Tauer Perfumes- Carillon Pour Un Ange

I stalled for months before daring to try Carillon Pour Un Ange. What do you do when one of your most favorite perfumers in the universe comes up with a perfume that's focused on a note you usually dislike and then adds another note that tends to dislike you? Lily-of-the-valley and lilac are gorgeous in theory but lethal when I try to wear them. Hence- I was worried, which explains why I spent months pretending Carillon Pour Un Ange didn't exist. But I loved the other three 2010 Tauer Perfumes releases so much, I had to deal.

I approached Carillon Pour Un Ange armed with a scent strip, just in case. But even that first careful spritz made it clear this was not going to be a Diorissimo experience. I mean, even if we ignore the versions from the last decade or so and even go with real vintage, Diorissimo and I don't agree with each other. I get the idea when smelling vintage and can definitely appreciate the artistry of Edmond Roudnitska, but the muguet note in his creation (as well as in many others) was not meant for me. At least when I plan to smell good.

Andy Tauer's creation didn't shriek when I sniffed it (or when it smelled me). Instead, for the first time in probably forever I got the full ethereal effect of a delicate floral perfume. I saw the colors and felt the texture of the petals, saw the beauty of an early spring morning when everything is green, new and full of hope. I had to wear Carillon on my skin, and that's when I got the full picture.

While this perfume does not immediately announce the Tauer signature incense base (I can usually pick it out even before removing the cap of a bottle), it is still there in the form of the familiar ambergris note. And as always, it has a love affair with my skin- I get nuances of wood and dry grass. Carillon Pour Un Ange is still green, floral and possesses a gossamer quality, but when I spray it under my clothes or when I go to bed wearing it and pull the blankets over my head it pulls me into its world.

As hopeful and uplifting as Carillon opens, it also has a bittersweet quality. You know well that spring ends, the sweetness fades away as do beauty and love. I don't mean to go all pseudo-deep and faux-philosophical, this is a perfume review on the net, after all. But the depth of emotion here and the pensive quality Andy Tauer managed to bottle here are breathtakingly beautiful in the most unexpected way.

If you look at customer's comments about Carillon Pour Un Ange on Luckyscent website you see either horrified one star reviews or 5 star endorsements. There's no middle ground which doesn't surprise me. This isn't a dainty harmless little floral scents or an afterthought with a matching lotion from Crabtree & Evelyn. Carillon is a work of art that will move you- either to love it or scrub it in the nearest sink. In any case, this is a perfume that should be sampled  whether you're a long time Tauer fan, foe or new to the scene. You might discover something new about yourself, about perfumery or about the talented composer behind this work of art.

Carillon Pour Un Ange ($75, 15 ml, the same format and packaging as Une Rose Chypree) is in limited distribution until March and only available from Luckyscent and tauerperfumes.com. After the official full launch it will be available from other Tauer retailers around the world.

Art: Enchantment by Pino

Andy Tauer's Advent Calendar, A Giveaway And My Mother's Marzipan

Today is day 23 of Andy Tauer's Advent Calendar. I'm honored to host a giveaway of a very special bottle of Andy's creation Le Cologne du Maghreb- an all natural, all botanical eau de cologne. It's a real prize- a 50 ml of a scent that can't be purchased anywhere. And, of course, it smells wonderful- rich citrus like you rarely encounter nowadays over a light wood/incense base. This is Andy's gift (details at the bottom), and here is mine:

December celebrations in my family have always been about more than just Hanukkah. Not that the Festival Of Light on all its deep-fried goodness is anything minor, but my dad's birthday is the 17th of December, my late grandfather's was the 22nd (he would have been 98 this year) and my parents' wedding anniversary is the 28th. This means December has really been one big countdown. With food.

One of the treats that always appears on the table is homemade marzipan. I believe my mom has refined and improved an old family recipe. Her marzipan is delectable, flavorful and ridiculously easy to make. I still remember when I was very young that my mother used a manual food mill to grind the almonds, but that was over 30 years ago. A food processor simplifies preparations- grind, mix and roll into cute little balls. It takes very few ingredients, just make sure not to compromise on quality and freshness. The basic principle is equal parts almonds and sugar, some seasoning and a binding ingredient (the egg white). Quantities can be easily adjusted as is the seasoning. My mother uses vanilla-laced (store vanilla pods in your sugar for a couple of weeks). Or add a few drops of the best vanilla extract to the mixture. This last adjustment is not mother-approved (I'll hear about this in tomorrow's phone call), but it works in a pinch.

Nina's Marzipan

9 oz (250gr) raw unblanched almonds
9 oz (250 gr) sugar
an egg white (probably a little less- depending on the mixture)
zest of a medium lemon, finely grated
a few drops of almond extract


1. Blanch the almond in boiling water- let soak for 1 minute, rinse in cold water and pat to remove skins. Dry. No shortcuts on this- never buy blanched almonds because they are seriously lacking in taste, aroma and texture.

2. Process the blanched almonds and sugar into a very fine and uniform meal.

3. Add egg white one spoonful at a time and mix by hand to dough-like consistency.

4. Mix in extracts and lemon zest.

5. Roll into balls, about 3/4-inch round. Place each ball in a paper candy cup, store in an airtight container and refrigerate until serving.

Yes, that's it.

And now to Andy's giveaway- to be entered please leave a comment and tell us about a favorite holiday treat or a scent memory. 
Art by Craig Stephens

Tauer Perfumes- Une Rose Vermeille

It occurred to me the other day that Une Rose Vermeille by Tauer perfumes is technically a fruity floral. Funny, right? Of course, this is not exactly an "Andy Tauer does Sephora" moment, but one cannot deny that Une Rose Vermeille is about sweet berries and rose, it's definitely a gourmand and it has quite a bit of vanilla in the dry-down. It's all about being pretty, loving and adorable.

Rose is not a new Tauer theme. Andy's very first perfume, the sexy Le Maroc Pour Elle, is probably my favorite rose and jasmine blend. Then there's Incense Rose (mandarin orange, rose, incense over the Tauerade base) and Une Rose Chypree, which just might top the list of my favorite perfumes of the decade. So, yes, there was no lack of expectations from Une Rose Vermeille. And it did not disappoint.

Une Rose Vermeille doesn't smell like a typical Tauer. It completely lacks the familiar cistus labdanum I can usually spot as soon as I take off the bottle's cap. If Une Rose Chypree was romantic in a nostalgic, almost melancholic way, Vermeille is idyllic and optimistic. It brings summer love to a December night and celebrates June during its season. The juicy fruits appear from the start- beautiful pulpy citrus, full and lush. It goes well with the berries and roses that follow and creates this star-burst of color and taste. I imagine sitting on my deck on a late summer morning having a wonderful breakfast of fresh pastries with homemade jams- raspberry and rose petals (why can't I find it anywhere around here?), a pitcher of just-squeezed orange juice and a beautiful vase of roses are on the table. I'm also a pretty princess in this little fantasy, but that might be a perfume overdose. This stuff is potent and long lasting.

But that's not all. The parts that make Une Rose Vermeille so stunning are the violets and marzipan that join the jammy rose when it's in full bloom. Almond (or heliotrope), vanilla and violets say to me "Guerlain", but this is not L'Heure Bleue. A modern homage, maybe, but only vaguely inspired by the classic. Andy Tauer took all these themes and created something that to me is the ultimate in its genre. URV is so beautiful and satisfying it would take me a long time not to look at other rose-gourmands as completely redundant.

I spent a couple of hours searching for the right artwork for this review but found all those interpretations of red roses overworked and lacking. Instead, I went with the real thing by one of my favorite photographers, Declan McCullagh. Andy and him got it right in a similar way.

Une Rose Vermeille ($130, 30ml) is available from Luckyscent and tauerperfumes.com. The sample for this review was sent by the perfumer.

Photo: Red Rose Closeup by Declan McCullagh