A kitchen in use, not on display. Ginger root and rosemary — bright, slightly sharp, the smell of something being broken down and made into something else. Black pepper underneath, dry and patient. These are three ingredients that have always shared a counter. Here, they share nothing else. The fragrance doesn't sweeten as it develops. It stays close to its source: herbal, faintly resinous, with just enough heat to keep it from reading as purely green. Present but not boisterous, it announces the room rather than itself.
