Enveloping, balsamic sweetness that conjures dual memories of childhood scenes and comfort, intimacy and desire.
Contrary to popular belief, vanilla does not originate from Madagascar, but Central America and Mexico. Some of the first people to domesticate vanilla were the Totonac, who cultivated it on farms from around 1185.
Before them, the Olmecs (approx. 1200-400 BCE) also used the wild vanilla growing in the region. In 1427, the Aztecs invaded the Totonac and grew to love and integrate vanilla in their practices and, sometimes, cuisine.
Less than 100 years later, the Spanish conquistadors invaded the Aztecs and took vanilla across the Atlantic, hoping to cultivate it in their homeland.
But Europeans were not yet accustomed to vanilla on its own. Even chocolate was a difficult introduction (apparently, a disgruntled Girolamo Benzoni wrote, in 1575: ”it is more a drink for pigs than a drink for humans”).
Once Europeans grew a taste for chocolate, they flavoured it with vanilla and it became a popular drink. It was not before High Morgan, an apothecary employed by Queen Elizabeth I, created all-vanilla sweets, that the spice took its own path in the Western world.
Now that vanilla was part of the global spice trade, colonisers from across Europe attempted to cultivate vanilla in their own territories, but all failed, because the plant would not produce fruit.
Only when Edmond Albius, an enslaved 12 year old boy from Réunion (author’s note: back then, Réunion was called Bourbon, which led to the naming of “Bourbon vanilla”) discovered that the plant could be pollinated by hand, could vanilla begin its journey across the globe and save the local economy of the island in the process.
In the late 1800s, French and German chemists isolated and began synthesising vanillin from natural materials such as cloves and conifers.
Whether Aztec or European, traditions related to vanilla associate the fragrant orchid with love and pleasure.
We must not ignore the etymologies of both “orchid” (Greek, órkhis, “orchid, testicle”) and vanilla (Latin, vāgīna, “sheath, vagina”), which hold clear sexual meaning.
The main creation myth of vanilla is weaved around Princess Tzacopontziza, the daughter of King Tenitzli.
One day, when the princess was gathering flowers, Prince Zkatan-Oxga found her and they fell in love. They ran away together, but were found and punished by beheading. It was said that where their blood touched the earth, a fragrant orchid bush grew.
The Totonac people would offer the sacred flower to the gods for protection. They would use it in their ritual practices, as perfume and for medicine, but less often as food flavouring.
The Aztec rulers and nobles, on the other hand, would combine it with chocolate and drink it for the cocktail’s stimulant properties, not necessarily for its taste.
Elizabeth I, who popularised the sweet spice in Europe, considered it an aphrodisiac and would ask all her meals and drinks to be seasoned with it.
In Western occult literature, vanilla is often associated with love. In his classification of ingredients, Aleister Crowley, the English occultist, associated vanilla with Venus, pleasure and lust.
With its distinctive sweet, comforting and gourmand facets, vanilla must be one of the most recognizable scent materials in the world. Bourbon vanilla is rich in its sweetness, with balsamic, woody and tobacco nuances.
It is dense and decadent. Mexican vanilla, made from the native Vanilla planifolia, is bold and slightly smoky.
Tahitian vanilla (Vanilla x tahitensis) comes from French Polynesia. It has a lighter aroma with fruity and floral undertones. Interestingly, the seed pod has no fragrance when it is first gathered.
It later develops its odor during the curing process, with the help of sun and air. All the variations in scent profile arise from both the plant’s genetics and the curing processes unique to each region.
Comforting and familiar or sensual and intoxicating? There’s an interesting duality at play when it comes to vanilla.
The familiar sweetness of vanilla brings us back home, to childhood kitchens that smell like freshly baked cookies or warm milk, to holidays and family celebrations.
On the other hand, its balsamic, decadent aspects connecting it to love rituals and the mysterious amber note bring to mind more seductive qualities and associations.
Vanillin has been shown to work in complementary therapies for the treatment of depression and anxiety.
Its bioactive properties go even further, offering neuroprotective, anticarcinogenic, and antioxidant effects.
To benefit from its many qualities, use non-toxic scented candles around the house, use vanillin in a simmer pot with citrus slices and cinnamon or simply wear (and reapply) your favorite vanilla scent.
Some vanilla soliflores we recommend: Tihota by Indult, Spectre by Hexennacht or Wild Veil’s Vanilla Soliflore.
Bergamot, lavender, cardamom, clove bud, fruits, labdanum, tonka bean, rose, jasmin, tuberose, iris, mimosa, musks, leather, beeswax, sandalwood, benzoin, cedarwood, cinnamon, oud, tobacco, vetiver
Vanilla is commonly extracted through maceration, solvent extraction or supercritical fluid extraction with natural carbon dioxide.
Maceration is used to create a tincture, while solvent extraction results in a denser, richer absolute.
Carbon dioxide extraction creates a material the industry calls CO2 extract. Vanilla is classified as a base note, because of its longevity, depth, and ability to anchor a composition.
It has no distinctive top note, meaning it stays true to its profile from beginning to the drydown.
It is also a key component of the amber accord. But what is amber? In Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez’s explanation, it is “a blend of fragrant resins, such as styrax, benzoin, and cistus labdanum, traditional to the Middle East.”
On the other hand, chemist and perfumer Yaroslav Simonov has an entirely different proposition, suggesting that the amber profile “originated from a perfumery base created to popularize synthetic vanillin.”
In any case, vanilla (or vanillin) is quintessentially tied to ambers, which will often contain materials such as benzoin, labdanum, myrrh and musks.
Try Guerlain’s Spiritueuse Double Vanille or Vanagloria by Laboratorio Olfattivo to understand this profile better.
Another scent family that relies heavily on vanilla is the gourmands.
When replicating mouthwatering scents such as ice-cream, cake, croissants or rice puddings, vanilla is often a key ingredient, imparting that signature sweetness and warmth that evokes indulgence.
A Whiff of Waffle Cone by Imaginary Authors is a great example for vanilla-centric gourmands.
Vanilla is also a key component of floral, woody and fruity fragrances, rounding out compositions and enhancing the overall warmth.
It is a true versatile material, which allows it to blend across a wide range of fragrance families, from fresh and clean to deep and smoky.
For more inspiration, explore more atypical vanilla scents, such as Fleurs de Glace by Olympic Orchids or Arsenic by TokyoMilk.
The primary components found in vanilla are vanillin, p-hydroxybenzaldehyde, and 4-ethylguaiacol.
Vanillin is the dominant compound responsible for the sweet, creamy scent that defines vanilla, while p-hydroxybenzaldehyde contributes subtle, balsamic undertones, and 4-ethylguaiacol adds a smoky, spicy nuance.
In nature, vanillin is not restricted to the vanilla orchid, but permeates the entire plant universe, from chicory roots, beets and potatoes, to jasmine, pineapple and honey.
It even occurs in the process of heating, in coffee, maple syrup, and oatmeal, as well as when the lignin in paper oxidises, which makes vanillin an unlikely suspect when recreating the smell of books.
Synthetic ingredients are now widely used when it comes to recreating vanilla notes, because their natural counterparts are extremely expensive.
And while the production methods for vanillin have improved tremendously since the beginning of its extraction in the 19th century, there is something to be said about the “cleanliness” of the material.
In Chandler Burr's The Emperor of Scent (A True Story of Perfume and Obsession), the author writes about Luca Turin, who mentions an anecdotal incident about the famed Shalimar.
Apparently, the first vanillin used in the scent was contaminated with many other materials, such as guaiacol.
When the extraction method was finally improved, and pure vanilla was attainable, Guerlain did not want it. They preferred the “dirty vanillin” because it was more interesting, and continued using it for years to come.