The Smell of Nostalgia (Now in Candle Form)
From the Fragrance of Saida to the Glow of Your Home: A Journey of Memory, Scent, and Giving Back
OCT 09, 2024
Me, my abaya and my grandmother’s favourite coffee cup
Allow me to start with a heartfelt apology. I know, I know, there’s been an uncharacteristic lull between issues of The Ghannouj Gazette. Frankly, if I had a marketing mentor lurking over my shoulder, they'd likely be wagging a disapproving finger. You see, last Monday—yes, the very day I should have been delivering this to your inboxes—I launched a little side project. Perhaps I shouldn’t call it "little." It’s a brand, actually, and one very close to my heart: Ghannouj the Candles.
What happened? In my grand entrepreneurial zeal, I fell face-first into the labyrinth of admin work. Imagine me, flanked by spreadsheets and emails, my trusty "Publish Issue" button woefully neglected. Marketing faux pas, I know. But before you brandish pitchforks, let me make it up to you with a tale, an olfactory journey, if you will.
So, let’s dive into this week’s subject: candles. Not just any candles. These, my dear reader, are far more than wax and wick. They are tiny, flickering portals to my childhood—a fragrant homage to Saida, my hometown in Lebanon, where every breath of air seems to be perfumed by the ghosts of orange blossoms and jasmine. Let me explain.
In Saida, nestled beyond the ancient stone walls of the old city, lies a neighbourhood called Bistan El Kebir—literally, The Great Orchard. The name is no hyperbole. The place was famous for its citrus orchards, where orange trees held dominion over backyards. It was here, in the heart of this neighbourhood, that my father and grandmother grew up and where, as a child, I’d spend sun-dappled afternoons amid a chorus of birds, fountains, and the unforgettable scent of blooming orange blossoms.
I have a favourite child: Petite Tendresse, the orange blossom-scented candle!
That fragrance, I assure you, wasn’t just a scent—it was a sensation. Spring in Bistan El Kebir wasn’t a season but an explosion of smell. Step outside, and you’d be enveloped by the heady perfume of jasmine, sambac jasmine (which, I’m convinced, could cure any bad mood), gardenia, and the ever-dramatic Damascene rose. That little front yard garden by my relatives’ house, with its modest fountain, became the playground of my cousins and me, where our games were scented by all these flowers.
Inside, the scents continued. As I crossed the threshold, I’d be greeted by the sweetly smoky aroma of oud and amber, burning away in their little vessels, both mystic and comforting. These weren’t just fragrances—they were fortifications against the proverbial evil eye, although, if you’re more modern in your outlook, we can rebrand them as defenders against “negative vibes.” Either way, they were part of the ritual of home. And though my grandparents are no longer with us, those scents remain as vivid in my mind as ever, like invisible threads pulling me back to a place where life was simple and unhurried.
You might ask why I’m getting so nostalgic about all this. The truth is, I’ve spent years moving across continents, only to find myself constantly chasing those smells, trying to recapture the warmth of those memories in every candle I encountered. Some candles came close, but none quite hit the mark. So, in a typically stubborn fit of self-determination, I decided to do what anyone with a lingering bout of homesickness and entrepreneurial spirit might do: create my own.
And that’s how Ghannouj the Candles came into existence. Each candle in the collection is a bottled memory. With every light of the wick, you’re not just burning a candle; you’re unlocking a moment, a slice of my past, of Saida, of those tranquil afternoons in the Great Orchard. I named the collection after my childhood nickname, Ghannouj, which, in Arabic, translates to “pampered.” I hope to share some of that comfort with you, to let you be pampered in your own space.
But this venture isn’t just a love letter to my past. It’s also an effort to give back. A portion of every candle sold will be donated to Give a Child a Brighter Future, a UK-based charity that has long been close to my heart. This organisation began during Lebanon’s civil war, with women rallying to provide toys and school supplies for children in dire need. Over the years, it has blossomed into a remarkable force for good, funding hospitals and medical centres and providing crucial pediatric care. Today, the charity has raised over £6,000,000, furnishing hospitals with life-saving equipment like baby incubators and children’s dialysis machines.
It’s an honour to contribute to their work and an honour to share this journey with you. Every candle you buy isn’t just a connection to the scents of my childhood—it’s a contribution to the future of children who desperately need it.
So, dear reader, as I invite you to explore the collection, to light a candle and fill your home with the scent of jasmine or amber, know that with each flicker, you’re not only indulging in a bit of pampering but also bringing light to others who need it most.
Here’s hoping that the scents of home, wherever you may be, bring you comfort, warmth, and a little slice of peace.