Eau DÂ’Épices by Tauer, 2010

Eau d'Épices begins with the eponymous spices. Cardamom, cumin, pepper, cinnamon and goodness knows what else fly into the air, as if leaping out of a basket that's just been thrown at the sun. They descend onto a landscape that's part terracotta, part summer orchard, where the pungency of orange blossom competes with the resinous waft of incense. There's a hint of dryness in the air, a sense of crackling heat. And then things become really impressive. Three different forces engage in a tug-of-war - ambery wood, frankincense and indolic floral - but instead of cancelling each other out, they all manage to make their presence felt with clarity and insane longevity. Those of us who've played around with pipettes and essential oils will appreciate that this feat is nothing short of astonishing.

Whether or not you'll actually like it is another matter. I'd be lying if I said I fell in love with it straight away. There's a particular note hovering around the floral section - a vaguely synthetic, green citrus - that I found difficult to ignore, although it's much less pronounced on paper than on skin. By no means did it spoil the entire experience, but it did distract from the other, more pleasurable elements. Having said that, the fragrance yielded several compliments from those caught in its sillage, with comments ranging from, "It smells like amazingly fresh air," to "It smells like walking into a warm house on a freezing cold day." In other words: sniff before you buy! Personally, I haven't yet been able to shower Eau D'Épices with total adoration, but there is no doubt that it's a worthy addition to the Tauer line and that it commands all my respect.