The Wolf Has a Sweet Tooth

Mechant Loup is inspired by the Big Bad Wolf of children's fairytales, but here, the wolf is not just an animalic villain, but a complex, brooding character.

Right away, I get a honeyed liqourice - both medicinal and herbal, yet warm and inviting - cozy to some, off-putting to others. To me, this reflects the duality of the wolf: charming on the outside, yet with something unsavoury beneath.

As it dries down, the woods and resins emerge - dark, nutty, and forest-like, with a subtle hint of saliva-soaked jowls. It's as if a wolf hides in the woods, cloaked in leaves and hazelnut shells, whispering sweetness, but unsure whether or not he's hungry. Instead of leaping out with teeth bared, he draws you in with a warm, almost edible allure.

This wolf is not a loud predator, but an elusive figure who lingers in the background, questioning whether his feral days are over. It's surprisingly light, airy and inviting, an interesting juxtaposition between innocence and threat, but much more of the former.

I’m not a fan of liqourice, so Mechant Loup is a no-go for me - but that’s personal. If you enjoy the scent of anise or medicinal herbs but prefer something that’s not too potent, this could be one to try.