Murray’s 1A Linfield Review
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Kevin Godbee - Apr 10, 2017
- 5 min read
Kyle Weiss
Just when I thought my need for Latakia was winding down, it started to rain. I’m not kidding, either; I’m from the desert, and the weather so far this year has been unreal. Mount Rose, some 40 minutes from Reno, has the distinction from this past winter season of receiving more than 700 inches of snow–which set national records. Ten average-height men sanding on top of each other, and that’s how much snow got dropped. It will be the first year in at least a generation that the snow might not totally melt into the desert valleys during the summer. It’s our water source, and we’re lovin’ it.
What does that have to do with tobacco? If the snow is resilient, the Latakia is proving itself to be as well. With the rain and more balmy temperatures on the way, warmer temperatures push out the snow but there is still a need for warm comforts. One of those comforts came to me in the way of a tin of Murray’s 1A Linfield, brought back from one of my good customers at the shop who knows I’m always ready to try something new, usually something he found in his travels. As a truck driver, “Trucker Rod” as he’s known, braved snow banks many times higher than his truck and chained-up staring snowy-death in the face just to get this to me. Needless to say, I kind of owe him a review.
Murray’s 1A Linfield most likely got its namesake from the once-upon-a-time street address of the Whitehall Tobacco Works in Belfast, which made many a Murray’s product at one point in time (now owned by the British American Tobacco Group, if you must know). The tin is clad in a hum-drum, basic yellow label, a black chef’s toque-looking silhouette with the name stacked within it. Honestly, it’s pretty uninspiring packaging, but does give a nod back to the days when a label basically had two or three colors, a name, and “pipe tobacco” somewhere on it…you know, just so you didn’t forget. As an admirer of tin art, I find this example more quaint than nostalgic, but it serves the purpose. On the reverse, nothing useful other than it mentioning it is made with Virginia, Oriental and Latakia is found.
Upon opening, the sharp, spicy and smoky scent of the tobacco is right there to greet you. It’s got a fair amount of Latakia in it, as the kind of Cyprian that Lane/STG uses in their mixtures these days is especially pungent–I have to admit I’m quite a fan of it. The smell sort of reminds me of Nightcap, but yet it doesn’t…it’s much more sour than sweet, and much more peaty than “bacony.” If you’re at all into things like the Dunhill line of tobaccos (which the Murray’s brand handled once upon a time) the cut is typical of these. In fact, having smoked some fairly vintage tins of the Murray’s line of Dunhill tobaccos, I find myself equally charmed with the STG variants, albeit for different reasons. I digress; on to the lighting.
The rain was cats, dogs and jackrabbits when I went out to first try this stuff, and I’m glad, because it was a good way to start. I recently acquired a 1960’s Peterson Donegal Rocky (686? 636? …the stamping is a bit light…) with a fairly wide chamber, and once again, I’m glad, as it was another good way to start. Mind you, Lane/STG has a good number of tobaccos with varying amounts of Latakia, Virginia, and Oriental. So far, I’ve probably tried about a dozen of these tobaccos, and this one sticks out. Granted, someone else might find it to be similar to ____________, but for me, this is a new treat. First tastes of freshly sawn wood, grapefruit, tannins, those crispy bits that smolder after taking a steak off a coal grill…it’s amazingly velvety but lively and present. There’s almost no sweetness to the tobacco at all, but it doesn’t come off as too sour or savory. Like many of this tobacco’s cousins, it smolders effortlessly in a pipe, and smoking slow to nearly a crawl brings about some great sitting time. By the time the middle of the bowl has been reached, most of those lively flavors have mellowed, then the spice of the oriental leafs take center stage. If you like those little prickles on the sides of the tongue as well as the tip, the effervescence is a lot of fun here. Proto-exhale at this point, and the citrus-sours and Latakia really weave in and out. Setting the pipe aside for a few minutes and letting the tobacco rest before re-lighting is a real treat, too.
The only downside I found with 1A Linfield was the tendency for the flavors to get a little muddy and dwindle toward the end of the bowl, which was a bit disappointing. As I’ve mentioned many times, one of my favorite parts of smoking a bowl of tobacco is the flavors really coming together at the end, the richness, the intensity…sadly, I kept getting let down with this one. Much like the drippings after cooking a roast being turned into gravy or the “pot liquor” from cookin’ down a pot of collards (which I have plenty of rolls to sop up), the end is not always “the end,” and to me, it really shouldn’t be.
In conclusion, Murray’s 1A Linfield is a damn good tobacco–I paired it with whiskey and coffee, even once with a glass of red wine (a Malbec) and it was very forgiving. The spiciness is pleasant rather than overwhelming, but the Latakia might be a little much for some. Favoring pipes of just about any size, it can be a quick morning smoke or ready for a long sit on the porch. Nicotine is moderate, and it isn’t fussy about over- or under-stoking or tamping. I wish it finished as wonderful as it started, but in a way, that is preferable to a bowl being mostly ho-hum (or terrible!) and then finishing strong: you can always quit while you’re ahead, otherwise!
Written by Kevin Godbee
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When I first started with the pipe as a quirky and precocious teen, the only tutelage I had at my disposal were scenes from old movies in which a well dressed chap would stick his pipe into a pouch, scoop tobacco into the bowl and press it down unceremoniously with his thumb. Then, with great flourish, he’d strike a match and light the thing with all manner of cinematic excess, puffing up vast clouds of smoke falling just short of completely obscuring his visage. While it may look good on film, it’s a terrible approach to actually enjoying the thing. Somehow, though, this “technique” seems to have survived in the contemporary vernacular, at least to some extent, even with bit-loads of information handily at our fingertips that should dissuade us from the practice. But, at the time, this misguided approach was all I had; it’s no wonder my early days of puffing were fraught with difficult lighting, harsh, bitter smokes and tongue bite, all culminating in a fireproof mass of ye old soggy dottle in the bottom of the bowl. Ultimately, the resulting frustration made me give up the pipe, at least for a while. While the idea of it was still very appealing, the practice of it was not. It wasn’t until a few years later when, still full of curiosity and romantic notions of pipe smoking, I wandered into a real tobacconist’s shop, and learned my “method” was a long way from the techniques that would bring me to any sort of pipe smoking bliss. So, after my poor start, and under the guidance of someone who actually seemed to know how to do it right, I was given the opportunity to approach the process anew, this time with much greater success. 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Before we begin, I should tell you: this tobacco review is being written by an A.I. Not the fancy new GPTs or their ilk; no, this is last century’s meat-and-bone, all-organic model. To be fair, a large part of what we call knowledge is merely the accumulated perceptions and impressions gathered from a life wandered through, synthesized into a spongy mass of what-it-is-that-we-think-that-we-know. The algorithm for this prompt is simple enough: pump thousands of bowls of smoldering plant matter into a gaping maw, cross-reference the chemical sensations with all other matter previously ingested or inhaled, sieve it all through the diffuse and fractal twin lens of memory and emotion, and churn out a panoply of adjectives that attempts to convey the sensations to someone who hasn’t experienced it yet. Odds are that a diligently trained monkey could succeed half the time; if this reviewer nears fifty-one percent then that would qualify as an unrivaled success. There must have been some similar musings perambulating through the mind of Per Jensen when he began his mad scientist routine at Sutliff with the Pipe Force project, which brings us to the current mixture under the microscope—Sutliff’s Pipe Force: Episode I. Here again are the unusual ingredients that engendered the series, with the stoved Rustica being the defining voice in this composition. From the tin: The Latakia-forward English mixture offers plenty of smoky flavor from the fire-cured leaf, which is artfully harmonized with floral, earthy Stoved Rustica. A mixture of high-grade Virginias imparts a natural sweetness. Katerini, the sole Oriental component, offers herb and spice notes bringing complexity and nuance to the flavor profile. It’s certainly Latakia-forward, with the stoved Rustica doubling up on the rhythm section like a second bassist. A first whiff from the tin releases the aromas of shoe leather and hide glue in a base of clay soil with a campfire wafted over it like last night’s beach party. Once it’s been accustomed to oxygen again, subtle hints of sweetness poke through from the Virginias: lemon rind, light milk chocolate, the dregs of a peaty Scotch, and muddled cherry. Old regulars like fresh-sawn oak and tilled earth are there, of course, with distinct notes of truffle, creosote, damp peat, and pine bark mulch. As an aside, I’ve been re-potting my camellias and the similarity of aroma to the ericaceous soil mix is notable; the Katerini really brings the unique depth of its vegetal complexion when supported by the Rustica and afforded more voice in the mix. The smoky Cyprian Latakia, in turn, is backed by equal earthiness from the Rustica, which overall exhibits a profile similar to dark-fired Kentucky; it leans more toward the woody and vegetal end of that spectrum, echoing and amplifying those traits of the other constituents. The tobacco is presented pressed and cut into a couple of thick, hearty flakes in the tin, lightly moist and easily crumbled to prepare—I prefer mine with a bit of drying time. The out-of-this-world tin art for this episode in the series is Major O’Meara smoking a cavalier. In the absence of confirmation, I’m going to hazard a guess he’s of the Ithklur species. The first taste from the light is sweet, with hints of that milk chocolate dancing around the edges. The Virginia leads the smoke through the top of the bowl, and orchestrates it well. Thoroughly smoky with lemony, grassy highlights from the Virginia spectrum, it soon segues into the mid-bowl profile: heartier, smokier, with the flavor leaning to the mildly acrid and tangy tinge that is the campfire-esque signature of English blends. Caution advised, it can turn overly bitter if pushed—this is where one’s sipping technique is required to maintain the fullness of flavor through to the heel. I did tend toward a lot of relights, though it may have as much to do with technique as with the blend. Pacing is also important as the nicotine starts to manifest; though the Rustica’s contribution has been tempered well by the stoving, it can certainly upend an empty stomach. At the end of every bowl, the mouthfeel somehow gets better. The balance of sugars in the tobaccos would seem to be spot-on in this regard. I started out my tasting in cobs, then cut short an unpleasant bowl in a meer, and finally landed on my best instrument with the lovely Dunhill 4427 pictured, a quaint group 4 shell briar with a gentle curve and Cumberland stem supporting a perfectly executed acorn bowl. It surprised me here, as I’ve learned through the years that I generally have the best experience with English blends in large, wide bowls. With this blend it seems that to get the best out of the Katerini’s somewhat diaphanous influence the smaller bowl fared much better. Room note is very English, so the company you keep will either love it or hate it, and it doesn’t linger too much. I find it paired best with a strong coffee; Sumatran beans complement the flavors well, as do Ethiopian if a lighter brew is preferred. Overall impressions of the blend are that it’s a curiously interesting take on the English genre, almost a reductive reconstruction of the theme using the unique components. This blend, if nothing else, expanded my vocabulary of sense perceptions with the uniquely treated leaf. While the average human can distinguish approximately one trillion (1,000,000,000,000!) different aromas, multiplied by seven basic tastes, and wholly dependent on variables from body chemistry to atmospheric conditions, our overworked and underpaid simian brains can’t effectively catalog them all. Our pet adding machines are exceedingly good at this, however, and someday soon they’ll be the ultimate and unequivocal authority on what something tastes, smells, looks, or even feels like. Until that time, friends, revel in the moments that can be stolen to savor over a bowl of Pipe Force: Episode I.
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I’ve got a tin of this I am working on. I’m pretty pleased; will probably grab a few more to have on hand.
Thanks for the review!
Thank you for reading! 🙂
i am soo sad this tobacco is not aviable in AUSTRIA
Great review! I was intrigued by the 700″ of snow, so I took a bit of a googlemaps tour of the area. Gorgeous.
Currently at the top of my rotation. I must say though that I don’t find things to get muddy as the bowl goes along. Interesting that you do. In fact, I find that it is one of the few that retains its flavor all the way through, unlike some English blends which start off great but then get a burnt peanut butter taste if it gets too hot or if I find myself off in thought and start puffing too hard. Either way, you are right in that it is a fine tobacco!