Piment Brûlant (2002)
by L'Artisan Parfumeur

The bitter smell of tomato plants, then bell pepper, weird for a fragrance.

The nose behind "Piment Brulant" was inspired by the Aztec drink "cacahuatl" and a recipe published in Spain in 1631 that blends New World cocoa, chillies, vanilla and annatto with Old World anise, cinnamon, almonds, hazelnuts, and white sugar. Plus it is now fashionable to make chocolate bars and chocolate ice creams with chilis, vanilla, and spices, which i enjoy.

Still, i was surprised by the richness, complexity, and sophistication of this perfume. The combination of aromas is astonishing, perhaps counter-intuitive, but it works beautifully!

At first spray i smelled citrus ( or perhaps the raspberry listed on some fragrance blogs), vanilla, red bell pepper, and capsicum (chili). As the scent develops more fragrances emerge, none standing out individually: non-specific, non-girly floral, intriguing spices; a hint of chocolate; and a slight warm animal undertone.

It is absolutely NOT gourmand, thank goodness. And it isn't overpowering, remaining light and gentle. I love hot spicy food and i *love* "Piment Brûlant".

Yep -- bell pepper. I enjoy unconventional scents as much as the next person, but I wish more effort had been made to make this into a wearable scent. Because there's something here -- like one component of a hypothetical, indie fragrance.

On my skin, the chile pepper note in this fragrance is dead on. Duchaufour couldn't have come any closer if he'd used actual Tabasco sauce! Unfortunately, when the chocolate note finally arrives, is a big disappointment. Besides being buried by the chile pepper, this note is the same generically sweet note that passes for chocolate, cookies, almonds etc. in so many gourmands, especially those by Theirry Mugler. Perhaps intentionally, these two notes do not blend, but rather seem to sit one on top of the other, almost in opposition.

A compelling olefactory experiment, but I think the chocolate note could have been done better.

There seems to be a consensus that this smells like bell pepper, and I agree. There's something quite unusual about a person smelling like a bell pepper, and I dare say there may be days when I'm in the mood for just that--how often do you run into someone who smells like a big, ripe vegetable? On the right skin, it just might work. Even then, though, I'd want it to last longer than this. This fragrance does have a "sweet spot" when the waxy ripeness of the bell pepper fades and turns into something sweeter (though I never get any chocolate) and is quite nice for about an hour. Then it's gone.

You know, this is a very interesting "scent", and I use that word in the technical sense. I don't feel Piment Brulant works as a stand-alone gourmand frangrance; and I wonder if it was intended as such. It is more of a fresh burst of a idea -- chocolate and chili pepper -- almost monothematic, and it's lack of persistence supports this idea. It's a playful olfactory experiment, a brief scent-definition. I put in on yesterday before I headed to the garden for some watering (heat wave in SF) and the scent was incredibly refreshing and totally mood-congruent with what I was experiencing outdoors. Today, I was making a Caribbean lime/cilantro/pepper marinade for fish, split open a Serrano pepper and was immediately greeted with the scent of Piment Brulant -- fresh, green, hot and cool at the same time.

I can imagine this scent being layered on-top of something cooler or floral, to add heat and complexity. I agree with what others have said here, but also appreciate the artistry that went into making such a Proustian scent mimic.