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Bond No. 9 Little Italy
Suzanne’s Perfume Journal
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A Conversation on Arabie

A Package from Christos: Greek Sandals & Oud Cuir d'Arabie

A Package from Ines

A Package from Lavanya

A More Affordable Olfactionary

A Week of Wearing What I Like

Amouage Dia (pour femme)

Amouage Dia (pour homme)

Amouage Epic Woman

Amouage Gold

Amouage Interlude Man

Amouage Jubilation 25 

Amouage Lyric Woman

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Amouage Opus I

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Annick Goutal Vanille Charnelle

April Aromatics Calling All Angels

April Aromatics Bohemian Spice

April Aromatics Jasmina 

April Aromatics Nectar of Love

April Aromatics Rose L'Orange

Aroma M Geisha Green

Aroma M Geisha Rouge

Arquiste Anima Dulcis

Arquiste Boutonniere no. 7

At the Moment (Chanel 22 & Marshall Crenshaw)

At the Moment (Contemplating Change & Habit Rouge)

At the Moment (Marron Chic & Paris)

At the Moment (More Midsummer Delights/Epic/Geisha Noire)

At the Moment (Saki & Lubin Idole edt)

At the Moment (Secret de Suzanne /D'Orsay L'Intrigante)

At the Moment (Spring Pretties/Un Air de Samsara)

At the Moment (Summery Things...Love Coconut)

At the Moment (Vera Wang & Fireman's Fair novel)

Ava Luxe Café Noir

Beatnik Emptiness Incense

Best of 2009

Bond No. 9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory

Bond No. 9 Brooklyn

Bond No. 9 Little Italy

Bond No. 9 New Haarlem

Bottega Veneta eau de parfum

Breath of God

Byredo Green

By Kilian Amber Oud

By Kilian Forbidden Games and In the City of Sin

Calyx by Prescriptives

Canturi by Stefano Canturi

Capote, Truman & Evening in Paris

Carner Barcelona D600

Caron Aimez-Moi

Caron French Cancan

Caron Parfum Sacre

Caron Tabac Blond

Caron Tubereuse

Caron Yatagan

Cartier II L'Heure Convoitee

Cartier IV L'Heure Fougueuse

Chanel 31 Rue Cambon

Chanel Bel Respiro

Chanel Chance

Chanel Coco

Chanel Coromandel

Chanel Cuir de Russie

Chanel Egoiste

Chanel No. 5 (vintage)

Chanel No. 22

Chantecaille Petales

Chantilly Dusting Powder

Clive Christian C for Women

Comme des Garcons Daphne

Comme des Garcons LUXE Champaca

Comme des Garcons Series 7 Sweet Nomad Tea

Costes by Costes

Coty Ambre Antique

Coty Chypre

Coty Paris

Creature by Kerosene

Creed Acqua Fiorentina

Creed Fleurs de Bulgarie

Creed Virgin Island Water

DSH Perfumes Bancha Extreme

DSH Perfumes Quinacridone Violet 

DSH Perfumes Vert pour Madame


Devilscent Project

Dior Diorissimo (vintage)

Donna Karan Black Cashmere

EnVoyage Vents Ardents

EnVoyage Zelda

Estee Lauder Private Collection

Estee Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss

Etat Libre d'Orange Rien, Rossy de Palma & Noel au Balcon

Faberge Woodhue Cologne

Favorite Fall Fragrances

Fendi Uomo

Fragrances for Sweden

Frapin 1697 Absolu Parfum

Frederic Malle Angeliques Sous La Pluie

Frederic Malle Bigarade Concentrée

Frederic Malle Carnal Flower

Frederic Malle Dans Tes Bras

Frederic Malle Geranium Pour Monsieur

Frederic Malle Iris Poudre

Frederic Malle Le Parfum de Therese

Frederic Malle Lipstick Rose

Frederic Malle Noir Epices

Frederic Malle Portrait of a Lady

Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie

Frederic Malle Une Rose

Geoffrey Beene Grey Flannel

Ghosts of Perfumes Past, Present & Future

Gone Fishin'

Gucci Eau de Parfum

Gucci L'Arte di Gucci

Gucci Pour Homme

Guerlain Angelique Noire

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia

Guerlain Aroma Allegoria Exaltant

Guerlain Attrape Coeur

Guerlain Chamade

Guerlain Encens Mythique d'Orient

Guerlain Jicky

Guerlain Mayotte

Guerlain Parure

Guerlain Samsara Parfum

Guerlain Un Air de Samsara

Guerlain Vega

Guerlain Vetiver (vintage)

Guy Laroche J'ai Ose (vintage)

Happy Solstice

Hermes 24, Faubourg

Hermes Caleche (vintage)

Hermes Eau des Merveilles

Hermes Hiris

Hermes Iris Ukiyoe

Hermes Jour d'Hermes

Hermes L'Ambre des Merveilles

Histoires de Parfums 1740

Histoires de Parfums 1828

Histoires de Parfums Blanc Violette

Histoires de Parfums Vert Pivoine

Hometown Portrait, State College, PA

Honore des Pres Vamp a NY

House of Matriarch Carmine

How I Store Decants

Il Profumo Cannabis

In Memory (w/mention of Lanvin Arpege)

Jacomo #02

Jacomo #09 (Link to my review in Sniffapalooza Magazine)

Jean Desprez Bal a Versailles

Jean Patou Joy

Jean Patou 1000

Jo Malone Saffron Cologne Intense

Jo Malone Sweet Milk Cologne 

Juliet by Juliet Stewart

Kai Eau de Parfum

Kenzo Jungle l’Elephant

Kenzo Summer

Lancome Magie Noire (vintage) 

Lanvin Via Lanvin (vintage) 

L'Artisan Parfumeur Nuit de Tubereuse

L'Artisan Parfumeur Orchidee Blanche 

L’Artisan Parfumeur Passage d’Enfer

L'Artisan Parfumeur Seville a l'Aube

L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two

L’Artisan Parfumeur Traversee du Bosphore

La Via del Profumo Balsamo Della Mecca

La Via del Profumo Hindu Kush

La Via del Profumo Milano Caffe

La Via del Profumo Oud Caravan Project

La Via del Profumo Sharif

La Via del Profumo Tawaf

Le Labo Gaiac 10

Le Labo Iris 39

Le Labo Patchouli 24

Le Labo Poivre 23

Little Lists

Lorenzo Villoresi Yerbamate

M. Micallef Vanille Orient

Maison Francis Kurkdjian Absolue Pour le Soir

Maison Martin Margiela (untitled) eau de parfum

Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier Eau des Iles

Message In A Bottle 

Michael Storer Winter Star

Miller Harris L'Air de Rien


Missoni (original) by Missoni

Molinard Habanita

Mona Di Orio Nuit Noire

Mona Di Orio Oud

Mona Di Orio Vanille

Montale Black Aoud

Montale Boise Vanille

Montale Intense Tiare

Montale Patchouli Leaves

Montale Red Aoud

More Roses (rose cookie recipe)

My Heart Has Skipped a Beat (summer smells)

My Perfumes Have Theme Songs

Nasomatto China White

Neila Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling

Nina Ricci L'Air du Temps

Nez a Nez Ambre a Sade

Northern Exposure "A Dash of Chanel No. 5"

Odin 04 Petrana (Link to my review in Sniffapalooza Magazine)

Olivier Durbano Black Tourmaline

Omar Sharif Pour Femme

Oriscent Pure Oud Oils

Ormonde Jayne Frangipani

Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Woman

Oscar de la Renta Oscar for Men

O Tannenbaum Joint Blog Project

Parfum d'Empire Azemour

Parfum d'Empire Cuir Ottoman

Parfum d'Empire Equistrius

Parfum d'Empire Musc Tonkin

Parfum d'Empire 3 Fleurs

Parfumerie Generale Aomassai

Parfumerie Generale Bois de Copaiba

Parfumerie Generale Indochine

Parfumerie Generale Un Crime Exotique

Parfums de Nicolai Sacrebleu

Parfums DelRae Amoureuse

Parfums Karl Lagerfeld Sun Moon Stars

Parfums MDCI Chypre Palatin

Parfums Retro Grand Cuir

Paris, je t'aime

Pascal Morabito Or Black 

Perfume Quotes - The English Patient

Prada Infusion d'Iris Absolue

Pretty Perfume Bottles 

Prince Matchabelli Aviance Cologne (vintage) 

Profumum Roma Acqua Viva

Profumum Roma D'Ambrosia

Puredistance I

Puredistance Antonia

Puredistance BLACK

Puredistance M

Puredistance Opardu

Puredistance WHITE

Ramon Monegal Cherry Musk

Ramon Monegal Cuirelle

Ramon Monegal Pure Mariposa

Recipe for Socca

Regina Harris Amber Vanilla Perfume Oil

Regina Harris Frankincense-Myrrh-Rose Maroc Perfume Oil

Robert Piguet Fracas

Robert Piguet Visa

Rochas Mystere 

Rome Vacation Photos

Sammarco Perfumes Bond-T

San Francisco Holiday

Sarah Horowitz Parfums' Joy Comes From Within & Beauty Comes From Within

Scented Reading

Scents of the Mediterranean

Scentuous Reading: One Hundred Years of Solitude

Serge Lutens Arabie

Serge Lutens Borneo 1834

Serge Lutens Boxeuses

Serge Lutens Chêne

Serge Lutens Chergui

Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles

Serge Lutens Five O’Clock Au Gingembre

Serge Lutens Fumerie Turque

Serge Lutens Miel de Bois

Serge Lutens Muscs Koublai Khan

Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle

Serge Lutens Un Lys

Serge Lutens Vetiver Oriental

Slumberhouse Rume

Smell Bent Florist's Fridge

Snow Days

Sonoma Scent Studio Incense Pure

Sonoma Scent Studio Jour Ensoleille

Sonoma Scent Studio Voile de Violette

Sonoma Scent Studio Winter Woods (brief mention)

SoOud Ouris Parfum Nectar

S-Perfume 100% Love {More}

Stone Harbor, NJ Vacaton pix (non-perfume related)

Strange Invisible Perfumes Lyric Rain

Sweden Is For Lovers

Swiss Arabian Nouf

T is for Taxes

Tauer Perfumes: Incense Extrême, Incense Rosé, Lonestar Memories, & Reverie au Jardin

Tauer Perfumes Vetiver Dance

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay

The Bechdel Test

The Diary of a Nose, Book Review

The Different Company Jasmin de Nuit

The Intimacy of Scent

Thoughts of a Perfume Collector


Tokyo Milk Ex Libris

Unlocking an Unknown: Webber Parfum 6T

Velvet & Sweet Pea's Purrfumery Bed of Roses

Venimus Vidimus Vicimus, or How 3 Perfume Bloggers and a Husband Took Rome

Vero Profumo Kiki, Onda, and Rubj

Vero Profumo Mito

Viktoria Minya Eau de Hongrie

Viktoria Minya Hedonist

Viktor & Rolfe Flowerbomb

What I’m Lovin’ Now

Xerjoff Mamluk

YOSH Perfumes Ginger Ciao

Yves Saint Laurent Nu


Food, Remembrance and Bond No. 9 Little Italy

Earlier this month my husband had a milestone birthday, so I invited my family over for dinner to celebrate and while we were eating my niece said to me, “We finally figured out which movie person you are, Aunt Suzanne. You’re Julie from Julie & Julia. You look like her, you talk like her, you like the same things as her—you even cry over your food the same way as her.”

“I don’t cry over my food,” I protested.

“Almost,” said my other niece. “What about the Christmas ham?”

Oh. The salt-cured, country ham that I paid forty-eight dollars for and chapped my hands over as I spent a week soaking it in numerous changes of cold water. Only to end up with a dried-out hunk of meat covered with a burnt glaze because I thought I could cook it in the time-honored way I always have and thus ignored the instructions that came with it to parboil it. (Who boils a ham? That’s crazy talk!) Judging by the smirks of laughter going around the table, the Christmas ham fiasco was still fresh in everyone’s memory, but since it bought me a comparison to Amy Adams playing Julie Powell, I didn’t care. While I don’t harbor the illusion that I resemble her, finding out that my nieces viewed me as similar felt deeply validating. Other women might wish to be compared to another type of movie character or movie star, but I’ve long known that I will never have a femme fatale’s womanly voice, steely calm, or ability to effect a French pout. I smile too much, my sense of humor is slightly zany, and I occasionally cry over spilt milk. Like Julie, I have a romanticized way of thinking that sometimes veers off into melodrama. But also like her, I tend to think about things intensely and explore them passionately—and I have a perfectionist’s love of anything that is beautifully executed, from writing to music, from perfumes to textiles, from spoken poetry to food.

And I, too, once had a role model who profoundly influenced the way I approached cooking. A woman whom I came to know in the early ’80s, courtesy of her son—my boyfriend all through college—an Irish-Italian boy who loved to play soccer and to bake. He was one of those sweet Catholic boys (you know the type) who adored his mother and was attracted to the kind of girl he could take home to her—and take me home he did. I spent Easter holidays and long weekends and summer vacations at his home in New Jersey, and in my senior year, at the vacation home they built in Cape Cod. He was also the boy who would one day cheat on me with his ex-girlfriend and whom I made the mistake of never fully forgiving—teaching me the hardest lesson I’ve ever come to know: simply, that if you love someone you forgive them everything, even the kind of indiscretions that the rest of the world would have you believe you should never forgive. But that is a story for another day, and this one is about the love I did know when I was with him, which extended to his entire family and particularly, as you'll see expressed here, to his mother.

Petite, wiry, full-blooded Italian, and whip smart—her degree was in biology and she worked at the formidable laboratory of Ciba-Geigy Pharmaceuticals—his mother didn’t teach me how to cook so much as she challenged my notions about what cooking was, both by example and by the enchanting, entertaining way she made it a running dialogue between us, always pulling up a stool for me so that I could watch her prepare supper during my stays at her home. Cultivating a mood of enjoyment was foremost to her process, and it didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether her workday had been harried or not, the first step to every supper she prepared began with a glass of sherry fetched from the basement by one of her three sons or her husband, whoever was close at hand. Dry Sack was her brand, and I often wondered why she didn’t just keep a bottle in the kitchen, but now I believe it was one of the ways in which she also cultivated a distinct air of respect in a house where she was the only woman. “Greg, bring me my sherry, would you?” she would call out, and once the glass was placed into her hands there would be no further calls for it. She only ever drank one glass per evening, sipping it slowly as she prepared the food.

The secret to her cooking did not lie in complicated sauces or complicated anything for that matter: she favored simplicity in the form of the freshest meats, fish and vegetables available, seasoned to perfection and cooked with a very deft wielding of the flame of her grill, broiler or stove. While that might not sound radical now, in the 1980s when most working-class families were making do with casseroles cobbled together with canned mushroom soup, taco dinners from a box, and iceberg-lettuce salads afloat in Ranch dressing, she was turning out elegantly simple gourmet meals that seemed bathed in light and almost laser-like in the way their flavors hit one’s pleasure center—and doing it in no more amount of time than it took to cook a meatloaf. In an hour’s time, she could turn out dinner for six—a favorite being a main dish of filets of sole wrapped around a filling of rice and asparagus spears, baked in a lemony sauce and garnished with a simple chopping of Italian parsley or cilantro. Often she took a substantial but inexpensive cut of meat, usually a flank steak, pounded it with a cleaver and let it marinate overnight in a vinaigrette of garlic, olive oil and lemon, and then the next night simply seared it on her grill; beneath that thin veneer of char on her London Broil, the meat was juicy, red and yielded like butter as she sliced it on the diagonal into thin little strips.

On a week night, the most time-consuming thing she might cook was a ratatouille and the shortest thing were her salads, a simple assemblage of dark leafy greens with no accoutrement other than a chiffon-like dressing of lemon, olive oil, salt and pepper. Unless it was a holiday, she rarely made dessert but took great pleasure in making me Irish Coffee, showing me how to use the back of a spoon to carefully spool a layer of Bailey’s Irish Cream such that it perfectly floated on top. She favored the Italian cooking of her birthright, but bought me my first French cookbook—and when I was living in my first apartment and could not afford a lot of things, she sent me The Elegant, Economical Egg Cookbook, which I still have and still use.

She sent me lots of things, in fact. Knowing I liked cats, she collected various things for me that featured a cat motif. Old-fashioned tins, greeting cards, an elegant pillow that was sewn into the silhouette of a cat. They were never big things and there was never too much or too many of them, but enough that I had a little collection that reminded me of her and affirmed that she knew something about me.

For five years she was in my life, and then my boyfriend and I went our separate ways and I never saw her again. But there are people you can know for most of your life who will never move you, never know you, never influence you to any degree. And there are people you can know for five minutes who change everything. She was one of those people.

Today I’m wearing Bond No. 9 Little Italy and swept up in thoughts of her. It is a lemony scent that to my nose offers up a distinct, accompanying whiff of cilantro in all its soapy herbal goodness. There’s not a lot to tell about it because it’s a fairly linear fragrance: what you smell on initial application is pretty much what you smell the entire time it’s on the skin. Little Italy is as immediately joyful as a child’s drawing of the sun, or of sunlight itself, or of a lemon vinaigrette whipped into light frothiness in a big wooden salad bowl that bears the permanent stain of salad greens. The Bond No. 9 website compares it to gelato and lists its notes as clementine, grapefruit and mandarin, but lemon and coriander is what I get, in a formulation that is not at all sweet or syrupy but zest-like and airy. It’s the kind of fragrance that will not appeal to femme fatales or anyone attempting to raise an eyebrow and effect a French pout. But it’s the perfect thing to wear on a sunny day when your mind is uncluttered and you are contemplating a spring salad and the blue sky calls up faces of those who charted the most direct route to your heart.

Bond No. 9 Little Italy eau de parfum is available from the Bond No. 9 boutiques and website: $160 for 50 ml.
My sample came from a friend not affiliated with the company, who knows I like the fragrance and has sent me a nice little supply of it.

Images: Amy Adams playing Julie Powell in the 2009 film Julie & Julia is from BoxOfficeMojo.com.

Bottle image is from the Bond No. 9 website.

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 3/29/2011.

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