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Nathan Upchurch 2024-04-13 19:06:35 -05:00
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This January, I had grand visions for a sweet, gourmand batch of incense sticks. I'd start with a creamy base of sandalwood, combine it with plenty of guggul resin for that touch of caramel, a dash of warm cinnamon, and a sprinkling of sweet, vanillic tonka bean; these things were going to smell like dessert, like baking cookies, like your high-school English teacher's classroom when her most cloyingly sweet scented candle had been burning for the past four hours.
Things seemed to be going well while making the sticks; the dough smelled incredible, and extrusion was a dream — long, straight noodles that could be manipulated without breaking came one after another. I didn't sense that something might be wrong until I saw the sticks after they'd dried overnight, when I noticed that they were very smooth, compact, and *hard*. They didn't burn, either, which [isn't necessarily the death-knell](../patience) for a batch of incense sticks, but neither is it a good sign.
Things seemed to be going well while making the sticks; the dough smelled incredible, and extrusion was a dream — long, straight noodles that could be manipulated without breaking came one after another. I didn't sense that something might be wrong until I saw the sticks after they'd dried overnight, when I noticed that they were very smooth, compact, and *hard.* They didn't burn, either, which [isn't necessarily the death-knell](../patience) for a batch of incense sticks, but neither is it a good sign.
[![A small pile of short smooth brown incense sticks on a piece of MDF.](/img/_DSC0079_copy.avif "The sticks in question.")](/img/_DSC0079_copy.avif)