Malik al Taif
Areej le Doré (2018)

To understand Malif al Taif, you need to understand what Taif rose oil is, how it’s produced, and what it smells like (in the raw). Taif rose oil is the marmite of the rose world; you’ll either love it or hate it. Its aroma is to Turkish or Bulgarian rose oils as apples are to oranges. It’s important to note that Taif roses are not a separate species of rose but just rosa damascena, the same kind of rose grown in Turkey, Syria, and Bulgaria. The difference is that Taif roses are grown in a highly specific terroir that forces their resulting scent into an altogether different shape. Taif roses are grown in Ta’if in Saudi Arabia, a region that lies 2,000 meters above sea level. Its cooler climate, coupled with excellent irrigation schemes, produces rose oil that smells green, tart, lemony, meaty, peppery, metallic, and citronella-like all at once. Taif roses are gathered at first morning light, before the sun causes the flowers to open fully, thus preserving their immensely spicy green scent. Harvesting is an enormously labor-intensive process, requiring rose petals from 30-50 roses to produce just one drop of pure Taif rose otto, and up to 40,000 roses to make one single tola.

Smelled up close, the oil smells surprisingly nothing like what you expect a rose to smell like, which makes sense given that a rose is made up of over 500 different aroma compounds. Two big ‘flavor’ constituents of rose are geraniol and citronellal – these smell sharply ‘green’ and sharply ‘citric’ respectively – and Taif rose oil happens to contain a lot of them. And because Taif rose oil is so rich in these citronellols and geraniols, it can come across as harsh in its top notes until the aroma settles.

I’ve smelled many Taif rose oils and blends, but all of them share that essential Taifi character of green, peppery, and lemony-sour. They are not, in my experience, lush, sweet, or particularly velvety. Consider them to be the Hindi ouds of the rose world – raw, strident, austere, but with a spiritually elevating facet that marks them out as nobler than the friendlier, sweeter Cambodis (or Turkish rose, in this case). These unique properties make the Taif rose a perfect counterpart to the smoky, fermented woodiness of pure oud oil. Thus this pairing occupies an honored place in Middle-Eastern perfumery.

Malik al Taif is very, very Taif. The polar opposite of rose jam, its rose is a steak of raw beef coated thickly with lemon zest and crushed back pepper, so fiercely aromatic it will draw saliva to your mouth (I find Taifi rose oils to be quite unami). Picture the sweet Turkish rose of something like Rose Flash by Tauer Perfumes as a voluptuous, naked woman reclining on a bed of red velvet, being fed sweetmeats by a eunuch; the tough Taif rose in Malik al Taif, on the other hand, is Laurence of Arabia emerging gaunt, hard, and starey-eyed from a long stint in the desert. A leathery, iodine-like saffron hones this impression to a fine point. If you’re not familiar with the specific characteristics of Taif rose oil, this presentation of rose might come as a bit of a shock; lovers of Amouage’s Homage, however, will adore the similarly silvery-green brightness of the Taif rose note here.

Personally, I find Taif rose to be hard going, its harsh brightness as unrelenting as the strobing glare of sunlight during a migraine. The tannic sourness of the oil, almost always emphasized with saffron, as here, leaves me with the aftertaste of over-brewed tea. But while I don’t particularly enjoy Taif roses, I can surely admire them as the bluestocking of the rose world. The note is rendered beautifully in Malik al Taif. A hint (just a hint) of the leathery bleu cheese of Hindi oud sits right underneath it, proving as always the perfect partner to the austere angularity of the Taif rose. This combination (Taif rose, saffron, Hindi oud) is classic for a reason: it just works.

The first hour of Malik al Taif, therefore, runs a very traditional gauntlet, along the well-travelled road of Hindi oud, saffron, and Taif rose – the original blueprint for the rose-oud pairing. Here, quality and provenance mean everything. The opening reminds me very much of some rose-oud blends by Rising Phoenix Perfumery and Al Shareef Oudh, two oil-based houses that specialize in the recreation of traditional attar and mukhallat blends (Al Ghaliyah and anything Al Ka’aba) using only the highest quality, most expensive naturals available. In other words, the authenticity of the rose-oud accord in Malik al Taif is top notch, and occupies the same hallowed rank as perfumes such as Homage. Later on, a powdery amber-incense accord moves in, as well as the lusher, sweeter Indian rose notes, helping to soften the hard angles on that Taif-saffron-and-Hindi-oud opening. The rose begins to take on the vanillic, soda-cream softness of oils such as Rose TRO (Turkish Rose Otto) by Amouage, which is by far my favorite Amouage rose soliflore. The basmati-rice toastiness of the saffron comes out more strongly than before, nudging aside its inky iodine leather topnotes for an almost creamy, custardy facet. The creamy benzoin and sandalwood drydown smells like creamed temple incense, born aloft by the same sort of sugared, orange-blossom-inflected deer musk as last experienced in Siberian Musk. For Taif rose enthusiasts (and those who love Homage), Malik al Taif should not be missed. And if you loved the candied, powdered clean-funky natural musks in Siberian Musk, then even better. It’s a real two-for-one.

What an interesting rose note this is. It smells exactly like rose mixed with green olives to my nose. Odd! But...I kind of like it! The opening brings a little more rose for the first few minutes but then the green olive marinated smell gets stronger. The dry down softens the green olive smell up as the mysore sandalwood and amber bring a smooth ending which is my favorite part. Not sure if I'd invest in a bottle but a decant might be worth the investment.

The Rose opening is beautiful. A Damascene Taif Rose starts it off, staring with an intense rose note, with a bit later brings out the rose leaves and stems more, resulting in a more vegetal character. The Indian rose remains in more in the background.

Soon the vegetal rose is modulated by an oud that is merging with the rose pleasantly. This oud is less loud and shrill and many modern ouds are and fit is well with the rest. A lovely dark musk is added soon, adding a faecaloid element that works well with the oud. A saffron undertone adds further depth.

The base sees the rose rescind a bit, and a resinous benzoin note moving into the foreground. Is has an ambery touch to it, and develops a night balsamic side on me. A sandalwood softens the benzoin towards the end. Finally, the sandal and the resinous notes merge to a refined finale.

I get moderate sillage, excellent projection and a superb thirteen hours of longevity on my skin.

This is a delicious rose composition for cool spring evenings; rich, intense but refined and with good texture. 3.75/5

Taif rose is one of my least favorite rose essential oils. It's a damascena rose grown in a specific area of the world and in a specific environment that brings out the green aspect of rose, along with a kind of tart or lemony note, a sort of geranium character. It's kind of angular, which I don't mind at all, but it has a built-in bugaboo I've always had with the damascena rose, especially the distilled oil. It often has, to my nose, a sort of vegetal note, an old dying rose water in a vase swampy note. It effectively ruins an essential oil for me when that's present. Taif rose can highlight that note because of its character and bring a sort of metallic edge in also. Many don't have this swamp note problem. It's specific to the person. But it makes taif rose a bit of a landmine for me.

Malik al Taif has this presence and note. I struggled to smell the rest of the fragrance while this was going on, but had difficulty. I applied it to a card which made it a little better, but only a little, so I could try and discover this fragrance more. It has a classic combo of taif rose, saffron and oud I would have liked to explore; and see where the rounder, softer note of the Indian rose fit in, along with the musk. On the card, the rose did soften in the drydown, become less sharp, and make a marriage with the musk in a long-lasting drydown, so on some this may be beautiful. But I smelled the dying rose note until the end. If you're one who has difficulty with natural taif rose, this fragrance may be, like for me, ultimately unwearable.

Buying a sample of a taif rose fragrance was a risk, but it was still worth it. Though it's thumbs-down for me, I'm giving it a neutral for the pleasure of the ride through the landscape of an old-style, non-French fragrance.