Nasomatto BaraondaBaraonda smells like the pleasures of fall, painted with a light hand. A tumbler of whiskey held up to catch the glow from an open fire. Delicate little glass bowls holding red berries, quince, and apples baked slowly until they fall apart. An old book, open on the lap, filling the air with the dry, papery scent of lignin. A hint of caramelized wood resin dancing around the edges of the room but never closing in. Baraonda takes the heavy oil paints of