Citrus

Bergamot smells like someone's just peeled a ripe orange in bright morning sunlight—that initial burst of citrus sweetness combined with something distinctly floral and almost tea-like. It's lighter and more delicate than lemon or grapefruit, with a subtle bittersweet edge and a powdery, slightly herbaceous undertone that lingers. Imagine Earl Grey tea without the tannins, mixed with candied orange peel and a whisper of honeyed florals. It's simultaneously fresh and warm, crisp yet creamy.

Citrus

Italian citron smells like the thick-skinned lemon's sophisticated older sibling. Imagine biting into a perfectly ripe Femminello or Sfusato—that initial burst of bright, almost honeyed citrus with a distinctive creamy undertone that's far less acidic than ordinary lemon. There's a waxy, almost perfumed quality reminiscent of the pith and rind, with subtle floral whispers and a faint herbal earthiness. It's citrus that feels luxurious rather than sharp—less "squeezed juice" and more "candied peel steeped in honey."