Now smell and eat your perfume too

For over two millennia, Kannauj in Uttar Pradesh has distilled flowers, roots, and even earth into perfumes that journeyed across empires — from the Guptas to the Mughals. Today, an eighth-generation perfumer and chef is reimagining Kannauj’s legacy — not for a vial, but for the dining table.

In early September, perfumer and chef Pranav Kapoor brought centuries of perfumery expertise to a pop-up in Delhi, hosting 30 guests to ‘eat’ a perfume. Rose, vetiver, sandalwood, petrichor, and jasmine — each note was translated into cocktails and dishes that blurred the line between smell and taste. The immersive experience was the result of years of meticulous experimentation, starting with fragrance-led cocktail pop-ups at Summer House and Sly Granny in Delhi in 2016.

Kapoor spent almost his entire life in Kannauj, learning how attar interacts with memory and flavour. Every cocktail and course was carefully calibrated to reflect the top, middle, and base notes of a fragrance, designed to linger not just on the palate, but in memory. “You can’t taste if you can’t smell,” he says. It’s a lesson he absorbed while growing up in Kannauj.

The ancient perfume capital shaped his olfactory and culinary sensibilities, where mornings begin with the steam of rose distillation, the shifting perfume in the air, and earthen bottles of mitti attar buried underground. The perfume industry here finds mention in the works of the Chinese traveller Hiuen Tsang, as well as Banabhatta, the 7th-century poet in Harshavardhana’s court, who documented the production of sandalwood and rose. Kapoor’s family has been part of the perfume-making tradition since the early 19th century.

At boarding school in Mussoorie, Kapoor first encountered smells unlike Kannauj — fish and coconut oil, courtesy of his warden from Kerala. “I had never smelt something like this before,” he says. He even guarded his pillow, which carried the familiar scent of his hair and his mother’s, as it reminded him of home. “When your sense of smell is strong, you pick up on food in a much more intense way,” he says. It was this sensory upbringing that made the transition into the culinary space almost inevitable.

At IHM Aurangabad, he realised how startlingly similar perfumery and cuisine were. “Balancing a formulation of attar was like balancing a dish — spices, aromas and ingredients. That light bulb moment hit me: smell and taste are inherently together,” he adds. “If you can’t smell, you can’t taste. I first taste food through my nose.”

Earlier this month, at Home—one of Delhi’s popular bars—Kapoor collaborated with chefs Yutaka Saito and Subhashis Lenka, and bartender Santanu Chanda, to craft an evening where fragrance dictated the journey. The menu revolved around notes like rose, sandalwood, vetiver, mitti, and jasmine, each translated into cocktails and dishes.

“First, I create the scent,” Kapoor explains. “Let’s say I pick five core ingredients—not just distilling rose or jasmine—but construct a fragrance with, say, notes of pepper, cumin, and lime,” he adds. “That same fragrance is then expressed in a drink and in food. But when we eat, we’re not eating perfume. We break those ingredients down. That’s where creativity comes in.” For mitti, the team crafted a petrichor martini, infusing a mitti spray into the drink and even marinating olives in petrichor-infused vodka or gin overnight.

The accompanying meal featured truffle mushroom croquettes served on a base of ‘mud’—bread dehydrated and crushed to mimic soil—with the mushrooms’ umami and earthy flavours smoked with petrichor.

“Take fragrant ingredients, say spices and herbs, and deconstruct them across drinks and food. For sandalwood, we made miso-glazed eggplant, burnt asparagus, and edamame with a sandalwood-infused dressing by smoking sandalwood chips and the oil.” In the vetiver course, the fragrance appeared in a smoked artichoke and green pea nimona tartlet. “Each note in the strip of paper mirrored what you were tasting,” he points out.

With most essential oils highly concentrated, Kapoor is careful not to overpower diners. Balance, he adds, is at the heart of both perfumery and cuisine: a touch of spice or woody base notes — each element calibrated to complement the star ingredient. “Each ingredient is treated like a protagonist in both fragrance and dish, with supporting notes layered carefully to maintain harmony,” he explains.

Traditional steam-distillation from Kannauj inspires his kitchen — smoking roots, infusing oils, and creating edible extracts. A key technique is using dum: sealing copper or steel vessels with multani mitti and cotton, and adding water to build pressure. The same principle of sealing and slow cooking is used in making biryani.

Food, he admits, demands more effort than drinks. “It’s not challenging in a negative sense; I get a kick from it, but it takes time. Layers must be built thoughtfully. Some ingredients are more potent than others. After a few courses, or smelling several strips, the palate or nose can get overwhelmed.”

That’s why pacing, layering, and sequencing are crucial. “Jasmine is reserved for the end because its lush, diffusive character can overpower if introduced too early. Sequencing allows lighter notes like rose and sandalwood to shine first, building complexity gradually,” explains Kapoor. When asked if there’s a note he’s yet to use in his pop-ups, Kapoor smiles: “Oud. It’s strong, pungent, and animalic. This experience is already new for diners; I can’t overwhelm them just yet. But it’s coming soon.”

His exploration of scent doesn’t end at the pop-up. Kapoor offers a unique multi-sensorial experience at his 120-year-old ancestral haveli in Kannauj. Guests stay in refurbished suites, explore a fragrance gallery, and visit the perfume bar. The journey begins at the flower farm, continues to the distillery—where deghbaz, or experts in handling copper stills carrying 80-90 kg of flowers, steam-infuse fragrant water—and culminates in a fragrance-and-flavour-focused menu, featuring recipes passed down through generations. “Like a plum and beetroot curry that my great grandmother used to make. Of course, there’s my interpretation of it, where I do a slightly drier version served atop a mini naan with fresh cream cheese, mint, and basil,” he shares.

His vision extends further with the Indian Institute of Fragrance and Flavour, set to open in 2026 in Kannauj. The institute will celebrate India’s culinary heritage, offering short residencies of one to three weeks that combine fragrance, ancient foodways, and creative experimentation. Kapoor’s ambitions also include the Crystal Bar, a fragrance-and-cocktail pairing concept opening in November in his hometown. “We’re constructing cocktails like we would create fragrances, with a fusion of scent and palate.”

Nights like those at Home hint at the future: guests linger, conversations drift, and scents remain long after plates are cleared — a lasting imprint of memory and aroma.

Geetika Sachdev is a Delhi-based lifestyle journalist.