I started my new job today. And the hectic craziness that is going to be my life until at least May. And if I have it my way, the rest of my non-retired life will be fairly similar.
Sleepy train station picture! One transfer, about an hour (more like 40 minutes), all-in-all a decent commute. I don’t start too early, so there isn’t that much of a fight for sitting room which is nice.
These are some of the Jo Malone reviews I promised in my perfume adventures post! Jo Malone was a brand founded by a woman named Jo Malone in 1994 who sold it to Estee Lauder back in 1999, and stayed chair and creative director until 2006. She has her own fragrance company that started in 2011 named Jo Loves and as far as I can tell as maintained the simplicity of the fragrances of her first brand, as the website graphics are very similar, as are the fonts used online and on the physical packaging.
Wild Fig & Cassis
Wet: almond, fig, coconut, some wood like a combination of pine and mahogany, cherry
Dry: that wood combination, fig, leaves, amber
I usually get a lot of “coconut!” exclamations when I spray this one for other people, which is always confusing to me because I smell more almond and fig than that round, fatty scent of coconut. I can see it sometimes, when I’m not smelling too hard, but it’s an astringent coconut, obviously cut with something; perhaps the cherry Fragrantica mentions? It might not be coconut to me, and I don’t know what cassis is supposed to smell like, it’s a very creamy and woody scent, quite warm and comforting. For the most part, I smell the components of a tart I like; fig on a combination of cheese leftover from yesterday’s fondue, with a little clover honey. And that fades off after a while, and I’m suddenly in the woods just thinking about food.
Earl Grey & Cucumber
Wet: bergamot, myrtle, tea, clotted cream
Dry: bergamot, floral, tea, cedar, vanilla, clotted cream, cucumber insides
Maybe it’s cheating if I already knew earl grey is made with bergamot, but that first breath was all juicy, spicy acidity tempered with sweetness, though the cream was present and promising. On the dry down, it’s still effervescently floral and bright, but the beeswax, vanilla and musk have made an appearance as a few tablespoons of cream. I’ve sprayed this for others and everyone so far has correctly guessed “earl grey” and no one at all has guessed “cucumber” and I felt like I was missing it as well for a while until I realized that I was looking for the stiff, outer skin of English cucumbers, when I should perhaps be looking for the watery innards. So I looked for it. I can’t say I definitely, absolutely figured it out, but I believe it’s there, masquerading as tea water. Which is weird now that I’ve found it, but it explains why I think this scent’s colder than Wild Fig & Cassis.
Now I know Jo Malone is known for the emphasis on layering and creating your own signature scents, which is partly why I gravitated towards these two for the first review. Wild Fig & Cassis warms up the Earl Grey & Cucumber when I put them together on my skin, while the acidic, floral, and aquatic notes cut through all the creaminess. It makes the earl grey seem a little more authentic, since the fig supports peppery notes that a tea drinker smells when they put their head in a jar of earl grey. The downside is that it is almost too sweet, and I lose the figs and the almonds to the assertive earl grey, and they stay in the background. As it dries, the woody cassis and the cedar notes start to turn to powder, which may be totally fine with some people, but I’m not a fan of powdery scents. Still, the scent is still juicy by the 3rd or 4th hour despite the wood making it a little dusty.
This is painted on the left wall.
I took a tour of the Mast Brothers’ factory on Friday. It was brilliant. I’ve taken “chocolate themed” tours before, and visited the Ghiradelli Square in San Francisco when I was a teenager, and neither of those visits made me feel as excited about chocolate as the ~45 minute walk around the factory watching things being made did. I feel more educated now, and not in the way Starbucks or Teavana wanted its employees to feel and to make the customers feel when I worked for them (apologies to the, honestly, really great people who complimented me on how genuine I was), but more like when we visited the Kitchen at Grove Station and talked to the guy serving Modcup coffee near the door about how cold it was to be right next to the door during a late autumn grand opening. I still need to try honey processed coffee.
Sorry for the potato.
I tried to take some pictures, but my new phone’s camera is kind of a potato (thought apparently an improvement on the old camera), and my hands are not the most stable. I should ask for a new camera for Christmas.
I like the wooden flag. The bags with the color on them are sugar and the bags with no visible markings are cocoa beans. I convinced my boyfriend not to go lay in them, somehow.
We weren’t allowed to take pictures after passing the counter, which is understandable, as the ideas behind any number of their machines is fairly simple and easy to steal with a few good pictures, and they have a policy of a human touch being most important, which means many of their machines aren’t perfect automatons. If they did, I’m sure someone with fantastic business sense and fewer ethics could probably drive them out with a few tweaks to make the machines perfect. Although the idea of keeping the machines imperfect and stressing out the employees is a little odd, they did make a comment about how the latest they’ve worked until was maybe midnight, made it sound outrageous, and confirmed that their job was way, way better than retail in that regard at least. Anyway, the machines obviously don’t hold them back. Read More
No. Seriously.
Damian Allsop’s Water Chocolates
Having used and shaped chocolate in the past, this is intriguing to me because water was usually the bane of my existence. I can’t even imagine what the process would be to keep the chocolate from separating into an unappetizing grainy mess. It’s apparently about 10% less fat than regular chocolate, and I believe the chocolatiers when they say the process makes eating the chocolate a lot more of a pure chocolate taste experience. I wonder if it’s genuinely creamy, or if it’s more of a hard candy texture. Obviously, I really, really want to try it ;D
I was also looking into some Latino literature and was thinking I would start reading Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. Defying preset roles and destinies, growing the nerve to stand up to crazy people, and expressing oneself through food, complete with recipes? Sounds fantastic. In fact, a lot of Latino literature seems to include something food-related, generally as a mood indicator. I think that this common device, which, don’t get me wrong, is used in a lot of literature in a lot of cultures, is interestingly blatant. It’s very clear what Rebecca’s lime-eating tic in One Hundred Years of Solitude is supposed to indicate (though I’m sure there’s subtext in there that I haven’t yet examined), and Like Water for Chocolate creates a story where for a while, the biggest indicator of Tita’s emotions are her cooking (according to Goodreads, haha.) Antonio in Bless Me, Ultima is picked on for eating traditional Mexican food at school, an obvious indication of the difficulties of trying to stay true to both your roots and your leaves. It’s so clearly intertwined with descriptions of culture, it’s fascinating.
And of course, we return to modernity: chocolate chicken.
Unfortunately, it’s on the other side of the country, so I guess I’ll build up my Type 2 Diabetes some other way. Sigh.
Pomelo girl thoughts 