The Rarified Perfumes of San Miguel de Allende: Part Three of Four

By Aaron S. Reisfield

In this installment of the series, we explore the operation of plant hydrodistillation for essential oils. In an earlier edition, I projected that in recognition of Día de Muertos, Day of the Dead, I’ll be distilling the blossoms of the marigold known as cempasúchitl. This festivity is a time of cultural reflection on the idea of death, which is really a meditation on the substance of life. And the vibrant flowers, which serve as a centerpiece of the occasion, bear on my inquiry into the nature of life, as related by perfume. In my view, it is the flowers’ perfume, more than their brilliant color, that serves as a docent, guiding the souls of the dead back to the realm of the living.

Distillation at higher elevations tends to be protective of thermally sensitive aromatic principles, on account that boiling points are lower at altitude, allowing such systems to operate at reduced temperatures. As a result, fragile molecules and compounds are less prone to decomposition and hydrolysis. And, guess what?—such delicate principles are often the most desirable, expressing qualities of naturalness, nuance, and subtle radiance.

However, without specialized design, these same labile components are threatened with degradation or conversion or loss during the distillation process. Ideally, a system at altitude should be closed and tight, and condensation should be rapid and efficient. Which brings me to introduce the striking apparatus we’re fortunate to operate here in San Miguel de Allende. (And I’ll apologize in advance, as this description might turn a tad into the technical.)

Fabricated entirely of glass, each component of this hydrodistillation system is designed in relation to the others. The 50-liter round retort rests on a bed of sand, the plant charge naturally moves around, and vapors need to rise only a short distance to reach the point of their phase transition. They open upward into the reverse cold-finger condenser that has an extra-wide aperture and is held at an ice-cold temperature by an industrial chiller, thus effectively confronting the velocity of surging vapors and preventing back flow pressures, limiting their reflux. The condensate then flows through a takeaway tube into a Squibb separatory funnel, which allows for the cohobation of hydrosol as an option. It’s a tightly closed system and the duration of distillation is shortened, so as a result, the fate of our most treasured aroma principles is improved.

Actually, the full set of considerations is a bit more complicated, but the idea is clear enough? Our apparatus is capable of producing elegant oils, exalting even. Moreover, it serves as a great teaching tool, on account of being made purely of glass, so we can visually observe in real time each phase of the transformation, by which aromatic plant material transitions into essential oil and hydrosol.

Locally in San Miguel I’ve distilled plants including cempasúchitl (Tagetes erecta), eucalipto rojo (Eucalyptus camaldulensis), cedrón (Aloysia triphylla), jengibre (Zingiber officinalis), pe-ricón (Tagetes lucida), milenrama (Achillea millefolium), verbena común (Verbena officinalis), pirul (Schinus molle), salvia real (Salvia clevelandii), cedro blanco (Hesperocyparis lusitanica), estafiate (Artemisia ludoviciana ssp. mexicana), and a few others. 

There is a conceptual premise to the work. It undergirds all the distillations. I’ll present it this way: Plants diversely emit bouquets of volatile compounds that are immeasurably dynamic, organic expressions inhabiting distinct points in space and moments of time, vapors contingent on streams of circumstances, situational perfumes not amenable to reverse-engineering, and this irreversibility is an ever-present condition of life, being the story of countless living things that almost never were and never will be again. I distill these fragrant volatiles to yield singular essential oils and aromatic waters, or hydrosols. 

The discerning essential oil enthusiast understands that there isn’t much fixed or absolute or universal in the natural world. There is not oneness, instead there is one-of-a-kindness. Thus local distillates I produce constitute a sui generis collection, which I’ve designated as Impossible oils and waters.

Impossible oils and waters are measureless and unrepeatable, distilled in apparatus made entirely of glass, and favored by the low-pressure sky of the Central Mexican altiplano. We regard these artisanal perfumes as one-off curiosities of creation, to be found nowhere else and never before, in no other place and to be produced nevermore, distilled exclusively from local plants in the municipality of San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato.

Aaron S. Reisfield resides in San Miguel de Allende, México, where his endeavors involve the creative arts and perfume.