Vanilla is a scent that, especially in December, doesn't just smell sweet, but triggers a whole range of longings in me: warmth, closeness, cosiness, festivity and childhood rituals. For me, vanilla is basically the aromatic equivalent of fairy lights – preferably the small ones that you leave on all day when it's cold and grey outside. In fact, it's hard to escape vanilla before Christmas: in scented candles, in baked goods and, of course, especially in perfumes. And even if you exclude Christmas baking, vanilla is so present that it's as if December itself smells of it. I have internalised this analogy so much that I look forward to my Tihota months in advance. Somehow silly, because firstly, at least in northern Germany, it is often colder in June than on Christmas Eve, and secondly, even a vanilla heavyweight like Tihota by Indult has nothing to do with Christmas or winter, but simply with individual taste and personal preference.
However, the connection between vanilla and Christmas is anything but self-evident from a cultural and historical perspective. Vanilla is a plant that thrives in humid tropical heat – a far cry from European winters. It was not until the 16th century that it reached Europe via colonial trade routes, where it was initially valued as a precious luxury item, especially in court kitchens and in combination with cocoa. Anyone who has ever bought a real vanilla pod knows that little has changed in this respect to this day. Vanilla only became widely available – and thus democratised, so to speak – in the 19th century with the development of synthetic vanillin. Its industrial production was achieved in 1874 by chemists Wilhelm Haarmann and Ferdinand Tiemann in Holzminden, marking a turning point: for the first time, scent and flavour could be reproduced independently of nature. The resulting company, Haarmann & Reimer (now Symrise), soon rose to become one of the world's leading producers of fragrances and flavourings, making the luxurious scent and taste of vanilla accessible to many for the first time. Vanilla thus became synonymous with childhood, holidays and baked goods, but also with abundance and warmth in a season that is actually characterised by barrenness and reduction. An exotic plant thus became an emotional code for a seasonal feeling of well-being.
The fact that vanilla is often taken for granted does not make it any less powerful – on the contrary. Its effect unfolds precisely because of its unobtrusiveness. From a psychological point of view, vanilla affects our emotional centre like hardly any other fragrance. Studies show that vanilla accords can reduce stress and create a feeling of security. In winter, when there is a lack of light, our movement is restricted and social contact is often reduced, our nervous system seeks balance. Vanilla provides it – quietly, softly, unobtrusively. It promises closeness without demanding it, and comfort without becoming sentimental. Vanilla is not a fragrance of excitement or sensation, but of regulation. It smooths out rough edges, has a calming effect and feels close to the body. Vanilla envelops rather than dominates. It is not loud, but it is present. And perhaps that is precisely why it works so reliably in winter: it does not seek to prove anything and, in a season that often demands more of us than we care to admit, it acts as an olfactory gesture of care. For an ‘it's good the way it is’ – and for warmth at a time when we are particularly emotionally needy.
The fact that cinnamon stars and vanilla crescents are part of the Christmas season has been part of our cultural heritage for generations. Contrary to what many people think, however, this is not a given, but something we have learned – just like the fact that vanilla pudding, strangely enough, works all year round. So why wait until it gets cold to enjoy Tihota & Co.? Warmth, comfort and closeness are always welcome – just like vanilla pudding or the scent of vanilla.
With this in mind, I wish you a peaceful, warm and cosy festive season – filled with light, love and perhaps a hint of vanilla on your skin.
