It's no hyperbole to say there is no celebration more joyful, more optimistic, more heart-wrenching, in its way, in all of the Greek calendar (and it is already full of those) than Orthodox Easter. The awakening of spring, which sheds its pagan archetypes shining upon everything, is walking hand in hand with the tradition of a pious Christianity that is nevertheless smiling, instead of morose, and lenient, instead of boasting a stern Biblical face.
In the processions of the Holy Week, especially in the sunny, picturesque countryside and on the numerous islands, I can still witness the joie de vivre that can exist only in cultures that have been deprived for long; it is only then that people can appreciate the smalleest pleasures, the generosity of nature itself, the simple human contact that needs no social agenda whatsoever. Man is enjoying life, much like he did in the classical era, because he's not entirely convinced there will be a better one, even though the prospect of one delights his soul through the promise of spring's and Christ's resurgence. In Greece where the National Revolution also symbolically sprang along with the first throes of spring, resurgence takes on a loaded nuance: the soul fills with renewed courage for every hardship ahead.
The spring air is aromatized with fragrant effluvia from trees and plants, an intoxicating bouquet that is hard to forget: bigaradiers with orange blossoms in full bloom, bushes of lilacs (called Πασχαλιά/Pashalia in Greek because they bloom exactly during the month of April, when Pasha is celebrated), violets in deep shades but also stocks (Mathiola longipetala) with their spicy, skatole-rich, intense aroma. Dill, thyme, spearmint and humble chamomille are beginning to make the countryside smell like a giant pasture or one enormous kitchen herbs cabinet.
And of course food, glorious food: from red Easter eggs, which make households smell of vinegar and onion peel (traditionally used to "anchor" the dye on the hand-painted egg) as they're prepared on the eve of Good Friday, to the succulent, sweet, cardamom-laced Eastern bread which whets the appetite for the feast of Sunday.
Greek Easter is a Dionysian celebration...
The following recipe, characteristic of spring herbs and traditions in Greece, is of Tzeeyerosarmades/Τζιγεροσαρμάδες: Tzeeyeri means internal organs and is a Turkish word, metaphorically used as an affectionate term for children, as those come indeed from a mother's insides. Sarmas (pl. sarmades) is anything closed up in a small handful "pocket" container, a cook term that is quite usual in other recipes of the Mediterranean region as well.
The dish is cholesterol ahoy, full as it is with lamb organs and animal fat, but its aromatic bouquet of the herbs of Greek spring, dill, spearmint and fresh green onions, is mouthwatering. I suggest you accompany it with a good dry red. As it is a mainstay in our family's Eastern table, our usual coupling is with a tannin-rich full-bodied Xinomauro variety from where the recipe originates from: the northern extremeties of Greek soil, the plains of southern, Greek Macedonia.
Tzigerosarmades (Tzee-ye-ro-saMA-des) from Greek Macedonia
You will need for 6-8 persons:
the internal organs of 2 lambs (offal, but essentially liver, spleen, heart, lungs, kidneys and throughly cleansed~with a knitting needle~ intenstines; you might skip the intestines if it makes you uncomfrotable)
the peritonium of 2 lambs, removed by a skilled butcher with much care (you want it to be as uniformand unbroken as possible)
3 whole eggs, preferably free-range
1 egg yolk for smearing at the finish
1 dry onion, chopped in small pieces
3-4 bunches of "fresh green onions"/shallots with their stems
3/4 cup of Karolina rice (a variety used in "gemista" or substitute with parlboiled rice)
1 small bunch of fresh dill
1 small bunch of fresh spearmint
salt and pepper to taste
a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin olive oil
Optional, to accompany the dish: a few potatoes for roasting and dry oregano, chopped garlic and lemon juice for the potatoes
1. Put the carefully cleansed intenstines, liver, spleen, lungs and kidneys of the lamb into boiling water and let them boil for a few minutes, until relatively firm.
2. Drain and chop finely (not bigger than a small hazelnut) all of it. Put aside.
3. Take a large, deep pan and put a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin oil in it, over low fire. Put the two kinds of onions/shallots finely chopped in it. Put the finely chopped dill and spearmint as well. Stir for a little while until they become transparent.
4. Put the chopped livers etc., the rice, salt and pepper and let the mix cook on low stove until the rice is cooked thoroughly.
5. In the meantime, put the peritonium membrane in warm weather so it expands and softens and becomes pliable like an elastic membrane (which it is essentially). When ready, drain and open up on a clean surface. You want to cut pieces of it, as large as your palm or a small hankerchief.
6. Return to the pan and break the 3 eggs and stir gently. Leave it on the stove for a minute more, then withdraw.
7. You are now ready to fill the little "pieces" of the membrane. Put about a spoonful of the mix in each and gently close them with ends tucked on the underside. They should resemble round patties of about 8-10 cm circumference. Put one by one in a big ovenproof pan and very gently brush them with egg yolk diluted in a few drops of water (this will give a fine glaze!).
Optional step: If you want you might put some chopped potatoes around or in the middle, salted & peppered and sprinkled with chopped garlic, dried oregano and lemon juice; they accompany the dish just fine. They don't need any cooking oil, because the fat from the meat will nicely get into their flesh and make them "honied".
8. Roast the dish slowly in the oven at no more than 150C mark until the membrane has become golden and lightly crisp. If you have put potatoes in, the potatoes might need a bit more time to get done, so put a piece of aluminum foil over the tzeeyerosarmades in case they dry up too much in the process.
Serve hot with sprinkled lemon juice or accompany with strained Greek yoghurt, which provides the essential backdrop of something cool and tangy. Accompany with a good, dry red wine rich in tannins to cut the "fat" and possibly a fresh strawberry dessert that will cleanse the palate, toasting to the gods of Greek hospitality. And resist the urge to lick your fingers!
Photo of Spring in ancient Olympia in the Peloponnese, Greece by azbeen, via wooz.gr. Photo of sarmades via argiro.gr
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Frederic Malle Lys Mediterranee: fragrance review
On Good Friday
weary I shuffle my steps,
at the weary light of day.
Lilies of spring I bring you
and lay upon your cross ~
tear-soaked friend,
First among the first.
~Nikos Gatsos, Days of Epitaph*
A different lily, a wearable lily
The astrigent and almost aqueous, saline opening of Lys Méditerranée in the Frédéric Malle Editions des Parfums line is highly surprising for those who have been accustomed to florist type lilies; crystalline and stark in their cellophane, premature mummies in dolled up sarcophagi, looking at you sterny and haughty, like stuffed owls out of Psycho. But wild lilies in the basin of the Mediterranean sea are routinely sprayed by the salty spray of the deep blue sea, gaining an overlay of odour that is reminiscent of cured meats, and of the contrast of sandpaper-like fresh roughness against the nose beside the intense, waxy petals spiciness.
Issued in 2000 and composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, in my opinion Lys Méditerranée is definitely among the masterpieces in the line, as evidenced by my impressive finishing of a whole bottle of it during last spring and summer. It is an impressionistic composition capturing a moment in time and place perfectly: Easter lilies in all their rustic splendor, an affair of freshness and lushness entwined, a shady terrace on some villa on Patmos island or the boardwalk in Nice. Checking the fragrance notes, we know they got the paysage references right: lilies, salty water, angelica, lily of the valley and water lily, orange blossom even: Pure Med! White lilies were cultivated in ancient Crete and Greece, as evidenced by the frescoes in Knossos. The lily was revered by the Greeks as sprouting from the milk of Hera, queen of the gods.
Scent Profile
The ginger spiciness in Lys Méditerranée perks the nose, imbuing the lily bouquet with a convincing life-like chord, ginger lilies staying on throughout the arc of the linear composition; those who have an aversion to spice might find it too much, too floral but I'm not among them. There is a huge orange blossom note hidden in there and strong salicylates (naturally inherent in lily) which manage to imbue freshness rather than excessive floralcy.
The base exhibits a balance of muskiness, a very thin line between not quite clean and borderline carnal, without excessive sweetness or cheap tricks. In fact the delicately, musky-vanillic vegetal theme recalls to mind the feeling of Vanille Galante in the Hermessences collection, also heavy on the salicylates. The style is comparable, even though Lys projects as a higher octave overall and seems to include jasmolactones giving an almost gardenia-like greeness. Comparing it with another pure lily scent, Serge Lutens's angelic and sublimely creamy Un Lys, I find that Lys Méditerranée is more intense, shimmering with a less cherubic cheek; less vanillic, muskier, saltier, a tad rougher if you will. And despite the freshness it lasts and lasts.
What is it that makes this great fragrance largely unsung then? Pure programmatic association. Perfume lovers have developed a keen displeasure against "marine" notes, vexed by the catapulting chords used on mainstream perfumery which hammered us with artificial "freshness" for years on end ~before giving way to tooth-decaying sweetness, that is! Time to ditch it for once, this is seriously great work.
Notes for F.Malle Lys Méditerranée:
Top notes: sea water, lily of the valley and ginger
Middle notes: angelica, lily, orange blossom and lotus
Base notes: vanilla and musk
Available as eau de parfum by F.Malle on their official site and at Barneys.
*translation by Elena Vosnaki
Fashion photo shoot on Patmos island, Greece, by photographer Camilla Akrans for T Style magazine of the New York Times, Travel supplement summer 2009.
Diptyque Opopanax: fragrance (for home & beyond) review
The practice of wearing room fragrance as personal scent isn't totally revolutionary on my part (everyone raves, me included, about incense-y Essence of John Galliano by -recently controversial- designer Galliano) but Opopanax by Diptyque is my very own personal "discovery" down that path of delightful addiction that plagues at least some of the aficionados of scent. Basically a room spray (with its fine fragrance counterpart being Eau Lente by the same brand, which I also like a lot), Opopanax is more complex and nuanced than its simplistic name would suggest; which is exactly what prompted me to experiment with it in the first place.
Opopanax (also spelled "opoponax") is a secretion from the stems of the plant Opopanax chironium, or "sweet myrrh", which is then dried out in the sun. Coming from a sunny climate where the yellow flowers of this "noblest ofincense gums", to quote king Solomon himself, are a common enough sight, I have somewhat of an affinity with this sweet smelling essence. It might also have to do with the delightful etymology: ὀποπάναξ comes from the Greek words ὀπός and πανάκεια, literally "total healing through plant essence".
In Diptyque's Opopanax apart from the fluffy, powdery woody, exotically sensuous and all around cozy haze of the eponymous Middle-Eastern resin I can detect shades of orange blossom, orange confit cake, balsamic vanilla and even Eastern Bread, the confit qualities and the mahlep spice being facets of the resin itself. And yet it also has a certain freshness about it: Not exactly the lemon-facets of frankincence which peter out to smokiness cooling the air as they leave, but nonetheless it does not smell opressing at all. Its voluptuous unfolding on air, linen, skin or clothes is like an arc of graceful awakening: you feel it making your nostrils quiver and then settle into a prolonged inhalation and another prolonged exhalation of utter pleasure. The dark, powdery backdrop of Opopanax is reminiscent of how vintage Shalimar used to dry down, the powder never too sweet, the leathery quinolines never too harsh, all coppery clouds setting on some eastern temple scenery when nary the tremble of a leaf would cut the awed silence of the moment.
Among room fragrances which can be borrowed for fine fragrance needs (the opposite is also valid practice, as some in the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line have proved in my experience), Diptyque's Opopanax is truly stellar, achingly gorgeous, right up there with the very best and lovers of Misuki, Or des Indes, Bal a Versailles and indeed Shalimar are urged to check it out.
Diptyque Opopanax comes in a room spray of 200ml and a 6.5oz candle. Obviously the room spray is easier to manipulate towards perfuming what strikes your fancy, but the candle is also terrific.
Available on the Diptyque site.(and on their UK page)
photo of candles in Orthodox church via wooz.gr
Opopanax (also spelled "opoponax") is a secretion from the stems of the plant Opopanax chironium, or "sweet myrrh", which is then dried out in the sun. Coming from a sunny climate where the yellow flowers of this "noblest ofincense gums", to quote king Solomon himself, are a common enough sight, I have somewhat of an affinity with this sweet smelling essence. It might also have to do with the delightful etymology: ὀποπάναξ comes from the Greek words ὀπός and πανάκεια, literally "total healing through plant essence".
In Diptyque's Opopanax apart from the fluffy, powdery woody, exotically sensuous and all around cozy haze of the eponymous Middle-Eastern resin I can detect shades of orange blossom, orange confit cake, balsamic vanilla and even Eastern Bread, the confit qualities and the mahlep spice being facets of the resin itself. And yet it also has a certain freshness about it: Not exactly the lemon-facets of frankincence which peter out to smokiness cooling the air as they leave, but nonetheless it does not smell opressing at all. Its voluptuous unfolding on air, linen, skin or clothes is like an arc of graceful awakening: you feel it making your nostrils quiver and then settle into a prolonged inhalation and another prolonged exhalation of utter pleasure. The dark, powdery backdrop of Opopanax is reminiscent of how vintage Shalimar used to dry down, the powder never too sweet, the leathery quinolines never too harsh, all coppery clouds setting on some eastern temple scenery when nary the tremble of a leaf would cut the awed silence of the moment.
Among room fragrances which can be borrowed for fine fragrance needs (the opposite is also valid practice, as some in the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line have proved in my experience), Diptyque's Opopanax is truly stellar, achingly gorgeous, right up there with the very best and lovers of Misuki, Or des Indes, Bal a Versailles and indeed Shalimar are urged to check it out.
Diptyque Opopanax comes in a room spray of 200ml and a 6.5oz candle. Obviously the room spray is easier to manipulate towards perfuming what strikes your fancy, but the candle is also terrific.
Available on the Diptyque site.(and on their UK page)
photo of candles in Orthodox church via wooz.gr
Labels:
diptyque,
home fragrance,
opoponax,
resin,
review
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Meanwhile
I will be travelling to the blessed natural wonders bestowed for our pleasure for a few days. However, I have composed several scheduled posts which will appear regularly on these pages for your enjoyment, taking upon references of the scents & flavours of the Holy Week in Greece and beyond. And assuming Net connection, I might pop in to check things once in a while.
In the meantime, you can also revisit the ~ever popular, since 2007 when it was first written~ Incense Series; tracing each day with designated fragrances to fit the mood and traditions, posts appearing in reverse chronological order on the link.
In the meantime, you can also revisit the ~ever popular, since 2007 when it was first written~ Incense Series; tracing each day with designated fragrances to fit the mood and traditions, posts appearing in reverse chronological order on the link.
Blood Concept Fragrances: For the Vampire in you
I never knew that Dracula was so eloquent in his particular obsession, but apparently he must be: "The human body is totally pervaded by a liquid vital rush that brings us what we are most fond of: Life. Filled with legends and meanings‚ blood is soaked with mystery, fascination and respect: it’s the most tested and studied part of the human body. Hiding the multitude of secrets that reveals our inner and unique way of being. BLOOD Concept is a ceremony devoted to the pulse of life and its visceral boost. It is actually the river of life." Makes your blood curdle, doesn't it; but no, the author isn't Prince Vlad Tepes himself or any of the vampires in the Twilight sage by Stephanie Meyers. It's the ad copy of a new Italian niche fragrance line. Figures.
The concept for Blood fragrances belongs to Giovanni Castelli, a fashion designer and the co-founder of the brand Acqua di Stresa, and Antonio Zuddas, an artist who works in advertising as a copywriter and photographer. They developed the fragrances in collaboration with Apf France in Grasse and the graphics were done by Fabrizio Piras and Giuseppe Porcelli. The concept follows the historical progression of blood type groups through evolution, from the oldest, O, to the newest AB. The scents were officially introduced to the public in Excence exhibition in Milan on March 31st.
Blood Concept fragrances are a brilliant exercise in marketese, as they take as a springboard one of the most influential concepts: that fragrance should suit the wearer. In a much more primeval way this time, not focusing on skin type, hair colour or preferences and associations, but deep within one's blood. Within one's blood group, more like it, as it would be impossible to account for every nuance, like any good microbiologist worth his/her salt would know.
The sample pack came in a scratch & sniff little pocketbook, full of cards with each blood type on the front, scratching surface which releases microcapsules of scent when you drag your nail fingers on it, and the fragrance notes and type of scent (along with a sex demarcation which is unisex, i.e. shared between the sexes) on the back of the cards. The pack reads Compatibility Test. I mean, geez, you have to give it to them! It's as if the scents fuse into your organism and perform some microcosmos ritual. They're careful to say nevertheless that you can test them all and choose whatever speaks to you, regardless of your actual blood type. Phew...I was worried a bit there for a moment!
Perfume O is a unisex leather fragrance, composed of thyme, raspberry, cyperus esculentus, rose hips, leather, birch, cedar wood, and metallic notes.
Perfume A is a unisex aromatic fragrance which includes notes of green garden, tomato leaves, basil, star anise and metallic notes.
Perfume B is a unisex woody spicy composition with red apple and black cherry in the top, artemisia, pepper, pomegranate and black tea in the heart; patchouli, tick wood and metallic notes in the base.
Perfume AB is a unisex mineral composition with aldehydes, aluminium and slate in the top, pebble and aqua in the heart, cedar wood and metallic notes in the base.
The mention of metallic notes isn't that creepy actually (i.e.as in blood, metallic due to iron content). Think of it more in the lines of popular aromachemicals du jour like Ambrox and Iso E Super, which incidentally give a uniform woody aspect as well (to almost each and every one of them, to my nose).
I'm not sure if the method of scratch & sniff cards gives an accurate enough imprint of the fragrances; I'm hypothesizing that it's a bit like judging based on scent strips on magazines. They give you a general idea, but you really have to test the juice on skin to make a definite decision. Based on those, nevertheless, I get the feeling that these are fragrances composed around the same more or less principles with minor nuances: they're niche scents, resolutely unisex in their carriage, aimed at people inquisitive to smell something not immediately identifiable (the given notes of even familiar ingredients such as vanilla, apple or basil don't proclaim their presence as such) and they're not aimed to cajole or seduce under any circumstances.
If pressed I'd say that Perfume B is the one I leaned to, it feels less clinical thanks to its spicy bouquet; a bit as if Jean Claude Ellena was on acid, composing at some remote mountain top cabin made of teak wood. Perfume A is also rather interesting, full as it is of the very green smell of tomato stems, a very agreeable aroma. A bit of an historical paradox though, considering solanum lycopersicum's trajectory in time. The rest didn't grab me; maybe I had high expectations from Perfume O as it poses as a leather. It's rather a woody suede and I think we've seen our share of those. Perfume AB seems to contain that weird molecule that is also present in Etat Libre d'Orange Secretions Magnifiques, and resembles most closely what Chandler Burr had referred to as "sink cleanser spilled on an aluminum countertop" (speaking of dihydromyrcenol); think crazied Godzilla lime froth and you're there.
All Blood Concept fragrances are available in dropper bottles of 40 ml; a little bit medicinal and at the same time decadently 19th century vampiric as well.
Photo of Udo Kier in The Blood of Dracula (1974). All other pics by Elena Vosnaki.
Disclosure: I was sent the sample pack by the manufacturer.
The concept for Blood fragrances belongs to Giovanni Castelli, a fashion designer and the co-founder of the brand Acqua di Stresa, and Antonio Zuddas, an artist who works in advertising as a copywriter and photographer. They developed the fragrances in collaboration with Apf France in Grasse and the graphics were done by Fabrizio Piras and Giuseppe Porcelli. The concept follows the historical progression of blood type groups through evolution, from the oldest, O, to the newest AB. The scents were officially introduced to the public in Excence exhibition in Milan on March 31st.
Blood Concept fragrances are a brilliant exercise in marketese, as they take as a springboard one of the most influential concepts: that fragrance should suit the wearer. In a much more primeval way this time, not focusing on skin type, hair colour or preferences and associations, but deep within one's blood. Within one's blood group, more like it, as it would be impossible to account for every nuance, like any good microbiologist worth his/her salt would know.
The sample pack came in a scratch & sniff little pocketbook, full of cards with each blood type on the front, scratching surface which releases microcapsules of scent when you drag your nail fingers on it, and the fragrance notes and type of scent (along with a sex demarcation which is unisex, i.e. shared between the sexes) on the back of the cards. The pack reads Compatibility Test. I mean, geez, you have to give it to them! It's as if the scents fuse into your organism and perform some microcosmos ritual. They're careful to say nevertheless that you can test them all and choose whatever speaks to you, regardless of your actual blood type. Phew...I was worried a bit there for a moment!
Perfume O is a unisex leather fragrance, composed of thyme, raspberry, cyperus esculentus, rose hips, leather, birch, cedar wood, and metallic notes.
Perfume A is a unisex aromatic fragrance which includes notes of green garden, tomato leaves, basil, star anise and metallic notes.
Perfume B is a unisex woody spicy composition with red apple and black cherry in the top, artemisia, pepper, pomegranate and black tea in the heart; patchouli, tick wood and metallic notes in the base.
Perfume AB is a unisex mineral composition with aldehydes, aluminium and slate in the top, pebble and aqua in the heart, cedar wood and metallic notes in the base.
The mention of metallic notes isn't that creepy actually (i.e.as in blood, metallic due to iron content). Think of it more in the lines of popular aromachemicals du jour like Ambrox and Iso E Super, which incidentally give a uniform woody aspect as well (to almost each and every one of them, to my nose).
I'm not sure if the method of scratch & sniff cards gives an accurate enough imprint of the fragrances; I'm hypothesizing that it's a bit like judging based on scent strips on magazines. They give you a general idea, but you really have to test the juice on skin to make a definite decision. Based on those, nevertheless, I get the feeling that these are fragrances composed around the same more or less principles with minor nuances: they're niche scents, resolutely unisex in their carriage, aimed at people inquisitive to smell something not immediately identifiable (the given notes of even familiar ingredients such as vanilla, apple or basil don't proclaim their presence as such) and they're not aimed to cajole or seduce under any circumstances.
If pressed I'd say that Perfume B is the one I leaned to, it feels less clinical thanks to its spicy bouquet; a bit as if Jean Claude Ellena was on acid, composing at some remote mountain top cabin made of teak wood. Perfume A is also rather interesting, full as it is of the very green smell of tomato stems, a very agreeable aroma. A bit of an historical paradox though, considering solanum lycopersicum's trajectory in time. The rest didn't grab me; maybe I had high expectations from Perfume O as it poses as a leather. It's rather a woody suede and I think we've seen our share of those. Perfume AB seems to contain that weird molecule that is also present in Etat Libre d'Orange Secretions Magnifiques, and resembles most closely what Chandler Burr had referred to as "sink cleanser spilled on an aluminum countertop" (speaking of dihydromyrcenol); think crazied Godzilla lime froth and you're there.
All Blood Concept fragrances are available in dropper bottles of 40 ml; a little bit medicinal and at the same time decadently 19th century vampiric as well.
Photo of Udo Kier in The Blood of Dracula (1974). All other pics by Elena Vosnaki.
Disclosure: I was sent the sample pack by the manufacturer.
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