Interviews
CHAT WITH LYDIA PANG | THE MAKING OF THE BONE BROTH CANDLE
The creation of a Bone Broth candle...
How do you turn bone broth into a candle? It started with an idea from Lydia Pang. We spoke to Lydia about the inspiration behind our Earl of East x Eat Bitter collaboration and how the ritual of simmering broth became a scent rooted in comfort, bitterness and resilience.
Earl of East: Do you see cooking and scent as speaking the same language, or do they unlock different kinds of memories?
Lydia: I think they do speak the same language, they’re both rooted in the gut and emotion. They both offer a moment of ceremony and grounding, be it stirring a pot or lighting a wick. They’re deeply bodily experiences, acts of self compassion.
Bone broth is such a distinct, nostalgic aroma for a lot of people; what does that scent represent to you and why was it the starting point for this candle?
Bone broth is home. It’s grounding. But for me, it also symbolises bitterness, a deep surrender. So more than nostalgia, which is often sweet and rose tinted, bone broth is about enduring the process of making it. Breaking down the bones, watching it bubble for hours. It’s choosing to nourish yourself with that process, healing before the literal eating. It's a lesson in patience.
“What does bitterness smell like as a feeling? How can we capture a punk resilience in a sniff?”
When starting to think about creating a bone broth candle, what was your starting point? An ingredient, a memory, or a mood, or something completely different?
It was a VERY specific moment in time, making bone broth for myself in New York. Captured best in this excerpt from my book, EAT BITTER:
I’d start by breaking down the bones. Pushing at the ribcage until it gave in, and then sliding my right hand into the cavity to pull out the silky giblets, smearing any excess that had stuck to my fingers across the chopping board. Any blood- soaked strings attached to the limbs would be gently pulled off, like unlacing a new brogue. It was relaxing to feel so in control, surgically cutting through submissive flesh, submerging it inside murky water. Even with the sirens outside, all was silent for a second, as I watched the little worms of fat float weightlessly in the water before the heat reached them. I would revel in how long it would take to be ready to eat, the gas flame on low, no timer set. I’d know it was time by the smell and the amount of BBC iPlayer episodes I’d watched through my VPN – an umbilical cord home. I’d put the lid on the pot and wash my hands, scrubbing under my nails with a brush to remove the sticky raw residue. And so, three hours of nothingness. Three hours where something I made was clarifying, enriching, becoming. Three hours where I could give myself permission to be useless, weightless. During these clarifying hours, the fat would collect in the corner of the pot, leaving only clear golden liquid behind. I’d settle into time and space with a momentary ease, toes spread, because I’d achieved something important. Arguably, it was the only important thing I’d achieved all week. Something that was truly nourishing me and momentarily taking me back home.
Were there any unexpected notes or directions that came out of the development process?
I loved designing the scent, and I think I presumed we’d go more literal. Of course, pepper and ginger, but as we explored the different scents and built the tone of it we started to play with more attitudinal qualities. Intangibles like aura and lore. This was really cool as I’d never played with scent as a medium to storytell before. What does bitterness smell like as a feeling? How can we capture a punk resilience in a sniff? We took it to a more conceptual space. It’s the feeling of bone broth, but it’s also the feeling of simmering, and sitting with yourself. No matter how uncomfortable that might be.
Did anything surprise you about translating a food into a fragrance?
How you can evoke the ritual of eating without being literal about it smelling edible!
How does the candle sit alongside the world of Eat Bitter?
Eat bitter is all about enduring pain before tasting a sweetness, simmering in the bitter and building sinew. It’s about the value of bitter as a vehicle for tenderness and surrender. I hope people sit quietly, light the candle and devour the book greedily
What’s another scent that you would love to see turned into a candle?
Char siu….sticky roast pork. MMMMmmmmmm.
Shop the Collaboration
Visit us in our Redchurch Street and be the first to experience and get your hands on the new scent, available exclusively in-store and online and pick up a copy of the book.