Chocolate

  • Countess Willie

    Sophisticated, dramatic, well-traveled, glamorous, and worldly, Countess Willie V. Piazza, owner of the French Studio, was a trendsetter in style and fashion. Countess Willie was an educated woman, a patron of the arts, and possessed an impressive library of rare volumes. She featured many historic jazz musicians in her House, including Tony Jackson and Jelly Roll Morton. Unlike many of her counterparts, she was known for having a kind heart and a generous, loving nature. She was fiercely protective: when a patron of her establishment, the nephew of a prominent New Orleans cleric, committed a heinous act of sadism against one of her ladies, Countess Willie shot him dead.

    Chocolate plum musk, red musk, amaretto, candied fruits, and red ginger.

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  • Dia De Los Muertos

    A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte… Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant “…chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love.” This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.

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  • How Doth the Little Crocodile

    How doth the little crocodile
    Improve his shining tail,
    And pour the waters of the Nile
    On every golden scale!

    How cheerfully he seems to grin,
    How neatly spreads his claws,
    And welcomes little fishes in
    With gently smiling jaws!

    Chocolate peppermint, mint-soaked vanilla, pistachio, oakmoss, and green cedar.

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  • Nibble Nibble Gnaw

    Looking down, you see a scattering of breadcrumbs strewn on the packed soil and straw at your feet. A waft of candied apple and pancakes embraces you, as you follow the crumbs on the path. The scent intensifies: sugared nuts, crushed candies, hot gusts of chocolate, and you find yourself standing before a small booth constructed of cakes, pastries, sweet breads, and a cascade of candy tiles. Shards of clear sugar glint in the ambient firelight of the Midway, and an old woman emerges from the shadows within. She extends a gnarled hand to you and rasps, “Oh, you dear, what has brought you here? You look like skin and bones; a strong gust of wind would spirit you into the air. Do come in, and visit with me. No harm shall happen to you.”

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  • Scorched Marshmallows

    Lilith loves to camp, but she’s not a huge fan of roughing it. This year, we opted for some cabin glamping with some of Lilith’s best friends.

    This is the scent of Kyle and Lilith deliberately setting marshmallows on fire, with chocolate and graham crackers as an afterthought.

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  • Sixth Lash

    Red leather, chocolate, and black pepper.

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  • The Other Hot Chocolate

    The other mother took the bacon from under the grill and put it on a plate. Then she slipped the cheese omelette from the pan onto the plate, flipping it as she did so, letting it fold itself into a perfect omelette shape.

    She placed the breakfast plate in front of Coraline, along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a mug of frothy hot chocolate.

    “Yes,” she said. “I think I like this game. But what kind of game shall it be? A riddle game? A test of knowledge or of skill?

    “An exploring game,” suggested Coraline. “A finding-things game.”

    “And what is it you think you should be finding in this hide-and-go-seek game, Coraline Jones?”

    Coraline hesitated. Then, “My parents,” said Coraline. “And the souls of the children behind the mirror.”

    The other mother smiled at this, triumphantly, and Coraline wondered if she had made the right choice. Still, it was too late to change her mind now.

    “A deal,” said the other mother. “Now eat up your breakfast, my sweet. Don’t worry-it won’t hurt you.”

    Coraline stared at the breakfast, hating herself for giving in so easily, but she was starving.

    “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” asked Coraline.

    “I swear it,” said the other mother. “I swear it on my own mother’s grave.”

    “Does she have a grave?” asked Coraline.

    “Oh yes,” said the other mother. “I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back.”

    “Swear on something else. So I can trust you to keep your word.”

    “My right hand,” said the other mother, holding it up. She waggled the long fingers slowly, displaying the clawlike nails. “I swear on that.”

    Coraline shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “It’s a deal.” She ate the breakfast, trying not to wolf it down. She was hungrier than she had thought.

    As she ate, her other mother stared at her. It was hard to read expressions into those black button eyes, but Coraline thought that her other mother looked hungry, too.

    She drank the orange juice, but even though she knew she would like it she could not bring herself to taste the hot chocolate.

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  • Vice

    Voluptuous and indulgent! A deep chocolate scent, with black cherry and orange blossom.

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