Tobacco

By the editors · 2 min readCinnamon crackles first, a dry bark heat that lifts the saffron’s leathery iodine edge and lets nutmeg dust the opening with faint peppery sweetness. Jasmine arrives as a muted, waxy bloom, its indoles blunted by patchouli’s cool, loamy camphor; together they fold the spices into a muted floral earth that smells like dried potpourri on suede. Over the first hour the tobacco leaf emerges slowly—hay-like, slightly honeyed—absorbing the remaining cinnamon fire so the heart smells of cured blond leaves stacked in a cedar shed. White musk and sandalwood merge into a clean, skin-close musk-wood that keeps the amber from turning too resinous, leaving a soft, brown-paper whisper with a faint trace of sweet spice that lingers four centimeters beyond the wrist. Quiet projection and restrained sweetness make it office-safe yet comfortably warm when the thermometer drops below 15 °C.