My experience with this one is vastly different from those who describe Aomassai as sweet, warm, or inviting. I expected this to be like a richer, more nuanced Tutti Dolci Creme Brulee, and it was, for a couple minutes at the beginning. Then Aomassai became coolly medicinal, burning my nostrils like a camphor or a menthol. (Maybe that's the celery? or the woods? both?) This persisted for nine hours. Underneath that heavy, chilly blanket slept something vaguely resembling a gourmand. The idea of this one is intriguing, and it probably is, on someone who wears it well. But I don't wear it well.