Oriental

Benzoin smells like sweetened vanilla cream kissed with caramel and a whisper of incense smoke. Imagine walking into a bakery where warm pastries have just emerged from the oven, then stepping into a Buddhist temple where resin smoulders on hot coals. It's honeyed and slightly powdery, with an almost medicinal undertone—like comforting cough sweets wrapped in silk. There's a subtle almond note too, creamy rather than sharp. It's deeply gourmand yet spiritual, simultaneously cosy and exotic.

Spicy

Fenugreek smells like warm maple syrup mixed with fresh hay and a whisper of burnt sugar—imagine walking past a bakery on a cool morning where someone's just caramelised something sweet. There's an earthy, almost celery-like greenness underneath, but it's wrapped in spicy warmth that feels slightly gourmand and comforting. It's less aggressive than other spices; instead, it's honeyed and slightly nutty, like toasted cumin has been mellowed with cream. If nutmeg had a softer cousin, fenugreek would be it.