Eat

Eat opens with bright Amalfi lemon and peppery basil—a kitchen-garden snap that feels almost edible. As it settles, plum and rose arrive with a tart red-currant brightness, keeping things fresh rather than floral. The dry-down unfolds into something warmer: caramel and custard meld into a soft vanilla sweetness, creamy and comforting without ever tipping into dessert cliché. There's a peculiar balance here—herbaceous and juicy up front, gently gourmand beneath—that feels less like a fragrance and more like the warmth of a meal shared.