. A whiff of imported French perfume conjured with goods collected along the spice route mixes with moonshine and tobacco in the sweaty, humid speakeasy.

 Sweet honey bayou with earthy orris root, tobacco and syrupy balsams compose the bottom chord. Heady floral notes of pink champaca and orange flower concrete mingling with honey absolute create the heart with lime, clementine and white champa leaf (a newly discovered and new favorite oil).


                     Etsy



Top notes: lime, clementine, white champa leaf
Heart notes: pink champaca absolute, orange flower concrete, honey absolute
Base notes: tobacco absolute, orris root, peru balsam, majmua udd attar











Orange Flower Water

Orange Flower Water in a vintage bottle.
Orange Flower comes from the blossoms of the bitter orange tree, Citrus sinensis.  The bitter orange plant actually gives us four fragrant oils.  The steam distillation of the blossoms is the coveted neroli.  When an absolute is made of the same flowers it is referred to as orange blossom absolute.  The pressed rinds delivers bitter orange essential oil and the unripe green fruit, stems and twigs give us petitgrain oil.

Bitter orange is a peculiar kind of citrus.  It is fresh yet dry and elegant with a lasting sweet undertone.  It's blossoms have a light, dry nature. They produce one of my absolute favorite scents in all of creation, the coveted orange blossom.  I should really live near orange groves.

Orange flower water is the water left over after the blossoms have been distilled to make essential oil. The blossoms are put into a vessel and steam is forced through it. The steam collects in another vessel with the essential oil floating on top. The oil is syphoned off, the water remaining is the hydrosol.

The scent is sublime.  It is floral, fruity with a hint of green, refreshing and very complex. When inhaled orange blossom is antidepressant and a mild sedative, so useful at night to ease insomnia.  It has a joyous, uplifting quality. It stops caffeine jitters and is a great choice for fretful babies. It is known for its supportive qualities during the detoxification process or when quitting an addictive habit.

Neroli is a wonderful treatment for delicate, sensitive and oily skin (due to its astringency).  Use it as a toner and in face masks with clay and honey.  It can also be used as a perfume!

Both rosewater and orange flower water have been used in cooking and baking for centuries.  Indian and Middle Eastern desserts are often delicately flavored with them.  It is what's used to flavor madeleines and prompted Marcel Proust to remember the past.  It's also often used to flavor marshmallows.  Add it to champagne as an aphrodisiac, or if you're not inclined to drink alcohol add it to plain seltzer. One tablespoon in a liter of seltzer would befit a toast at any occasion.  It's one of my favorite summer refreshers.

I've bottled some up in vintage bottles I found on the beach, all one of a kind. You can see them, and other hydrosols, in my Etsy store.


Flora, a Perfume with Carnation at it's Heart

Carnations, underrated and maligned, are actually one of my favorite floral fragrances. Not the mass produced carnations available in every florist shop and displayed in funeral arrangements across the country. Those carnations have been hybridized to be big and showy but most have no scent whatsoever, and if they do it's faint and rather stinky. I'm talking about old fashioned carnations like the ones my mother grew in her garden when I was growing up. At that tender young age I wasn't put off yet by the florist industry so my appreciation of them was pure. 

I was approached recently by the floral industry giant, Teleflora. They were possibly interested in having a fragrance created to celebrate a new line of arrangements they were launching. At one time in my career I was a floral designer working for high end designers in New York City. We cringed at companies like Teleflora and FTD and the use of carnations in general. At first when I got the offer I wondered how I could reconcile my disdain for mass produced arrangements with the possibility of being hired to create a fragrance. Alas the job fell through almost as soon as it was offered but the challenge stayed with me. It became a quest to create the most beautiful carnation floral fragrance I could muster. 

The result is Flora, a spicy, earthy floral with carnation at it's heart. Mitti, an Indian attar of sandalwood saturated in baked earth, is the foundation of the perfume. Warm vanilla absolute bonds with the vanilla notes in the carnations to bring it's sweetness all the way into the dry down. A touch of agarwood co2 and dark patchouli add darker and more tenacious nuances. 

Clove bud absolute brings out the spiciness in the carnation which is sweetened just a bit with orange blossom concrete and apricot isolate. Wild lavender adds a floral aspect to the top with blood orange lending a touch of sweetness and linalool rich ho wood acts as a bright and warm invitation. 

"Flora evokes the kind of fairy that hovered around Juliet's bed just after Romeo left. Flora has Juliet feeling sultry and lustful, shimmering in that innocent radiance at its fullest when a maiden has found her naughtiest dreams come true." Victoria O. 
samples are available


Top notes: ho wood, wild lavender, blood orange 
Heart notes: carnation absolute, clove bud absolute, apricot natural isolate, orange blossom concrete 
Base notes: mitti attar, vanilla absolute, agarwood absolute, dark patchouli


You can purchase Flora from my website, herbalalchemy.net or my Etsy store, etsy.com/shop/herbalalchemy.



Creating a Carnation Perfume

The sun hits the work in progress on Flora
Every once in a while I get a really enticing teaser.  "This is National Geographic, we'd like to interview you for a new show on scent" or "this is Time Out, we'd like to feature you".  Often these offers don't pan out and I've chosen to be flattered by the interest but not get too attached to the outcome.  The latest offer to dangle before me and never materialize is from the giant mass produced floral arrangement company, Teleflora.  They were sussing out some ideas for having a fragrance bar and new fragrance to celebrate their Mother's Day line of arrangements.

Once upon a time I used to be a floral designer.  I started in Boston and worked in two very sweet shops catering to a sophisticated clientele.  After I moved to New York I worked at a big shop on the Upper West Side before I ventured out into freelancing and working for party and event planners.  While in the shops I frequently would get Teleflora and FTD orders for arrangements that were not quite to my taste, and that of our patrons.  We designers would always do our best to fulfill the orders while raising the mark slightly.

Dianthus caryophyllus
When the call came I thought first that I couldn't associate myself with the floral industry giant but the more I thought about it the more inspired I became to create the most beautiful carnation perfume that I could.  Carnation is an underrated flower with an irresistible scent of vanilla and cloves that got a bad name from their association with just this kind of company.  I've decided to pair mitti, the Indian attar of distilled baked earth in sandalwood, with the carnation.  Agarwood co2, dark patchouli, vanilla and clove bud absolute have rounded things out and although the top notes have not been determined there is a very good chance for ho wood and wild lavender.  I've decided to call it Flora for the often overlooked and unfairly maligned carnation.

Lovely Review in Fragrantica

I taught my first workshop in my home studio last weekend and among my students were very special guests Olga Ivanova and Zoran Cerar of Fragrantica.  Their eagerness to participate and infectious enthusiasm were a delight.   I was so honored to have them and thrilled by the beautiful review they gave the class.

New Colognes

Colognes bottled up and ready
This season's colognes are finally brewed, filtered, bottled and labeled.  I'm pleased with the way they turned out this year.  The new influx of materials was a joy to work with.

I started the project by individually tincturing the dry materials to see/smell what they do on their own.  Then I was able to blend with more confidence.  After doing research on old cologne formulary and coming up with some ideas of my own I set about working my ideas out on paper.  I knew I wanted to do a fougere and I've always wanted to make something called Swamp Water.  The new fragrances are:

Foret de Fougere:  Lately I've fallen in love with the fragrance family fougere. French for fern, fougeres are meant to replicate the scent of the forest floor (ferns don't actually have a scent of their own). To be a true fougere there must be three notes - lavender, oakmoss and some kind of coumarin (the molecule responsible for the sweet caramel note in tonka beans, hay and sweet woodruff). Oakmoss is a little tough to come by in its natural state but the coumarin note was accomplished by sweet woodruff and tonka beans and accented with vanilla beans and patchouli. Jasmine forms the heart of this fragrance with lavender and cassia in the top. I'm really happy with the way this one came out, it may be my favorite of all the cologne experiments.

L'eau du Who:  L'eau du Who is inspired by the classic cologne, 4711. After a little research I came up with an approximate formula for the cologne and broke it down into something akin. Patchouli leaves, vetiver roots and sandalwood powder form the base while jasmine, rose buds and peach tea create the heart, finished with meyer lemon, minneola tangerine and orange peel combined with basil and lemon verbena. I named it after my guitar hero, Pete Townshend of the Who, who reportedly wore it before his shows.

Swamp Water:  Swamp Water is an idea I came up with long ago when fantasizing about the bayou. I saw grasses swaying in the breeze, the night air thick with heavy florals, a refreshing glass of tea with herbs. Vetiver, the roots of a grass, and sweetgrass combine with sandalwood to form the base while jasmine, meadowsweet and lavender bring in the heart. Swirling on top are jasmine tea, orange peel and lemon verbena.

Meadowsweet:  This cologne could easily be called Honey Water as it is as sweet as nectar. Meadowsweet and linden blossoms sit atop crushed tonka beans and sandalwood with lemon verbena gracing the top.

Terroir:  Terroir is the term used to describe the special set of characteristics that the geography, geology and climate of a certain place, interacting with the plant's genetics, express in agricultural products. Most of the herbs and flowers used in this potion are locally grown and harvested myself. Sweet woodruff, which grows in my herb garden, is supplanted with orris root and sweetgrass to form the bottom chord. Freshly harvested linden blossoms and pink and white roses form the heart, with home grown lemon verbena, tarragon and sweet annie on top. It has a sweet earthy lushness, Brooklyn grown.

Midnight Garden

My newest perfume, Midnight Garden, is the joint creation of the lovely women of The Robert Allen Group and myself.  The Group has designed a new line of fabrics inspired by hanging orchids, twisting vines and hidden temples.  What they described to me was a rainforest, with orchids hanging in the trees, thick with fragrance in the night air.  Wild sweet orange, petitgrain and coriander CO2 greet the nose, sitting on top of a jasmine, neroli and honey heart.  At the bottom of this sultry midnight perfume is the vanilla orchid with peru balsam and oakmoss to finish.

Midnight Garden


Sweet Woodruff

Sweet Woodruff growing in the 6/15 Green Herb Garden
About ten years ago I bought a sweet woodruff plant from the Greenmarket at Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn.  I put it in the postage stamp garden in the front of my brownstone where it lived for a few years before I transplanted it to the newly renovated herb garden at 6/15 Green Community Garden.  The first spring that it came back in it's new spot I decided to try to make May Wine.  If memory serves I picked several blooming branches and twisted or wrung them out to bruise them and stuffed them into a bottle of German Rhine wine.  Then I recorked the bottle and let it sit for about a week before I filtered and drank it.  I remember loving it, the woodruff had added a green and sort of balsamic note to the sweet wine.

The wine was meant to be drunk on May Day and I never got the timing right again and so never made it again.  It's a shame that I denied myself all those years simply because I couldn't drink it on the actual day.  This year, with spring coming early, I had a chance to catch it in time, not to make May Wine, but to make liqueur.

Sweet Woodruff (Asperula odorata) was used as a medicine in the Middle Ages, mostly as either a poltice for cuts and wounds or a strong decoction for stomach troubles.  It is known mostly for its sweet scent due to its high coumarin content, the chemical known for giving new mown hay its distinctive odor.  Bundles and garlands of woodruff were hung around the house in the heat of summer to "attemper the air, cool and make fresh the place, to the delight and comfort of such as are therein" and is reported to "make a man merry" according to Gerard.  The dried herb may also be kept among linens to sweeten them and protect them from insects.  It was also once used to stuff beds.

Sweet Woodruff drying on parchment
I've read that the coumarins in the plant don't come out until the plant dries.  I picked a small amount and left it to dry overnight on a parchment lined rack.  Right around the 24 hour mark I noticed that the leaves had taken on the distinct smell of fresh mown hay.  It was delicate but it was there.  I thought I'd leave it another day and see if it deepened.  The following morning the leaves had lost their scent almost entirely.  I picked another bunch and kept an eye on it around the 24 hour mark and began my maceration then.  I wrung it out much like I did with the wine and poured a cup of vodka over it.  The liquid began to take on a lovely pale green which deepened to the color of good fruity olive oil.  After two days I decanted it.  It tastes and smells of grass with a honeyed hay note.  I've made three successive batches.  I'd like to try sweetening some to make liqueur, and save some to add to the herb liqueur I'd like to make from the 6/15 Herb Garden this summer.  And of course some of it will be experimented with in Cocktail Lab.  I'll run out eventually but it will be just another thing to look forward to next spring.

Three batches of Sweet Woodruff Vodka