hortus conclusus

The Goddess Flora has been giving me many little presents the past few days. Today, I stepped out on my back porch and discovered the most delicate little wild violets. Time to make candied violets, one of my spring rituals. Violets remind me of my beloved grandmother, who I still miss daily. Her backyard cobbled courtyard was always full of little wild violets which sprung up in the mortar between the slate stones. It drove her nuts to have them th ere, and she often paid me to hang out and weed the stones for her when I was growing up, but I know she also loved them. I love having candied flowers on hand for impromptu parties when I need to create a beautiful cocktail or for decorating cakes. First, I found the most gorgeous, perfect specimens available, which is sometimes difficult, as you can see; they often hide in the grass. Then I harvest them and wash them very  carefully to avoid bruising their tender petals. On the left you can see part of my lovely harvest. After they have

Tonight we are going to take a gorgeous trip through the land of vanilla. First stop: Guerlain’s Shalima r , the qu een of Orientals, the vanillic fantasy goddess. Second stop: vanilla pudding, warm. Third stop: your most comfortable, yet beautiful clothes. Fourth stop: a down comforter, and someone to cuddle with. Maybe you put on a favorite movie, maybe you just enjoy one another’s company, maybe you play a lush, gorgeous album—I suggest Caribou’s Andorra or Iron and Wine’s The Shepherd’s Dog --  and listen to it together. But as you are eating the pudding, think about the sweetness of the sugar, and the way it interacts with the cream, and the smoky softness of the vanilla. Smell the Shalimar and keep the scent in your nose and mind as you sample the pudding. Note how well the two play together.Hug the blanket closer around you and feel the fabric and the plushness caress your skin. hug your partner. Think about whether you these experiences are in accord with the vanilla pudding a

Like the James Hilton novel that began the craze for the fantasy of the lost utopian fairyland in the Himalayas, this is going to be an exercise in orientalism. After all, I have never been to Yunnan province, so I can only project my own desires and fantasies onto that place. But Orientalism, like every decadence, can be wonderful in moderation, so I invite you to come with me on a trip to Shangri-La. Since Yunnan is the original home of Camellia Sinensis , you must brew yourself some Pu-erh tea. This is a dark, earthy, yet somehow floral tea, ad it tastes exotic and unique. Sip it l ingeringly, and enjoy it while wearing Jean-Claude Ellena’s masterpiece, Hermessence Osmanthe Yunnan , which I consider to be his very best tea scent, minimalism done exactly right. Note how well the scent of the tea and the imagined floral tea interact with one another.   I also recommend watching the chapter of the BBC’s Wild China on Yunnan Province. It is absolutely gorgeous, and i