Last week the editor of Culture magazine, a periodical devoted to cheese, asked me to write a feature about a coming issue's centerfold cheese. (Instead of a naked lady, Culture features a photo of a cheese in the center of each issue, often with a slice removed to make your mouth water at its unctuous interior.) I jumped on the opportunity. Besides the money, it meant I'd get to travel to Oregon's Rogue River valley and spend the night in a restored Airstream, then pass the next day helping to milk Nigerian dwarf goats — for real! — and learn about the craft of making artisan goat cheese.
The problem was this: besides being an enthusiastic cheese consumer, I don't know the first thing about making cheese. I bought an issue of the magazine to get my feet wet and waded into a world of rennet, cure times, culture, and curds. The reviews of cheeses mention balance, texture, and accompanying food and wine. Then, at once, I knew I could do it. Thanks to perfume, I can examine quality, structure, and suitability. I may not yet know the technicalities of making cheese, but my enthusiasm for perfume has given me the ability to fully appreciate a whole menu of sensory experiences.
Thanks to perfume, now when I taste Tempranillo, I notice its acidic top and how it balances its leathery base, with the middle filled with ripe fruit and straw. Almost like a bright Parfums Grès Cabochard. Looking at someone beautifully dressed, I see the piquant top note (maybe electric blue toenails or a tattoo of chartreuse-vined morning glories or a glittering necklace or a throwaway, tattered scarf tied around an expensive handbag) with a complementary heart (could be almost any outfit, from a long, silk chiffon dress patterned with peonies to a crisp suit) and a solid base tying it all together (sepia tones, similar weight in fabrics, or an underlying mood be it romantic, powerful, edgy, or bohemian.)
As I read a story, taste soup, look at a painting, hear a song on the radio, the principles of perfume appreciation apply. Maybe they're the principles of appreciating any art, or maybe they're simply the gift of paying attention.
First is balance. Does the perfume feel whole, encompassing a full shape that changes over time but stimulates a wide spectrum of your senses? Does it stretch from the sharp to the mellow, all the while feeling in accord? A perfume, like an artful dinner entrée or a memorable painting, leaves the impression of a whole once you've experienced it. You feel a full spectrum, but the parts all harmonize. For examples, look at the classics: Guerlain Shalimar takes us from lemon to civet in a vanillic ride that is thrilling and exotic but all of a piece. Patou Joy extrait takes from the natural pairing of jasmine and wet rose and flanks them with a dark, civety base and a neroli-bright flash of an opening.
Does it feel natural? Is the combination pleasing? Maybe this is obvious, but unlike a speedo with an Armani blazer, or milk and gin, whatever it is you're experiencing needs to go together well and feel intentional.
Does it surprise? Something that is beautifully balanced and almost obvious in its combination but fails to surprise on some level can bore. Imagine wearing a pants suit and a string of pearls. Nice and proper for a business meeting, but predictable and dowdy. So many perfumes are like that. Now, take that freshly pressed pants suit and add a silk chiffon blouse from the early 1960s with an apricot, pink, and mint print of palm trees and harem girls on it. Do your hair in a messy updo and add wickedly high heels. It works and surprises at the same time. This is style. In perfume this is the daring that separates the run-of-the-mill fruit and patchouli or floral woody musk from the memorable risk that ultimately created Thierry Mugler Angel and Chanel No. 5. I think it is also part of the beauty of L'Artisan Parfumeur Nuit de Tubéreuse. It balances beautifully, but is still an original.
Being a perfume amateur gives more than the gift of smelling good. I think in appreciating perfume I can appreciate so much more of what crosses my path. Have you noticed your appreciation of perfume affecting how you experience the rest of your life?
Note: image is Du Fromage by daskerst at flickr; some rights reserved.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, cheese porn! I didn’t make it to Portland this summer, sadly, but I can enjoy your writing. And this is an interesting topic — I was just thinking about something similar yesterday, in conjunction with going to see Inception — and an art exhibit — how much do we have to “think” about a perfume if we are to enjoy it? Should it be easy or a little more work?
Such an interesting question, March.
I find I enjoy things more when my brain is engaged–otherwise it wanders off to other realms…
For me it really depends, but I find I’m that way with lots of things. For instance, next to my bed is a cheap mystery and Mitchell’s Ghostwritten, depending on how engaged (and what kind of engaged) I want to be.
…maybe it can be both: easy sometimes, when you want easy, and hard when you want a little more stimulation. Sometimes all I want is Jean Nate, and other times I want the challenge of Crepe de Chine or My Sin.
I hope you make it to Portland soon! I promise you a great time.
It was all I could do not to laugh out loud here in the office at that first line!
Same here! I think we are all better people for knowing about the existence of the centerfold cheese.
Maybe we need centerfold bottles of perfume!
No, I meant the first line of Angela’s comment right above mine!
Cheese porn for real!
It is real! My daughter is a cheese specialist at Central Market in Austin and has been in Europe all summer studying cheese making in England and France. I’ve noticed that her preferences in perfume changing, though I’m not sure if it is a due to her cheese and wine studies, outgrowing Coco Mlle., or simply being exposed to a wider variety of classic perfumes due to my own obsession (her taste in perfume has certainly gotten more expensive the more time she spends in my perfume closet). I’m sure it is a combination of all three but she has been training her nose as a cheesemonger the same way we do with perfumes, or oenologists do with wine. I have found that she no longer likes fruity/floral and is expressing a distinct preference for a little skank in her perfumes now. In her case, it seems like her experience with appreciating cheese is certainly influencing the way she perceives other things in her life.
That’s so interesting! I love it that she’s developing an interest in perfumes with a little more skank, especially when you consider the skankiness of some cheeses!
Rapple, I totally missed that! Ha! I’m usually the one with my mind in the gutter.
I didn’t get it either! Calling Dr. Freud…
I literally did snort! 😀
Well, clearly I agree with you Angela, since I’ve wandered off into fragrant foods and liquids (tea, essences, whiskey, wine…). Though maybe I should say I’ve wandered back, since I’ve been a food person way longer than a perfumista. I find perfume appreciation translates beautifully to music as well, since perfume has borrowed so many of its metaphors from that world anyway.
I can definitely see perfume relating to music! It would be interesting to write something on that.
I’ve done a lot of food writing, too, but mostly it has been about the food producers (fishers, ranchers, farmers, bakers) rather than the actual food. The cheese article will have a big focus on the farm that makes the cheese, too.
I’ll take it even further…maybe it’s that our brains are more capable of processing all these differences and that’s why we are so enchanted with perfume?
I can’t help but notice on all the perfume blogs that most of us are all fairly sensual creatures in all aspects of life.
I’ve noticed that, too! A perfume lover is likely to enjoy all sorts of pleasures. I can’t remember who said it, but I remember someone famous saying she would never sleep with someone who couldn’t enjoy a good dinner. Maybe the same is true about perfume?
I certainly couldn’t be in a relationship with someone who didn’t love perfume. (And being allergic to it would definitely be a deal-breaker.) 🙂
Not everyone likes perfume right away–at least they might think they don’t–but they should be open to it. Plus, they should like animals.
Oh if we’re going to get into THAT list, then get comfortable! lol!
I definitely could not be with someone who didn’t like animals. Of course, if I was single and anyone interested knew that I had five cats, they’d know right away whether they wanted to run or stay.
Yes, the list… I used to say I could never be with someone who wasn’t into music, but I somehow let that criteria slip.
I have a magnet on my fridge that has two comic-book-style women – one is saying, “He said we had to choose, him or the animals. We miss him sometimes.”
I need one of those magnets! I’m keeping my eyes open for one.
Totally agree with this, Joliefleurs! But I’ll go you one better and say I’ve noticed that we tend to be intellectual sensualists. Big readers and thinkers, as well as appreciaters of the good life. We like to analyze our pleasures… It’s one of the huge things that made me feel like I’d finally found my tribe when I found perfumistas!
And that’s a great quote, Angela.
Perfect characterization Alyssa – that’s why I enjoy communicating with y’all so much!
I agree, and glad you enjoyed the quote!
Your comment about intellectual sensualists is right on, Alyssa. I tend to become obsessive about things I love and I’m compelled to research whatever it is to death. I want to know everything there is to know about whatever the subject may be. Perfume smelling good is only one facet for me. I want to know why and how it smells good, the history of its creation, romantic ideas associated with it, how the bottle was designed, and how it has changed over time. I also want to discuss it at length with other people who share my obsession because no matter how much I think I know about a perfume, other perfumistas give me new insight and knowledge that I might not be able to attain on my own. I’m often accused of being too “thinky” – but the simple fact that something smells/tastes/feels good isn’t always satisfying to me. Sometimes I’m not so sure that is a good thing. I’m trying to slow down and simply enjoy something without analyzing it to death. I do that with books, too. I can’t just enjoy a novel set in Victorian England (or whatever) without spending weeks or months researching and reading about the socioeconomic and cultural factors that may have caused the characters to make the choices they did, non-fiction accounts of similar situations, etc. Maybe I should go back to grad school or something.
I bet you’re a fascinating person to talk to, since you’re so interested in things.
Whenever anyone asks me why I’m so obsessed with perfumes and the art of fragrance, I’m going to direct them to this post. You’ve beautifully described the depth of joy, fun and vibrancy that I get from being a hopeless fragrance fanatic. Thanks for putting it into words for us.
I’m so glad you enjoyed it!
I need you to dress me! 😉
Great article, and I now want to read the cheese article. Artisan goat cheese? Be still my beating heart!
I love to dress people! Give me half a chance and I’m there.
The farm I’m profiling is Pholia Farm, and apparently the milk of these dwarf goats is especially high in protein and fat–perfect for cheese. I can’t wait to try some and find out.
Sounds delicious! I LOVE goat cheese.
You and me both!
So do I, but I am one of the unfortunates who gets a migraine when I eat cheese. Same thing with red wine. As I mentioned earlier, my daughter is a cheesemonger and the cheese plates and wine pairings she puts together are to die for and I can’t partake at all. Argh! Unfortunately large doses of aldehydes also trigger migraines so I am deprived of three things that give such pleasure.
Oh! What a shame!
Love the cheese theme! I used to work in a cheese shop in London as a student, and my postgrad thesis was about the chances of selling more English cheeses to the French – you may well guess the answer! : – )
That is an interesting point about “difficulty” and “accessibility” in relation to perfume. I also think about books in those terms. My dad was an English academic, and dissected every line of every book he read, while my mother was proud to say that she had never read a work of literary criticsim about another book, and just wanted to enjoy a good story. I think “the truth” in perfume terms may lie somewhere between easy, breezy Daisy and the challenging depths of Mitsouko… Or as Angela said, you can opt to toggle between the two extremes depending on your whim!
I like your comparison to literature. Like your mother, I love a good story, and often that’s enough for me. But there’s nothing better than a story that feels freshly told and makes me think about it.
I almost went into art rehab after I got my MA in Art History. I got so tired of the minute analysis of every little darned thing. It was a joy indeed when I could again walk into a gallery or museum and just be awed by an amazing piece of art – the impact of it. I think it is true what you say about literature as well and fragrances – there is something in between knowing too much and knowing too little. There is joy in the experience of it.
And sometimes it’s nice not to think about it at all!
Flittersniffer – you referred to “the challenging depths of Mitsouko”, but that makes me wonder if it’s not a bit like the observer influencing the experiment. Do we all *think* Mitsouko is challenging because numerous blogs and critiques have told us it is? I ask because I started wearing Mitsouko in high school, probably at the age of 16, and I chose it because it felt simple and sporty to me! Shalimar, which everyone else was choosing, felt too dressy and sweet.
Such a good point, Rapp. I found Mitsouko too challenging to wear until I finally tried some vintage parfum. Then my thought was, “This is challenging? I feel like I could wear this everyday for the rest of my life!”
It was the vintage EdC that really turned me around, too.
You were advanced! I think Mitsouko is difficult for people today, and its mysteriousness is why it’s so worthwhile to get to know. I know some people love it at first sniff, but I didn’t.
I don’t think so Angela. In the pre-historic/pre-internet days, Mitsouko was simply another bottle on the perfume counter at McAlpins!
You don’t give yourself enough credit!
My jaw dropped… Mitsy feels uncomplicated and simple for you?
When I first tried it, all I knew was that a) it was “classic,” and b) Perfumes: The Guide mentioned “angelic raiment” and “spooky beauty” in connection with it – so that’s what I was expecting.
NOT.
So I’m a bit jealous. OTOH, L’Arte di Gucci grabbed me with both hands and hung on right from the start, and I had no idea that it was supposedly difficult, either.
See – that’s what I mean. You came to Mitsouko with expectations of a mysterious, classic beauty but had none for the Gucci. I wonder what our perceptions of MANY perfumes would be if we tested blind?
I do remember reading of such a test (unfortunately can’t remember where) and Old Spice was judged to be an expensive classic!
I thought Misty was really tough, but now I love it and we get along great! L’Arte is like a long velvet slide – no troubles there at all!
…or “criticism” even. I woz the spellin’ chumpion at skool!
Me two!
Me three!
How funny! Me four!
I’m afraid that I have to share my “me five!” with this other girl from school with whom it was always like “the spelling death-match”….so maybe I can say: me 4.5 !!
of course, if they had been “punctuation bees” I would have been toast….as you all know: I make up my own! 😉
I have found that focusing on fragrance, and by extension, smells in general I’ve added great depth to my experience of simply being here. It’s sort of like that movie of a few years ago where it started in black and white and bit by bit it became color.
It’s been like connecting neurons or something – by creating a fragrance vocabulary I’ve learned how to translate back and forth into and out of that lexicon. Am I in training for full-on synesthesia? Sometimes I think I’m halfway there at least!
If nothing else, perfume has helped teach me to *pay attention*.
I really understand the “paying attention” part. Perfume has definitely helped me really see, smell, and taste.
Nigerian dwarf goats are the cutest damn things prancing the earth!! I’m not kidding (LOL) they’re adorable. Have fun on the cheese farm and great article.
The photos look adorable! I can’t wait to see them.
I was always smell oriented even as a little girl. Smells always had a great affect on me as a child – the smell of my feather pillow, the smell of my mother’s home baked bread, the smell of the woods and meadows near our house, animals in the barn, the smell of snow and lightening. And always gardens, flowers and vegetables! I think that I was always poised to seek good smelling things – it was only natural that I was drawn to fragrances. What I think has happened to me now is that the predominance of laundry type synthetics in the market has made me appreciate the value of natural smells and what an art it is to copy them well. (I’m taking another astonished whiff of the Nahema I’m wearing today!)
I am grateful for online boutiques and vendors that my nose is able to seek out some of the most beautiful and challenging fragrances in the world. I am grateful that I can own some of these fragrances and enjoy them at will. It would be depressing indeed if I was only able to smell the mediocre predominance of synthetic fragrances that so poorly reflect nature and my memories of different smells.
And, btw, lucky you about the cheese farm! Goats are so mean and so cute! I hope you have a really interesting experience.
Well, then, perfume is a natural for you! (Isn’t Nahema wonderful?)
Goats are mean, huh?
Not all goats! B. has some at her work (which is a weird addition to a non-profit), and they’re really sweet. When they were younger you could carry them around. 🙂 I actually wouldn’t mind having goats. Although I don’t like some of my neighbors, so maybe I need to find some of those mean goats!
A cute, dwarf guard goat! Plus, it would take care of any blackberry problem you might have.
Goats are great for natural weed control, and it probably doesn’t take much to find a mean one!
A driver on the #10? #14 told me some lawn goat in SE climbed onto the bus at a time stop and wanted to go for a ride, lol. (I figure it was just trying to get to the Perfume House, lol)
I got chased down by a goat when I was a kid, but I am sure there are some real cute ones out there!
That’s hilarious!
Yes! The goat riding TriMet was on the news when that happened! They actually had footage of it getting on the bus. 🙂 It was pretty cute.
Oh Ann…. I didn’t think anyone besides my younger brother and I appreciated the smell of a feather pillow! I still have the last one my great aunt made for us – it was my brother’s and I stole it! lol! Bad karma!
And I meant to say also that you perfectly articulated how I feel about the difference between natural smells as well as the perfumes which use them, and synthetic scents. Thank you!
Thanks Rapp! I’ve been thinking about you this week: I tested some vintage Coco parfum the other day. It smells a lot like Fendi – which really surprised me. It could just be “condensed” with age, but the rich leather/spices/paprika type smell in Coco was really close to Fendi for a while before drying down to the normal Coco smell. I was thinking I should send a bit to you so you can smell yourself how similar they are.
Believe it or not, I’ve never smelled Coco, vintage or otherwise. I *did* almost buy a bottle of supposedly vintage off of the auction site – unsiffed! – but chickened out. So if you get around to it, I’d love a sniff!
What Wha What???? You of the Fendi never smelled Coco? If you didn’t tell me yourself, I’d never believe it.
Ok, well, I’ll be taking care of that REALLY soon! Good heavens. One edt, one edp, one parfum and one vintage parfum coming up! You get the full treatment, lol.
Does it smell like the person who used it–or just like feathers?
Ok – the best I can do is say that it smells like a cross between the smell of rising bread dough, clean cat fur (or bird feathers on a live bird), and top of baby head.
What a delicious-sounding combo!
I’d add just the slightest bit of a resinous smell as well. Great job Ann – I don’t think I could have come up with an answer to save me!
Yes, resinous or even dry salty – there is that aroma that I just can’t really describe.
I held on to what ended up being a near emaciated rag of that feather pillow and almost cried when my Mom had to finally get rid of it. I think sometimes I’ve been searching for that smell ever since!
A Cuban friend of mine calls that down-pillow smell “el olorcito de sueño” — the whiff of sleep/dreams (it sounds so much more poetic in Spanish!).
That’s beautiful!
Oh gosh! I’m going to write that down. Thanks Natalie!!
Ah, that’s wonderful. Sounds so beautiful in Spanish! (I hope that’s Spanish, lol.) I’ll have to write that down too.
And I notice that a lot of modern “down” products that you can get at the department stores don’t have that lovely smell. Maybe they have to be treated for sanitation or other modern issues, or maybe it’s just because there are other fillers involved besides just lovely down. But they never smell the same.
It always seems to be those scents we can’t have anymore that were the sweetest (big sigh here.)
What a great article. I agree, perfume has really taught me the importance of harmony and originality. I’m an art student and while I was on a bit of hiatus from school, I gorged into the world of perfume. And contrary to the concern of those around me, it actually enhanced my sensibilities and I pay more attention than ever when I plan out my works or observe other pieces.
It also doesn’t hurt that I’m not such a great conversationalist, but hardly any women refuse when I take out my sample stash and ask them if they’d like to try and find something they like. Perfumes have seriously enriched my life!
How interesting that perfume affects your art!
I know I’d have a hard time resisting someone offering me a sniff of something new.
Ditto that!
I pity the woman who isn’t moved by that gesture.
Wonderful review, Angela! It and this whole thread really sum up why NST feels like ‘home’. It is wonderful to be reading about perfume and getting book, art and music recommendations at the same time. ‘Intellectual sensualists’ definitely seems an apt description! Starting out on the perfumista path has definitely made me pay attention to nuances in all areas of my life. Also, now having two daughters of my own I am very conscious of wanting to create ‘scent-memories’ for them. I have wonderful ones of my childhood and I want to carry some of them on as a tradition, like the orange- glazed spice muffins my mom used to make every Christmas morning. When both my girls were newborns the first fragrance I put on was Shalimar as it is my all- time fave/staple and I like the idea of then smelling it and thinking of me!
Your daughters are so lucky! Shalimar is a wonderful scent to be associated with, too.
Speaking of extending into fragrant food and drink this post might be of interest:
http://indieperfumes.blogspot.com/
It focuses on a natural perfumer who has created essences that can be added to cocktails, things like black pepper oil and Jasmine and coriander essences. There are recipes and a link to her website as well. They all sound delicious!
Thanks for the reading! Once I made lavender vodka for cocktails, and it was pretty darned good.
This may be sort of a weird response to the question of perfume affecting other experiences in life, but I’m sure no one will hesitate to tell me so if that’s the case. 🙂 For me, having a hearing impairment and a balance disorder have led to me wanting to experience other sensory experiences much more fully. It may be the feeling that having any of our senses intact may be fleeting, or just that I am more apt to appreciate the senses that aren’t impaired. Whatever the reason, I feel like I crave more visual, tactile, gustatory, and olfactory experience than the average person. (I am not including any of you in the “average person” category, fear not.) I am compelled to write, paint and draw while I can, and I would be very depressed if I did not have music, perfume and good food in my life. I think perfume is one more thing that makes life that much richer, and while this sounds dramatic, it’s part of what makes life worth living for me.
Tell it, sister. If I could start speaking in tongues right now I would.
I am going to totally butcher this paraphrase. I saw this documentary of Jackie O years ago about her later years. They were going on about how she was able to accomplish so much in her life. She said something like people are always waiting for inspiration to knock on their doors (before they do anything), but, she said, you have to go out in the world and find your inspiration and just get to it.
Miss Kitty – it sounds like you are just getting to it! Making the best of the life you have is the only thing to do – there isn’t another one. Unless you believe in reincarnation, lol, and then I suppose you can just go for it in multiple existences!!
Good old Jackie O. Great story, and one I’ll remember.
I must confess to a visual “thing”, but it is more focused on light, or the quality of it. I can watch a window with a soft lightly billowing off-white, bordering on pale yellow sheer curtain, thickly draped, for at least half an hour at a time. I know, weird! But the changing light and shadows with the sunlight coming from the top and drifting through the various moving layers is just fascinating to me. Now that I have regained my sense of smell, I take a deep breath of the Divine I am wearing (or was, last time I did this), close my eyes, and I am in total heaven. I am also really into stained glass and all the shades and qualities of clear, watery, wavy, etc…. And you are right, Miss Kitty V, these things do make life worth living.
I hope you do something visual in your work life–it sounds integral to who you are.
No, unfortunately, I don’t. But I do, so very much, love what I do, regardless. It is integral, you are right. I never really thought of that before. I just thought everyone saw the same things I saw until I voiced my “pleasure” a couple of times and found I was alone in a crowd. It seems the same with perfume as well. Oh well! They now become secret pleasures that I can indulge in, and no one else knows!
There is something nice about those secret pleasures. But still, I bet you have real talent visually, not just enjoyment, and it would be a pity not to share that.
FO&W – I have two leaded glass votive holders that I purchased several years ago at a juried craft show, and I can watch the sunlight prism through them for hours. So nice to *not* be alone in this!
You are never alone!
Hugs!
Preach it, sister!
What a lovely article!
Ever since I read the novel The Perfume, I have been interested in perfumes. And when I started to go on “trips” to Holt to get some samples with my mom, I have started to become interested in so many things, such as litterature, painting, and so many things that are linked somehow to perfume. Plus, I can’t begin a day properly without putting some perfume. 😀 I guess you can say that’s how perfume has had an impact on me.
I’m so glad perfume is opening doors for you–like it has for me! Plus, what a great thing to be able to do with your mother.
Those cheeses in that picture are gorgeous! Congrats on the article – sounds like a wonderful experience. Alas, I am finding that dairy products are not residing happily within me any more, so am steering clear. I do let a bit of cheese sneak in now and again – I don’t need to be hyper-vigilant.
I think intellectual sensualists is a good description of a lot of us. I have always liked perfumes and different smalls and tastes, have always wanted to try the new flavors of this and that, just to SEE. I have a lot of scent associations – my grandpa’s tomatoes, my grandma’s jonquils – but love adding more! I sniff, taste, touch, listen, examine, so much around me. I remember one time I was floored by an especially beautiful sky when I was leaving work – I said to one of my co-workers “Look at that sky!!”. She looked puzzled, looked up, and said “I don’t care about the SKY! I only care about money!” I never felt sorrier for anyone in my whole life.
Have you tried sheeps milk cheeses? I have a friend who doesn’t do well with cow’s milk cheese and only slightly better with goat’s milk cheese, but sheep’s milk cheeses (feta, pecorino, lots more) don’t bother her at all.
I can’t believe your co-worker actually said that! Maybe (to look on the impossibly bright side) it’s the tarry smell of money, its cloth-like texture and faded green that draw her in. Or not.
Oh, yes, I have tried sheep cheese – it’s good and I do okay – I am not super-intolerant, mostly I get heartburn now. I figure it’s better for me to ease up on the dairy anyway. I’m becoming kind of a carni-vegan, because I must eat meat now and again or I’m afraid I’ll start sucking blood out of people’s necks.
That’s funny! (Not the heartburn–nothing funny about that.)
Have you tried raw milk cheeses? If not, do try them before you give up altogether. A lot of times it is the pasteurization that makes cheese (and milk) undigestible for folks.
The other thing with milk is whether it has an A1 or A2 protein. One of them, A1 I think, is more likely to cause problems/intolerance and in some countries the dairy herd has been bred back to A2. Freisan cattle produce A1 and Jersey A2, for example. Milk is available here (Australia) that is specifically labelled A2. The other yuck (technical term) in milk can be caused by cattle being given chemicals to stimulate greater milk production; organic milk producers won’t use these chemicals and so their milk is a safer bet too. Now I’m off to knit a sweater made out of unbleached biodynamic vegetables.
Seraph, that is fascinating! I’ve switched to organic dairy mostly because I did an interview of a dairy farmer once, and was so astonished at the difference in how organic v. conventional herds are kept that I vowed to buck up and spend the extra money for the good stuff.
That is really sad about your coworker. Noticing those moments of beauty hiding in everyday life is what keeps me happy too. Most people don’t even bother to really see what is around them.
I agree with both of you. Can you imagine missing the magic of a sun shower with the sparkly rain, like crystals, set on a deep thick gray background and just “getting wet” instead? Sad for them, but not for us, as we find joy in these things. I’d rather choose to be happy.
I’m just impressed that someone liked your writing so much that they asked you to write an article about cheese when you hadn’t done it before – that’s awesome. Because first of all, your writing is awesome. And second of all – CHEESE! Cheese is awesome and the trip sounds awesome too.
I never really thought about the layers thing – but it’s so true and I hope that I’ll start thinking about things more that way too.
Thank you for all the nice thoughts! I do some freelance writing for regional magazines, and one of them is a food magazine. The editor of Culture needed a local writer to profile the farm that makes the centerfold cheese, and another editor I work with regularly suggested me. It was a gift from the blue.
I wonder if perfume affects your perceptions in ways you’ve never really honed in on? You might be surprised.
Wonderful review and I loved how you explained the quests for balance, surprise, the unfolding……..all the mysterious and volatile components that gives us that throbbing mystery of scent. Thank you!
Thank you! I think those are the qualities I look for in other things, too: a good dinner, a gorgeous dress, music, a novel.
Late to the party, and another wonderful essay Angela!
Re: goats.
Many years ago, a goat ate my paycheck, pulled it right out the book I was reading, while I was reading it. Stood just in front of me and starting chewing away. His nonchalance was kind of endearing. Plus, he was doing the helicopter thing with his ears (spinning them around in circles) while he was chewing. It was so cute that it was worth the effort of requesting a reissued check.
I wish I had been there to hear you describe that one to the payroll department. “Uh, I need a new paycheck. Yeah, uh, a goat ate my old one.”
Especially like the twirling ears detail.
What a priceless story!!
lol – that’s much better than my goat experience. We went to the petting zoo when I was 6 and my sister was 3. She was feeding the goat, when it decided to eat the bow on her dress – so there she is screaming bloody murder, my mom is pulling the bow out of the goat’s mouth, and the goat isn’t too happy either. She finally gets the tie out of the goat’s mouth and, of course, it’s covered in goat slime – so my sister is screaming bloody murder during my mom’s attempts to wipe goat bile off of my sister’s dress.
Apparently, I spent this entire time trying to feed other animals and ignoring my sister’s plight. In my defense, she screamed bloody murder about lots of stuff (still does) – so I could hardly be expected to realize that a goat was trying to eat her.
Your story reminds me that when I was a little girl a llama tried to eat my ponytail holder off my hair at the Pittsburgh Zoo… I wasn’t too happy about that either!
Reminds me of when I was liitle and a chimp stole my swimming costume and put it over the bars and started swinging on it and wouldn’t give it back even when squirted with water. He did give it back in the end though in exchange for a cigarette. He must have been so bored poor little thing.
A chimp that smokes. Addiction is not confined just to us. lol. Cute story!
I had no idea zoos were so entertaining–and hilarious!
I’m wishing I could find that blouse you describe, Angela!
I have it! I was describing a vintage blouse I have. It’s from the 1950s by Sir James and has a Garfinkel’s department store tag inside. The print on the fabric is worthy of framing.
Wonderful. I’m glad this blouse is really yours, not just a daydream!
Great article. Very stimulating. Shut up Rappleyea.
What a smug lot we are, us appreciaters of beauty, while the philistine horde sweeps mindlessly by. It is endlessly wonderful how profoundly moving true beauty can be. The smugness seems so unavoidable. As Oscar said “We are all in the gutter, only some of us are looking at the stars”.
….and those of us looking at the stars are slated by beauty but stained by sanctimoniousness (if that’s a word.) Oh well, it’s tough being superior. At least we’re not chimps jonesing for cigarettes.