The smell of peanut butter on good white bread, delivered on the consoling breath of a lover in a meadow. Tahini, hemp and fennel seeds, hazelnut butter, honey, oats; it's a health food store whos who. If I were forced to pick one descriptor? Peanut shell, which gets at both the nuttiness of Jean-Claude Ellénas composition as well as its woodiness. This is a mellow, doughy angle on the iris-and-cedar theme Elléna explored in the earlier Bois d'Iris for The Different Company (2000), whose top notes are peculiarly edible. Or, if the almond note here were amplified, we'd be approaching an oven-warmed version of Ellénas L'Eau d'Hiver for Frederic Malle, likewise released in 2003. But Bois Farine is original, moreish and uncanny in a way that neither of these two are, excellent as they might be.