Milano Caffè
AbdesSalaam Attar Profumo (2013)

A luscious, opulent fragrance with a beautiful sombre edge. It does everything one expects from it based on its name and description, but also much, much more. Not only does it fulfil the wish of someone buying a coffee fragrance, it also fulfils what is implied by this wish, be the wearer aware of it or not. This is perhaps why I needed so much time to appreciate it, as I was so caught up in what I was expecting it to be I missed all the other parts. Make no mistake, this could easily be fitted in the “gourmand” category, were one inclined to simplification, but Milano Café really goes to show it is indeed a vast oversimplification, which serves no purpose beyond its simplest function of categorization.

On to the smell – this is not just a cup of coffee, it is a coffee spa, a coffee forest and a coffee cake, all at once. Upon application you are hit with this beautiful earthy coffee smell and initially it is not very sweet at all. It has an energizing yet enormously calming effect, similar to the “drop in the ocean” meditative experience, except that in this case, it’s a drop in a pool of coffee. Only later do you realize it was actually a drop of milky vanilla. Indeed, the beauty of this fragrance is the gradual emergence of a fine, milky, frothy sweetness that becomes more and more apparent as time passes by. It starts out as the raw beans themselves, expanded by the beautiful bitterness of cocoa beans, which then becomes a cup of strong black coffee with a hint of sugar. After that it starts transforming into a cappuccino and later occasionally also into a café au lait. On my skin, it jumps back and forth between this sweet, milky and creamy froth accord, and the darker, bitter aspects of coffee and cocoa until the dry down.

Once the perfume has really dried down, the above-described aspects integrate into one truly delicious whole that is virtually impossible to describe in simple terms. It smells like Pocket Coffee, that wonderful memory from childhood when you weren’t allowed coffee except for this occasional confectionary transgression. It smells like a scrumptious piece of cake where the coffee enhances notes of chocolate, except that in this case there is also a hazelnut accord invoking nougat, probably from the tonka bean, as well as a fruit-jam accord, presumably produced by the citric notes of vetiver, which beautifully clash with the harsh bitter chocolate notes to procure that unbeatable effect of a true Sacher torte. The vanillic and fruity/spicy accords in the late dry down even remind me of tiramisu, which is made with a touch of rum in my country (more like a tiramigiu), in a little sweeter format than the traditional Italian version.

Because of the clever use of ingredients, this perfume is always in the balance and never too sweet, and just when you think you might be smelling like something to be put on a plate, one of the notes pulls you in another direction, giving the association of a forest, the earth or old wooden furniture. It is neither for those who want nothing but sugar, nor is it for those who cannot handle some opulent delight. In other words, it’s just about right, hanging in balance like a circus artist whom everyone observes with disbelief, yet also utter delight. Besides the coffee and gourmand aspects, Milano Café is also a beautiful, almost archaic old-world smell, invoking memories of a world where marble chess sets were displayed on ornate old cabinets and chiming mantle clocks were not an antique rarity but a part of everyday life. (Not so) incidentally, a world where desert was a magical experience to be savoured bite by bite… But I digress. I warmly recommend this perfume to those who appreciate the unrepeatable nuances of those special moments and experiences that make our life more beautiful.

I once lived half an hour outside Milan and spent many a happy afternoon wiling away the time in a café with a doppio or five. What nobody tells you about espresso is that there comes a point at which it acts upon your organism like a drug, speeding up your heart rate, and giving you an intense ‘high’ that feels like the peak of euphoria. Nowadays, I work my way up to that point through the pathetic wateriness of cafetière coffee (because I’m not getting any younger). But I’ll be darned if Milano Caffè doesn’t whip me right back to the intoxicating smell of the Milan coffee shop.

Forget the rosy-cream-amber version of coffee presented in Café Rose (Tom Ford) or Intense Café (Montale). Milano Caffè is all about the dark, dusty bitterness of coffee beans, with the ferrous, animalic twang common to both coffee and chocolate. The smell is woody and dry rather than creamy, and overall, rather austere.

In keeping with the authenticity of its coffee accord, Milano Caffè attar is streamlined and shorn of extraneous detail. Those raised on the generosity of mugs of coffee, huge and steaming, might be a little dismayed at Milano Caffè’s lack of lushness or its refusal to tilt towards even a drop of cream or sugar. Instead, Milano Caffè packs an ocean of flavor into a tea-spoonful of liquid, like a real Milanese espresso.

The espresso expression itself is quite brief, but the mirage of coffee-ness is carried over and extended through the scent by linking the woodiness of espresso to the woodiness of the dusty iris and cedar basenotes. Milano Caffè is an interesting scent, and not nearly as gourmand as it sounds. I find it elegant, dark, and a tiny bit fierce.

Others have reviewed it in great detail so my addition will be relatively simple.

The first impression is that of tiramisu or some other complex chocolate-coffee concoction (I'm guessing the ethanol holding the thing together probably adds to the tiramisu impression). However, it avoids being sweet and that is the genius - it is only the aromatic side of the cake and not the overwhelming, cloying, slightly sickening feel of ethyl vanillin that is usually liberally added to that kind of profile. Think cocoa powder rather than chocolate bar.

As time passes, the scent migrates to woodier, spicier territories, warm winter food spices. Of those, clove particularly stands out. Again, perfect balance, and good projection - very impressive considering the all-natural ingredients.

I think this is a great fragrance, I reach for it all the time for both casual and professional occasions, and it is the sample that got me to contact Mr. Dubrana to order a set of his other stuff.

A delicious coffee and cocoa scent with a bit of spice, not really sweet but appetising. I love to wear it in the evening and find the opening rush quite addictive.

There's a little too much soil in the topnotes for me to fully appreciate this fragrance. It's fantastic in Hindu Kush; not so much when I'm thinking about having a cup of coffee. When those blow off, the fragrance is a good coffee one with pastry notes. It skewed masculine on me.

Milano Caffè opens with an almost gourmand accord of cocoa beans, coffee (real, bitter, earthy and round coffee smell – forget the Nespresso absolute several so-called "coffee" scents deliver), with also woody-earthy notes of patchouli, vetiver, oak moss, dry resins, spices which initially are quite light, hiding behind the "gourmand" initial feel. Overall is a really peculiar, edible blend with a leather accent, really soft, cozy, aromatic, dark and dry but also sweet and rich, which effectively reflects its name – a sort of exotic, but also "civilized" austerity and refinement, with a mysterious and tasty elegant smell of coffee – an ingredient which I love (mostly because I love coffee), but it is really rarely used properly in perfumery. After a while the spices emerge more clearly, notably cloves, which for a while bring Milano Caffè closer to some "No. 88" scents. Also the dusty, dry but soft and warm vetiver note is now more detectable. Basically, in broad terms, it is a dark, spicy, woody and warm scent, really masculine and classy, with a warm heart of sweeter notes – a light, elegant sweetness, also quite earthy and organic since it's given by cocoa and coffee. Top notch style and quality as we can expect from Dubrana's standards. Surprisingly, Milano Caffè has also a bolder projection and a longer persistence if compared to others of this line. Mystical and sophisticated, refined and cozy, a nostalgic reference to an "old Milan" which sadly (speaking as Milanese...) is not there anymore.

8,5/10