Introducing the Nose(y) Club
A monthly gathering for the curious, the instinctive, and those who trust what can’t be seen.
There are things in life we rush past. A scent in the air.
A leaf between your fingers. The way a place holds memory long after someone has gone. We’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. So we’re starting something new.
Introducing our monthly Nose(y) Club.
A monthly gathering—on the first Saturday of each month—where we slow things down. Where scent is not something you buy, but something you experience.
Each month, we’ll explore:
— a family of ingredients
— where they come from (the farm, the field, the still)
— what they mean in life, not just in perfume
— paired with some of the finest, most quietly brilliant Tasmanian beverage producers
Not as an event. More like a conversation.
There are moments when life doesn’t feel like a straight line.
It folds in on itself. An ending arrives.
And somehow, quietly, something else begins in the same breath. I felt that a couple of weeks ago. I sat with Sandy Rowe, who had cared for the land that I now call mine. We had developed a friendship over the 3 years since I purchased the farm and its splendid sandstone Georgian homestead built by English convict hands in 1823. I managed to see Sandy just before she passed and showed her the exciting plans for the next chapter of the farm. She was in her mid- 80’s and had spent over 50 years caring for the land with her husband Christopher, renovating the home, planting out a magnificent garden and raising their children.
I realised, standing in that final moment with Sandy, witnessing the delight on her face, that I hadn’t bought a farm. I had been handed something.
We think of green as the colour of beginnings.
New shoots. Fresh growth.
The optimism of something just starting.
But green is also something else.
It’s what comes after.
After the harvest.
After the cutting back.
After something has made space for it.
Green only exists because something else came before.
Tasmania, Poured
For our inaugural May Nose(y) Club, we’ll explore the green, herbal and aromatic family through scent—paired with tastings of the best Tasmanian craft cider. This is your invitation to explore the island’s most compelling cider makers—where orchard, time and technique converge.
We’ll be pouring the exceptional méthode traditionnelle cuvées Legana Wild Cuvée 20 and Wild Belle Cuvée 19 from Brady’s Lookout—ciders of remarkable precision and global acclaim, crafted with the patience and discipline of fine sparkling wine.
Alongside them, a curated edit from Plenty Cider — modern, expressive and award-winning — together with the quietly radical work of Banda and Two Metre Tall, whose small-batch releases honour orchard, season and spontaneity.
Cider is green, too—but not in the way you expect.
An apple is picked.
Crushed.
Left to ferment.
What was once bright and immediate begins to change.
It softens. Deepens. Becomes something else entirely. And yet — it still carries the orchard inside it. That’s what good Tasmanian cider does. It reminds you where it came from — and what it’s becoming. Fresh. Alive. In transition.
The Gathering
At our first Nose(y) Club, we gather around that idea.
Not just to smell green notes—herbs, leaves, stems— But to sit inside that moment of transition. You might notice:
Not just to smell green notes—herbs, leaves, stems— But to sit inside that moment of transition. You might notice:
- how sharp the first impression is
- how quickly it softens
- how the cider rounds it, carries it somewhere else
- how quickly it softens
- how the cider rounds it, carries it somewhere else
It’s subtle. But it stays with you.
We don’t talk much about what it means to take something on.
To inherit—not just objects, but responsibility.
To be the next set of hands.
To inherit—not just objects, but responsibility.
To be the next set of hands.
Green teaches you that.
That life doesn’t begin with you.
And it doesn’t end with you either.
You are part of the middle.
That life doesn’t begin with you.
And it doesn’t end with you either.
You are part of the middle.
This week, find something growing.
A herb.
A leaf.
Even something small.
Touch it.
Crush it gently between your fingers.
Bring it to your nose.
And just for a moment, think about:
A herb.
A leaf.
Even something small.
Touch it.
Crush it gently between your fingers.
Bring it to your nose.
And just for a moment, think about:
- what came before it
- and what will come after
- and what will come after
Because scent doesn’t just mark beginnings. It marks continuity. And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is simply notice that you are part of it.
Join us on the 1st Saturday of May for our inaugural Nose(y) Club:
When:
Saturday 2 May — 10am to 5pm
Where:
The Embassy in Sydney and The Consulate in Hobart
A glass in hand.
A scent on skin.
A moment to notice something you might otherwise miss.
Because scent isn’t something you wear.
It’s something that happens—when you’re paying attention.
Saturday 2 May — 10am to 5pm
Where:
The Embassy in Sydney and The Consulate in Hobart
A glass in hand.
A scent on skin.
A moment to notice something you might otherwise miss.
Because scent isn’t something you wear.
It’s something that happens—when you’re paying attention.
- Craig Andrade