Reggie Recommends, Again: Agraria's Bitter Orange Potpourri

I received a package the other day, Dear Reader, containing an unexpected and thoughtful gift from the owners of Agraria, a home fragrance company based in San Francisco.   It was a box of their Bitter Orange potpourri, which I have been a devotee of for thirty years.  I first wrote about my love affair with Bitter Orange potpourri two years ago, which is how I came to the attention of the folks at Agraria.  They have been kind to send me a present of a box of their Bitter Orange potpourri each Christmas since then, much to my surprised pleasure.

Agraria's Bitter Orange potpourri benefits from
being decanted into a large bowl, so its
heavenly scent can waft through one's rooms

I have never done a paid endorsement of a product here on Reggie, Dear Reader, and I don't expect to start doing ones any time soon, either.  In this case, because the gift from Agraria was sent to me as a "thank you" for an unsolicited review and not in exchange for it, I am happy to recommend Agraria's Bitter Orange potpourri to you.  If you are anything like Reggie is, he is confident that you will also fall in love with Bitter Orange's marvelous, can't-live-without, heady scent.  That is, if you haven't already. . .

Here's a repeat of the post that I published in December 2011, in which I shared how I first learned of Bitter Orange and why I have loved it ever since:

I'm not, in general, a fan of potpourri.  Most of what is available today is vile, made of things like artificial peach scented cedar shavings.  No wonder it has such a bad reputation.

One of our Chinese export punch bowls, ca. 1800,

filled with Bitter Orange potpourri

However, there is one potpourri out there that I love, and which I make a point of buying every year when the weather turns cold and the heating season begins.  It is called Bitter Orange, and it is made by a company called Agraria.  I recommend it to you, Dear Reader.

It is the most marvelous potpourri there is.

Agraria makes its Bitter Orange potpourri in small batches of fragrant dried flowers and orange slices, cinnamon sticks, cloves, lavender, natural oils, and other exotic organic ingredients.  Bitter Orange is lovely—citrusy, floral, spicy, and woodsy.  I fill an antique Chinese export bowl with it every year at this time and place it in our drawing room at Darlington House, where its scent deliciously pervades the room.

I first learned of Bitter Orange back in the early 1980s, shortly after it became available in New York.  I vividly recall my introduction to it, in the living room of a large apartment on the Upper East Side that belonged to the parents of a classmate of mine from Yale.  I remember sitting in a chair in the room and wondering "What is that marvelous scent, and where is it coming from?" and my then delight in learning that it was a potpourri called Bitter Orange from a small company named Agraria, based in San Francisco.  The mother of my friend had just bought it at Henri Bendel, the only store in the city that stocked it at the time, and she was quite pleased with herself for having done so.

A freshly opened box of Bitter Orange,

revealing the treasures inside

At the time I had never seen or smelled potpourri before.  It seemed rarefied and exquisite to me, and I was entranced by it.  This was long before potpourri had become a degraded mass-market commodity found in every gift-shoppe, drug store, and big box retailer in America.  It was very special, then.  Bitter Orange created a sensation in New York when it was introduced to the city in the mid-1970s, where it became known as "the Park Avenue potpourri," as it was immediately popular among the city's uptown smart set.

I had to have it.  I went to Bendels at the next opportunity I had and bought myself a box of it.  I was shocked at how expensive it was, but that didn't deter me.  I simply had to have it.

And I've been buying it ever since.

Agraria's handsome box

for its Bittersweet potpourri

Agraria's Bitter Orange has spawned many imitators over the years, but none have succeeded in replicating its signature scent or quality.  It is unique.  Bitter Orange was the foundation of Agraria's subsequent success, and today the company's products are widely distributed, a testament to its vision and the integrity of its offerings.  I'm pleased that they have been so successful.

If you are not already a fan of Agraria's Bitter Orange potpourri, Dear Reader, I recommend that you get some, because I trust that you will love it, as I do.  But be forewarned: it is addicting.

Agraria's website, which features not only their Bitter Orange potpourri and related products, but also a host of other gorgeously-scented irresistibles, can be found here.

Photographs by Boy Fenwick

Reggie Throws a Dinner Party, Part I

Today's post, the first of two, discusses the planning and preparations for a dinner party that Boy and I hosted at Darlington House last weekend.  I thought it might be of interest—at least to one or two of my Dear Readers—for me to share just how we do it here at Darlington.

One afternoon a month or so ago I said to Boy that I was itching to have a dinner party to celebrate the arrival of autumn, and to entertain a group of friends—some of whom we knew well and others we'd like to know better—to an evening of pleasant conversation, flowing libations, and delicious, hearty fare of the season.

Boy and Basil at the Hudson Farmers Market in Hudson, N.Y., the week
before our party, to meet with our beloved caterer and also our flower lady

Throwing a successful party, in Reggie's view, requires planning, forethought, teamwork, and effort.  Although a party can be a casual affair, where guests freely mingle and help themselves to drink and food laid out at a buffet, one must never confuse "casual" with "effortless."  The term "effortless entertaining" is a particular pet peeve of Reggie's, and it sets his jaw on edge whenever he all too frequently comes across it in magazines breathlessly describing the entertaining styles of certain social animals.  Believe me, Dear Reader, "effortless entertaining" is a fantasy concept, indeed.  For a party worth attending doesn't just happen.  It requires work.  And why shouldn't it?  Anything worthwhile requires effort to achieve.  Fortunately Reggie enjoys all the preparations and planning that go into a creating a successful party.  He finds it fun.

One's enjoyment in undertaking such efforts is helped, though, when one is able to share said labors with others, at minimum with one's spouse, and—when possible—with one or more professionals employed to assist in making said event a well-run affair.

Christine Jones of the Red Barn
at her stand at the Hudson Farmers Market
Baker, caterer, restaurateur, and friend

When Boy and I entertain at Darlington House, we gauge the level of assistance we require by the number of guests invited and the type of entertainment provided.  When we have another couple over for cozy supper of four, we take care of it entirely by ourselves, setting the table, cooking and serving the meal, and washing up afterwards.  When there are six of us, though, we hire someone to help us out with the final food preparations in the kitchen, serve at table, and clean up afterwards.  When there are eight or more we surrender the cooking entirely to a chef, who is usually supported by an assistant and where the guests are attended to by at least one, and sometimes more, servers.

That way we get to enjoy our own party, rather than be enslaved by it.

The Cedar Farm stand at the Hudson Farmers Market
I ask you, who needs Manhattan's flower district when the good ladies
of Cedar Farm are so close to home?

Since we determined that there would be a total of ten of us at table for this dinner party, our first step was to contact our beloved caterers, Christine Jones and Bert Goldfinger of the Red Barn, who've helped us out with many parties, to see if they were available (and willing) to cook for us.  Once we determined that they were (Hooray!), we enlisted the help of a woman who helps us serving at parties, to see if she was available to attend to our guests, and were delighted that she was.

Marilyn Cederoth of Cedar Farm Wholesale
Plants-woman extraordinaire

Once we had the staffing of the evening in hand, we turned to assembling our guest list.  We invited a number of people who had entertained us who we liked and wished to return the favor to (see Reggie's Rules of Social Reciprocity), and we also invited some people we had never entertained before (two recent arrivals in the area, one of whom I first met twenty or more years ago), with the end result being a mix of singles and couples.

With guest list in hand, I picked up the telephone and started calling my hoped-for guests to invite them.  Please note, Dear Reader, I did not impersonally email or text my invitations, I telephoned them.  For when throwing a dinner party one should always strive to invite one's guests telephonically, in order to personalize said invitation.  Of course when throwing larger parties, say cocktails for fifty, it is understood that one sends out invitations via the post office (or, increasingly these days, by Paperless Post).

Olde Hudson on Warren Street in Hudson, N.Y.,
is a regular stop for us for specialty foods, and
where we stocked up on last-minute treats for our party

Once our guests had accepted, I then sent them reminder cards (in the mail) one week ahead of the party with the requested arrival time noted, as well as the dress.  For this dinner party we asked the men to wear jacket and tie.  It seemed a bit too early in the season to force ask our guests to haul out their formal wear for a country dinner party.

The marvelous Hudson Wine Merchants
on Warren Street in Hudson, N.Y.,
was the source of all of our party potables

On a parallel path with assembling our guest list we met with and had any number of telephone and email exchanges with our caterer to come up with a menu for the evening that was appropriately autumnal, and decidedly delicious.  As I've written elsewhere, Boy and I are of the school of entertainers who shy away from serving over-handled and fancified food at dinner parties.  We and our friends eat out in restaurants all the time, to the point that it really isn't all that special.  But it is special to be invited into someone's home for a dinner party these days, since so few people have them anymore (or at least invite us to them when they do!).  When I either give or go to a dinner party, what I really want to eat is what has come to be known as "comfort food."  And that's what we serve at Darlington House dinner parties—unfussified "home-style" cooking made with care and from the best available (ideally local) ingredients.  Not one's mother's plain, everyday get-it-on-the-table cooking, mind you, Dear Reader, but rather dressed up comfort food.

While we were planning the menu with our caterers we also contacted Marilyn Cederoth of Cedar Farm Wholesale.  Marilyn helps us with flowers at Darlington House.  We arranged for her to come by the house the day of the party to fill the Chinese urns in our drawing room with autumnal branches and to provide arrangements for the dining room table and the table in our entry.

Rural Residence on Warren Street in Hudson, N.Y., is an
invaluable source for candles for parties, among other things

The day before the party our groundsman/handyman/all-around godsend, Rich, brought in a crew and did a thorough leaf clean up and tidying of the property, so it would be in tip-top, manicured shape for the party.  We also contacted our favorite wine merchant in the area, Michael Albin of Hudson Wine Merchants, to put aside cases of white and red wine, and also one of champagne, and a replenishment of the bottled liquor we like to have on hand at parties.  Reggie also stopped by a specialty food court near his office in midtown Manhattan to pick up some before-and-after-dinner treats to augment the already planned food and drink.

Cases of champagne and wine, delivered and ready to be chilled for the party

With these and other advanced arrangements taken care of, we then drove up to Darlington from the city on Friday night, ready to embark on the preparations the next morning in order to be ready for our guests when they arrived on Saturday evening.

Next: It's Show Time!

All photographs by Reggie Darling

Summer Roses

One of the true joys of summer is when garden roses come into flower.

You can't easily find garden roses in Manhattan, where I live during the week.  The roses available in the city are mostly mass-produced and imported from far away, and are bred for uniformity and longevity.  While beautiful, they are somewhat soul-less, I think.  They are too perfect.  And they often don't have a scent to them.

Garden roses, on the other hand, are blowzy and luscious, and all the more beautiful because they are not uniform.  That's their allure to me.  Another pleasure is they fill the house with their heady scent.  I love them.

We are fortunate to have garden roses available at the Farmers' Market near us in the country, from the good ladies of Cedar Farm.  Their stand at the market is always filled with gorgeous and unusual flowers, and is a must-stop destination for us every Saturday morning that we are at Darlington.  Boy has arranged a selection of garden roses that we picked up from them yesterday, and has arranged them in an early nineteenth century Anglo-Irish sweetmeat dish in our drawing room.

They will soon start dropping their petals, slowly surrendering them to the inevitable passage of time.

Ephemeral beauty.

Photograph by Boy Fenwick

May Flowers

Last weekend, as I was loading up the car to drive back to the city from Darlington House, I found a basket of spring flowers waiting for me on the brick terrace in front of our kitchen door.

Boy had filled the basket, a trug really, with purple and white lilacs cut from our property and a dozen parrot tulips bought the day before at the farmers market in the nearby town.

I was so taken by the flowers' simple beauty that I asked Boy to photograph them, so I could remember them.

Lilacs are probably my favorite flower—well, at least they are among my top three favorites, which would also include peonies and garden roses.  I admit I am also rather partial to parrot tulips—so lush and elemental, verging upon the bizarre.

But how could one choose favorites among these lovely flowers?  They are so beautiful and plump, and heady with perfumed fragrance.  One is grateful for them, and for one's life when one is so fortunate to have their company, however fleeting it may be.

photographs by Boy Fenwick

Easter in Paris, Part II

Today's post is the second, and final, installment of my two part series of photographs taken in Paris during the week leading up to Easter.  I hope you like it.

One of the places my seemingly never-ending search for champagne took me to was Le Vaudeville Brasserie, recommended by Nick Nicholson for its over-le-top Art Deco interiors.  We were not disappointed!  Not only did we find the sought-after flutes of champagne there, but we also found what we considered to be the best oysters we ate in Paris, and this marvelous, exuberant bouquet of cherry blossoms towering over the main dining room.

We admired the zen-like serenity of this chocolatier's window in the Carré Rive Gauche, nestled among the antiques shops the area is known for.  It's so French it's almost Japanese!

I stopped at this tiny flower shop on the Rue du Bac because I thought it was terribly clever to scatter the discarded petals of the roses for sale there onto the sidewalk instead of sweeping them up and away.  So pretty.

One was rather taken by this chocolate egg in the window of Les Marquis de Ladurée on the Place Vendôme featuring a cameo of Marianne of France.

More chocolate eggs seen in another chocolatier's window, this time wrapped with springlike green and chartreuse bows.

These pâte des fruits were the perfect ending to a lovely luncheon at le Grand Véfour, one of the oldest and most beautiful restaurants in Paris.

One does not see such flower stores here in New York outside of the city's (fast-dwindling) flower district.  In Paris they seem to be at every turn!

Looking up into the Dôme des Invalides takes one's breath away.

I'm convinced the French have cornered the world's market in the creation of pretty confections.

What Easter would be complete without bunnies cavorting about, as these ones are at Deyrolle?

Shelves and shelves of chocolate eggs, bunnies, chickens, and ducks wrapped with orange bows!

Speaking of eggs, while visiting the sublime Musée Nissim de Camondo, I finally learned how to use one of those French copper bowls made for whipping egg whites.  As can be seen in the photograph, the trick for stabilizing the round bottom of the bowl is to nestle it in a ring made of kitchen towel.  This was an "ah-ha!" moment for Reggie!

Paris is full of musical offerings during the Easter season.  We chanced upon an impromptu concert when visiting Eglise Saint-Sulpice early one evening.

I got yelled at by the security guard at the Hermès flagship store on the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré for taking pictures, including this one of gorgeous flowers on display there.

One was able to console one's grief with cocktails and sandwiches later that evening at le Bar 228 at Hotel le Meurice.  I encourage you to read my FaceBook posting on that little episode, as I think you may find it amusing.

Just as on Madison Avenue here in New York, there is always a line to get into Ladurée's flagship store in Paris.  We were luckier at the Ladurée outpost in Saint-Germain.

Flowers and motorcycles are often seen together in Paris!

We thought this diamond and pearl tiara from the French crown jewels displayed at the Louvre was rather fetching.

But, to be honest, one preferred the more accessible rose-flavored cocktail in the bar at Hôtel le Bristol.  It was delicious, and a perfect "pick-me-up" during an afternoon of taking in the sights.

What trip to France would be complete without pausing to admire topiary-filled Versailles planters in the Jardin des Tuileries?

Or a visit to Cathédral Notre-Dame de Paris?  We were fortunate to find an evensong service in process there when we stopped in.  The singing was magical.  Of course one stood a respectful distance at the rear of the cathedral when taking this image.

And with that, Dear Reader, I conclude our whirlwind tour of Paris at Easter.  I hope you liked it.

All photographs by Reggie Darling

Easter In Paris, Part I

As readers of this blog and Reggie's friends on FaceBook will know, I have just returned from a delightful holiday in Paris.  While I was there I was enchanted by the decorations of the city's store windows, dressed in anticipation of Easter.  I took a number of photographs of my favorites while I was there, Dear Reader, along with snaps of other things that caught my fancy.  Today's post, the first in a two-part series, features a selection of those images.  I hope you like it.

I was rather taken by this charming display of chocolate eggs, bunnies, chicks, and bonbons in the window of a confiseur.  (Please note adorable, evil little child in green jacket . . .)

Paris is justifiably famous for its flower stores.  I was thrilled by these beautiful lavender roses.

As I was amused by this carton of white, milk, and dark chocolate eggs.  So clever!

The windows of Meert, in the Marais, featured a lovely selection of foil-covered chocolate eggs.  So pretty!

I loved this "mod" Easter display in one window.  The white metal stand is at least two feet tall!

What little girl wouldn't love a present of this pretty dress-up frock?

The windows of Les Marquise de Ladurée on the Place Vendôme featured enormous chocolate eggs, topped with chocolate ribbons.  The insides of each include a tower of macarons.  I was wild about them.

Of course seeing all those chocolate eggs made one long for the real thing, too.  Fortunately, one was able to do have them at breakfast at Les Ambassadeurs at the Hôtel de Crillon one morning.

Another window at Les Marquise de Ladurée.  I think the French really do the most marvelous store displays imaginable.

Although the weather was relatively balmy when we were in Paris, there were one or two evenings when any lady visiting the city would have appreciated slipping into this elegant cream mink coat that we saw in a window on the Rue de Faubourg Saint-Honoré.  Perfect for spring, non?

These topiary trees laden with oranges seen on the sidewalk one day made me long to have an orangery at Darlington House!

There were many temptations at La Grand Epicerie de Paris at le Bon Marché Rive Gauche, including this table of cellophane-wrapped chocolates.

This little lamb is actually a powder sugar-dusted cake.  What will they think of next?

Perhaps "they" will think of coating these chocolate eggs with butter cream candy decorations, as this chocolatier did?

Or why not blow out the yolks of real eggs and fill the shells with chocolate ganache?  I almost fainted when I saw these!

The Easter flower display in the lobby of the Hotel George V was suitably restrained.  So chic.

Can you believe the crazy whimsy of these stuffed bunnies and lamb at Deyrolle?  I loved them!

After all that visual excitement, I thought I might need a piece of this Tarte Cocktail to calm my nerves.

Better yet, I think I shall sit down in this elegant fauteuil, collect myself, and plot out where I shall go next.  Champagne is definitely in order . . .

Next: Easter in Paris, Part II

All photographs by Reggie Darling