In 2022, L’Artisan Parfumeur took us to their vegetable garden via their Le Potager collection. It seemed an innovative undertaking on paper, with weird ingredients such as beetroot and cauliflower on the menu. Fruits are a mainstay in perfumery, but vegetables never seem to get much of a look in. But how do these seemingly left-field notes translate once on the skin? Well, over the last month, I’ve been wearing the sample set I bought, and below are my opinions on each.
L’Artisan Parfumeur – Musc Amarante (Quentin Bisch) – Metallic Beets – 5/10.
There’s something almost metallic/silvery in the combination of elements in this beetroot-inspired perfume. Colourwise, it makes me think of red tones. Indeed, in the opening, there’s an earthiness and a rawness to the perfume, like you’ve pulled the vegetable straight from the ground, the dirt still clinging to the beetroot. Quite realistic. I enjoy the opening.
As good as the opening stages are, the dry-down disappoints. The overdose of musky ambrette anchoring the base becomes overwhelming. And I’d be surprised if there’s no Ambroxan. This note blend may result in the metallic/sterile feel I experience in the dry down. Ultimately, I’m not convinced it does a better job conveying the scent of beetroot than CDG Rouge.
L’Artisan Parfumeur – Tonka Blanc (Alexandra Carlin) – Cauliflower????? 4/10.
Tonka Blanc seemed to be the most interesting on paper. However, on skin, it’s the least adventurous of the quintet. The marketing promise of cauliflower (“Tonka Blanc is the first fragrance on the market to contain a natural vegetable extract, and I am very proud of that,” Alexandra Carlin, perfumer) turns out to be a bigger fib than a politician’s election pledge.
Of course, they wouldn’t lie, but I don’t detect cauliflower. Besides a vague creamy aspect that materialises after 10 minutes, nothing here resembles cauliflower. Instead, I perceive mostly tonka and orange and some harsh synthetic woods. Sadly, the overall effect is sweet and generic, like the scent hall of a modern department store. Regarding the L’Artisan catalogue, Tonka Blanc smells like a far inferior version of Mandarina Corsica.
L’Artisan Parfumeur – Cédrat Céruse (Quentin Bisch) – Herbal Licorice – 6.5/10.
Cédrat Céruse opens with a bright and vibrant lemon note. Fortunately, it never goes too much into the household cleaner style of lemon. Rather, it remains fresh and uplifting, and after a brief time, the citrus links with a fennel accord and coriander spice. As a result, it’s very herbal, licorice-like, peppery, and almost borders on becoming too foody.
Reminiscent of the Bastille scent, Rayon Vert, the basil scent from Hermes, or perhaps even a lighter, more daytime-appropriate version of the licorice king Lolita Lempicka au Masculin. Though, it’s much more straightforward than this trio. It won’t be for everyone, as some might struggle to shake off the associations with food.
L’Artisan Parfumeur – Vétiver Écarlate (Quentin Bisch) – Vetiver With a Side of Tomato Leaf 6.5/10.
Vétiver Écarlate presents the grassy green freshness of vetiver alongside the bitter tartness of blackcurrant, tomato leaf, and the acidic bite of grapefruit. It’s very well done, similar in style to L’Ombre dans l’Eau by Diptyque or perhaps the stemmy tartness of Olfactive Studio’s Flashback. But, like the entire collection, the composition is simple.
However, its lack of complexity serves it well. All the elements have room to breathe. As we know, grapefruit and vetiver go together like a horse and carriage. The grapefruit in the opening injects a bracing quality, bringing to life the green, woody aspects of the vetiver. Eventually, the acidity of the grapefruit recedes to the bitter pine-like nuances of the tomato leaf. The smell of tomato leaves always brings nostalgic images of summers past to mind. They’re not used often enough in the perfume world. It’s probably my second favorite from the line.
L’Artisan Parfumeur – Iris de Gris – (Quentin Bisch) – A Garden I Recall – 7/10.
But the most nostalgic for me is Iris de Gris. And not just because its green elements recall Chanel No.19. The initial green pea note reminds me of the times I picked peas from my grandma’s garden in Sydney. As a child in the early 90s, my brother and I would pull them straight off the vine/trellis and eat them raw. Bisch has somehow captured that snap, crunch, and taste sensation of the green pea with the earthy scent of the soil in the opening of Iris de Gris.
I wish that effect lasted longer, as the dry-down isn’t as compelling. As mentioned above, there are echoes of the cool green powderiness of Chanel’s No.19. The iris and galbanum combination lay a green floral bridge to the base of musks and woody ambery material. Unfortunately, Bisch’s heavy-handed use of the woody ambery material in the base leaves me cold. But it doesn’t take away from the uniqueness of that green pea opening. In fact, I can’t think of any other perfume that compares to that introductory accord.
Conclusion.
L’Artisan has done a reasonable job with these perfumes. The opening accords are certainly the most enjoyable aspects of each. Unfortunately, the dry downs rely a touch too heavily on synthetic woods. Because of these hefty, musky, woody bases, they all last about 8 hours. Still, I’d recommend trying three out of the five, and a sixty percent strike rate with any new perfume collection these days is quite good going. I think they’ll find plenty of fans, but I don’t need or want a bottle (at the time of writing, they only come in 100ml) of any of these.
Have you tried this collection? Which vegetable should they try next, if any?
Note: All the pictures are my own, except for the first picture, which comes courtesy of the L’Artisan website. I purchased the discovery set I used for these mini-reviews.