Stora Skuggan is a Swedish perfumer that has tried to recreate the scent. From their website:
> There were many attempts to cultivate Silphium, but they inevitably failed. It would only grow wild in a limited area of the north African coast. This, in combination with its qualities as seasoning and medicine made Silphium the most valuable spice in the world, outshining both saffron and cinnamon. The demand for Silphium eventually became so overwhelming that it was harvested to extinction, and the taste and smell of the once greatest spice in the world were lost in time.
> Our rendition of this historical plant is created by researching surviving assumed relatives of Silphium, using aromachemicals (the molecular building blocks of scents) to create an accord that we feel represents what descriptions remains. This is set against a background of ancient incense, woods and leather.
I only wear perfume maybe a few times a month, but when I do this is one of my favorite fragrances to wear because it’s not strongly masculine or feminine.
While their normal perfumes are 130 EUR, they offer a 5-sampler for 30 + shipping, with their 4 other perfumes also having some quite interesting branding histories: https://www.storaskuggan.com/collections/all -- I suppose a parfume you learned about from a wikipedia page is quite the hacker thing to wear!
Some web maintainer is going to get a call about someone ordering something that was supposed to have been removed from the website, but was still reachable through a search engine.
It's sulfur with notes of heat degraded rubber or scorched oil. Heated, it loses the pungent odor and has a flavor like mild, mellow onion with garlic, but not as distinctive as shallot.
Everyone around you not enjoying it will still assume by smell that you're eating a bag of farts, but it's pretty good. I wouldn't rush out to replace the garlic and onion powders in your dry rubs with it or anything.
Every July I watch eagerly a certain country graveyard that I pass in driving to and from my farm. It is time for a prairie birthday, and in one corner of this graveyard lives a surviving celebrant of that once important event.
It is an ordinary graveyard, bordered by the usual spruces, and studded with the usual pink granite or white marble headstones, each with the usual Sunday bouquet of red or pink geraniums. It is extraordinary only in being triangular instead of square, and in harboring, within the sharp angle of its fence, a pin-point remnant of the native prairie on which the graveyard was established in the 1840's. Heretofore unreachable by scythe or mower, this yard-square relic of original Wisconsin gives birth, each July, to a man-high stalk of compass plant or cutleaf Silphium, spangled with saucer-sized yellow blooms resembling sunflowers. It is the sole remnant of this plant along this highway, and perhaps the sole remnant in the western half of our county. What a thousand acres of Silphiums looked like when they tickled the bellies of the buffalo is a question never again to be answered, and perhaps not even asked.
This year I found the Silphium in first bloom on 24 July, a week later than usual; during the last six years the average date was 15 July.
When I passed the graveyard again on 3 August, the fence had been removed by a road crew, and the Silphium cut. It is easy now to predict the future; for a few years my Silphium will try in vain to rise above the mowing machine, and then it will die. With it will die the prairie epoch.
The Highway Department says that 100,000 cars pass yearly over this route during the three summer months when the Silphium is in bloom. In them must ride at least 100,000 people who have 'taken' what is called history, and perhaps 25,000 who have 'taken' what is called botany. Yet I doubt whether a dozen have seen the Silphium, and of these hardly one will notice its demise. If I were to tell a preacher of the adjoining church that the road crew has been burning history books in his cemetery, under the guise of mowing weeds, he would be amazed and uncomprehending. How could a weed be a book?
This is one little episode in the funeral of the native flora, which in turn is one episode in the funeral of the floras of the world. Mechanized man, oblivious of floras, is proud of his progress in cleaning up the landscape on which, willy-nilly, he must live out his days. It might be wise to prohibit at once all teaching of real botany and real history, lest some future citizen suffer qualms about the floristic price of his good life."
Max Miller on YouTube’s Tasting History channel did a recipe with modern replacements. It was allegedly an aphrodisiac so could be popular if a specimen could be found... https://youtu.be/D-QHd4_1geE
If it is like asafoetida ("devil's dung"), as mentioned on the linked page, I'm out. The only spice I know that can manage to seep out of a closed container in a spice drawer and infest the rest of your spices.
Given the roman taste for garum [0](also notably pungent), I'd have to guess that the similarity is real.
Yes I know. I have bought it and used it in cooking. Takes a pretty light touch to not offend many (most?) western palates. Very easy to overdose, but I have loved it in my Indian friend's home cooked food.
Huh. We usually joke that hing (the Hindi name) is like bay leaves - mostly there for tradition but largely tasteless. I couldn't tell you what it tastes like and use the traditional "big pinch" of hing in most of my cooking.
Bay leaves are exquisite with a totally unique fragrance and strong flavor. Tasteless would be the last word that I would use to describe it. Must be used dried and in small amounts.
Interesting. I agree on the ineffable quality of bay leaves, but asafoetida is exactly on the opposite end of the spectrum. It has a very strong pungent smell and taste. But it does come diluted with gluten (wheat) so maybe your particular brand has more gluten than usual?
Also it's probably worth pointing out that the bay leaves used in Indian cooking is different from bay leaves used in Western cooking, so beware. Indian bay leaves have three veins coming from the central vein on them.
I haven't heard it put that way about taj, but I can see how compared to so many other comparatively distinct flavors that it doesn't appear to contribute much.
And hing is like the MSG of flavors. You can't put your finger on why exactly, but it makes everything taste better.
it may even be still existing, i.e. it got to the brink of extinction and then by the time it recovered we had already lost the knowledge of it.
There is a ton of wild plants or animals that you can eat and probably normally don't (dandelion, wild fennel, portulaca, nettles, jellyfish etc), I wouldn't focus too much on one that may be extinct.
Taste changed a lot over the centuries, and I wouldn't bet that something highly prized in ancient Rome would still be as appreciated today.
"[A]safoetida, was used as a cheaper substitute for silphium [by the Romans], and had similar enough qualities that Romans, including the geographer Strabo, used the same word to describe both." -- the article
I don't get that article at all. Medlars are common enough in Italy in the fall and frequently made into gelato (nespola/nespole). Maybe they've disappeared from the UK...then again it's not like the UK is known for its deep culinary variety or knowledge.
Fascinating! I'd heard the name in 'Paranormal' (an Egyptian TV show I would recommend), but didn't know it was an actual thing. Or used to be, anyway.
> There were many attempts to cultivate Silphium, but they inevitably failed. It would only grow wild in a limited area of the north African coast. This, in combination with its qualities as seasoning and medicine made Silphium the most valuable spice in the world, outshining both saffron and cinnamon. The demand for Silphium eventually became so overwhelming that it was harvested to extinction, and the taste and smell of the once greatest spice in the world were lost in time.
> Our rendition of this historical plant is created by researching surviving assumed relatives of Silphium, using aromachemicals (the molecular building blocks of scents) to create an accord that we feel represents what descriptions remains. This is set against a background of ancient incense, woods and leather.
I only wear perfume maybe a few times a month, but when I do this is one of my favorite fragrances to wear because it’s not strongly masculine or feminine.
Here is a scent profile for anyone curious: https://www.basenotes.net/ID26151758.html