Spicy

Chinese ginger smells like biting into the rhizome itself—peppery and slightly hot, with a fresh, almost citrusy brightness underneath. Imagine the tingling warmth you feel on your tongue when eating ginger, but translated into scent: sharp and invigorating, never sweet, with subtle woody and slightly camphoraceous undertones. It's more refined than the kitchen spice; cleaner, more airy, with an almost lemony freshness that makes it feel alive on the skin.

Gourmand

Venezuelan tonka bean smells like a warm embrace of vanilla, but richer and more complex than simple sweetness. Imagine crème brûlée's caramelised sugar crust, honeyed almond paste, and a whisper of fresh-cut hay all at once. There's an almost smoky warmth underneath—like the inside of a well-aged wooden cabinet filled with dried spices. It's gourmand without being cloying: edible, comforting, yet mysteriously sophisticated, with subtle hints of dried fruit and warm leather that prevent it from being purely sugary.