Don’t Think of a Purple Giraffe
-
Kevin Godbee - Nov 1, 2010
- 8 min read
By G. L. Pease
In some ways, what follows is sort of a continuation of my last column, The Fickle Nature of First Impressions, so if you haven’t read it, it might be a good idea to give it a look. Basically, I discussed how our perceptions can be somewhat capricious when exposed to novel things, especially within the context of something as seemingly simple, yet deceptively complex as pipe smoking. There are many variables – the pipe, the tobacco, the smoker’s mood, the weather, what we’ve eaten, to name just a few – converging on that last puff from a great smoke, and a change to any one of these things can affect our experience in surprising and sometimes surprisingly significant ways. Amongst those myriad variables are all the things related to discernment, and that’s what we’re going to look at here.
What’s the difference between the expert taster and the neophyte? Experience and focus, mostly. We all have roughly similar hardware, and our innate abilities are close enough for jazz, yet how we perceive things can be markedly different. (Of course, some people are born with a greater than average ability to taste or to smell, but unless those native abilities are cultivated, even the super-taster has no real edge over us.)
Our ability to discern flavors and aromas is largely based on training, whether consciously or unconsciously. Much of this training happens mostly automatically. We learn to recognize bananas as different from hot dogs fairly early in life, and as we grow up, the list of what we can identify grows without much attention being paid to it.
The average adult is capable of recognizing over 1000 different flavors – a pretty impressive number.
If you sat down and started listing all the tastes you can think of off the top of your head, you’d likely run out long before approaching 1000, but the rest of them would still be there, waiting in shadowy doorways to pop out when you least expect it.
What’s different about the experts is that they’ve learned to focus more acutely on what they’re tasting or smelling, and to make associations that aren’t necessarily natural to the rest of us, and to build their vocabulary to be closer to those 1000 flavors. When we taste a grape, there’s no doubt that we’re tasting a grape, but if the same flavors were present in a steak or a cocktail, the connection might not be made so easily. But, we can all learn to do what the experts do, and, I believe that by doing so, we can derive greater enjoyment from our pipes and tobaccos.
Each of us has our own unique sensory library that we hook into when we taste or smell something. Of course, there is much overlap, at least within a given culture, but it’s the stuff outside of the intersection where the interest lies. And, pipe smokers do have their own culture, in this respect. Mention leather and smoke, and immediately, Latakia will likely come to the mind of a pipe smoker, while memories of horseback rides on the beach and driftwood fires might be conjured by someone unaccustomed to our peculiarities. That’s what I mean by sensory library. It’s not the words we use, but the memories of the experiences themselves. (From this point on, by the way, I’ll use the words taste and smell more or less interchangeably, so where you see one, you can just as easily plug in the other.) Here’s an example to illustrate this point.
I was tasting a couple wines with some friends the other night, and we were having our usual good time puffing smoke over what we thought about them. In one of the wines, I picked up on something a little unusual, and with my typical lack of concern for the linguistic conventions laid down by some of the more humorless wine people* I’ve been acquainted with, I described what I smelled as "old bicycle inner – tube." It fit. (Robert Mondavi, one of my early mentors in the art of wine tasting, would have been pleased.)
One of my friends didn’t quite get what I was on about at first, but the next time he poked his beak into the glass, the light went on. As an avid bicyclist, this is a smell I’m sometimes more intimately familiar with than I’d like to be, while for him, the same smell is tangled with long dormant childhood memories. What was an easy recall event for me required some prompting for him. But, when he got it, he couldn’t let go. He now noticed the aroma effortlessly. The smell had always been there, but it was lurking just beneath the threshold of his perception, not because the apparatus didn’t trigger, but because that trigger didn’t hit the long – dormant neurons that associated it with bicycle inner-tubes. Once that memory was refreshed, though, his recall was instant. (Fortunately, by the way, the smell dissipated as whatever was causing it slowly volatilized from our swirling glasses.)
Tasting tobacco is a lot like this, if slightly complicated by the involvement of the pipe, and its ghosts, and their interactions with the tobacco we’re smoking, and all the other stuff I talked about last month. Often, once a flavor or aroma in a tobacco is pointed out to us, perhaps through a review or the label’s description, it becomes obvious, whereas before that revelation, the same taste may have remained partially or even completely submerged. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been smoking something while reading a head-scratcher review of the same or a similar tobacco, only to have what the reviewer mentions suddenly appear from the mists. I’d bet something similar has happened to most of us. Once we pick that thing out and stick a label on it, we’ll probably never miss it again, even when it appears in other blends.
There’s been no sudden change to the apparatus. We’re using the same nose and tongue we’ve always used before these turning points. The difference is in the brain. New connections have been made, or old ones reinforced, and once these pathways are strongly established, next time, the recall will be effortless and instantaneous. Think of black pepper. Don’t sneeze. It’s kind of like a magic trick. Once you know the magician’s secret, the trick never looks quite the same again.
In fact, all sensory experience is like that, all little brain tricks, like a giant "Where’s Waldo" puzzle. Once you find him in the jumbled chaos, he almost magically jumps out of the page every time you look at it. Or, like the hairy wart on great – aunt Hilde’s nose that you can’t stop staring at once you notice it for the first time. Don’t think of a purple giraffe. Notice how quickly images can be brought up where none may have existed before.
Since I’m in the position of tasting tobaccos at all stages of their evolution, I am consciously aware of things in their smoke that the average pipe smoker may not be. So, sure, I probably pick up things that most won’t, at least at first, simply because they’re right on the page in front of me. A friend of mine, a professional opera singer, hears things in voices that I don’t – until he points them out to me. But, as with anything else, everyone can learn some of the tricks, and so sharpen the acuity of their tasting.
The most important part of developing discernment is to focus attention on what’s being tasted, and try to fit apt descriptions for the various flavors, doing so as specifically as possible. Don’t settle for "citrus" when "pith of ripe grapefruit," or "oil from lemon peel" is more accurate. Look beyond the clichéd terms in use every day, and find those things from your own experience to describe what you’re tasting. In very little time, the experience will be noticeably enhanced by this procedure. (Though, every once in a while, Latakia will produce a flavor that I, for years, have been trying to pin down. It’s as familiar to me as the smell of a rose, but I cannot for the life of me name it, and it drives me crazy. It becomes like a song in my head that will not leave. One of these days, I’ll figure it out.)
I’m not suggesting that anyone would want to always smoke this way. There are times, as I mentioned last month, when just sitting down to a good puff is reward enough. We don’t always have to engage critically, when sometimes simple relaxation is sufficient. But, overall, at least for me, the experience of pipe smoking has been greatly enhanced the more deeply I’ve engaged with it, so a little mental effort along these lines once in a while seems to be grey matter well occupied.
Try it. Take some notes next time you light a bowl. Describe the flavors, the way the smoke feels in your mouth, the aromas in the tin, in the pipe, in the smoke. Refine your descriptions throughout the bowl, getting more detailed as you go. In no time, you’ll be describing things just like the experts.
Since 1999, Gregory L. Pease has been the principal alchemist behind the blends of G.L. Pease Artisanal Tobaccos. He’s been a passionate pipeman since his university days, having cut his pipe teeth at the now extinct Drucquer & Sons Tobacconist in Berkeley, California. Greg is also author of The Briar & Leaf Chronicles, a photographer, recovering computer scientist, sometimes chef, and creator of The Epicure’s Asylum. |
Written by Kevin Godbee
More Pipes and Tobaccos Articles
23 Responses
Smokingpipes.com Updates
12 Fresh Moonshine Pipes |
2 Fresh Chris Asteriou Pipes |
6 Fresh Castello Pipes |
12 Fresh Mark Tinsky Pipes |
4 Fresh Scott Thile Pipes |
Recent Posts
His grandfather came to the US with a $50 gold coin in his shoe, opened up a cigar shop, and his most famous customer was Babe Ruth. He holds the record for the longest slow smoke in the world at over 24 hours, and he is the only man who stopped Chuck Norris from round-house kicking the Nording Pipe Statue. The most interesting man in the world, Jonathan Goldsmith, stopped by the Chicago Pipe Show this year to get kissed on the cheek by Neal Osborn. Wait, what? OK, I kid. Jonathan came to honor his friend and fishing buddy Steve Norse of Vermont Freehand at the annual Doctors and Masters of Pipes award dinner. Steve was one of the two recipients of the Masters of Pipes award and asked Johnathan to show up and add some color to his acceptance speech. Slightly overshadowed but no less important! Jay Furman was also honored as this year’s hobbyist Master of Pipes, joining me and a pipe-star-studded list of great contributors to the hobby and profession of pipes. Jay is a character in his own right. While I don’t know him as well as I would like, I’ve learned that he’s a kind-hearted collector who started the Artisan Pipe Makers Club, a place where new artisans learn, grow, and are challenged. There are around 60 artisans who participate, collaborate, and learn. Jay and Mike Bishop also started the Long Island Pipe Club, which has around 50 members and meets twice a month on different sides of the island. What is not featured here are pictures of the Doctors of Pipes. Both recipients were unable to attend: Marco Parascenzo – Doctor of Pipes, Trade/Industry Regis MacCafferty – Doctor of Pipes, Hobby Please join us in congratulating these newly inducted Doctors and Masters of Pipes. It is a great honor, and each of these men embodies what our hobby and industry strive to do: grow, educate, and cultivate its future. I encourage everyone to attend the dinner next year as it’s always illuminating. And now, on with the show. Sort of. You may be wondering what the most interesting pipe smoker in the world smokes…. I didn’t miss the opportunity to chat with this incredibly nice man, whom Brian Levine and I also remembered from one of our favorite TV shows, the A-Team. He was also in many other shows from the 80s, such as Magnum PI, Murder She Wrote, Dallas, and MacGyver, just to name a few. Jonathan: I actually enjoy simple and readily available tobacco like Captain Black or some black cavendish from my local cigar and pipe shop in Vermont. What about your first pipe? Jonathan: I picked up my first pipe; I think it was a billiard when I was in London many years ago at a place called James Fox. How often do you smoke? Jonathan: Almost every day. I enjoy a pipe in the morning and a cigar in the afternoon. I want to thank Jonathan Goldsmith for taking a few minutes to sit down with me and being gracious enough to snap pictures with many of us at the show; it was a ton of fun and made this year’s show even more memorable! This year, the Chicago Pipe Show kicked it up a notch with a new location, new signage, new pre-registration and payment system, new show executive staff, and lots of new surprises. Now, Tim Garrity, President of the Chicagoland Pipe Club, tells me that over 400 attendees were at the show, but they are still tabulating the numbers too, so this is subject to getting updated and expanded. We do have our dates for next year at this same location – the first weekend of May at the Hyatt Regency, Chicago O’Hare. Of course, like any good Chicago show, there was plenty of room hopping and the announcement board. The signage this year was super helpful in knowing where to go when to go, and what tables our favorite vendors were at. While the show was jam-packed, the spacing of the tables allowed everyone to move around freely and didn’t feel over-crowded as the tables and isles were spaced out to allow room for vendors and collectors to stretch out. The smoking tent was hopping all the time, but luckily, air flow and some great air purifiers by Lake Air kept it fresh. As usual, there was a great sample table with tons of things to try in the tent, and on your way to the tent, there was a conveniently placed cash bar. This year the tent was 25% bigger than last year, although you wouldn’t notice because there were more people at the show! Kaywoodie is under new Management. At the show, I chatted with Nathan “Greywoodie” Davis about how he came to take over the 173-year-old company. Tell me how this happened. Nathan: This month is my 5th anniversary of Greywoodie opening. I was friends with Bill and had a huge collection of Kaywoodies – I approached him about having them available outside of brick and mortar. He had no online presence and didn’t sell direct. He said if I wanted them to be more available, the best thing I could do was quit my job and sell them myself. He was mostly kidding because I had a really good job in the legal profession, but I wasn’t happy so one day I did give him a call and said “hey whats your minimum order,” and he said “You didn’t just quit your job because I was joking?” I did and I started out that way as an online retailer. So, in working with him, we did exclusives, and I learned about pipe making from him, both production and hand-made. We brought back some historical lines as well, and soon enough, I was helping to make the pipes I was buying from him. It was great for him to get my labor […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 605. Our featured interview tonight is with Pete Prevost. Pete is a pipe maker and the President of the BriarWorks pipe factory in Columbia Tennessee. BriarWorks is a a pipe maker co-op with several other pipe makers, including Todd Johnson, who co-founded it with Pete. Brian and Pete will be talking about what’s new at BriarWorks, and how they are getting ready to attend the Chicago pipe show. (This was recorded before the show that took place last weekend.) At the top of the show, Brian will give his report of his travels and what happened at the Chicago show.
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. It was only because I was both perseverent, and fortunate to have a local shop staffed with knowledgeable people, that I’ve been able to enjoy the experience ever since. At least mostly… How many fledgeling pipe smokers have simply given up on an enjoyable pastime because of similar early mis-starts? Fortunately, today, it’s not hard to find helpful guidance at the press of a key or ten. But, at the same time, not all roads lead to Valhalla, and sometimes the advice offered might well be labeled with, “Here be dragons.” The other day, I came across a short video on-line in which a well-meaning tobacconist suggested packing a bowl of an “English” mixture “nice and tight.” Perhaps somewhat ironically, I was smoking, or trying to smoke a bowl that I’d filled on auto-pilot, packed too tightly, and not only was having the devil of a time trying to keep it lit, I really wasn’t enjoying the acrid smoke the tobacco issued during the brief periods in which it was actually burning. “No, no, NO!” I found myself muttering at my pipe, and at the figure on the screen, my protests joined by the guttural growling noises that sometimes accompany my discontent. Defiantly, I grabbed a pipe nail, shoveled out the dense, asbestos-like clog from the bowl, swabbed out the shank with a pipe cleaner, more out of habit than need since I hadn’t actually smoked enough of the mass to foul the shank, and started over, this time paying proper attention to what I was doing. (For as long as I’ve been doing this, I still screw it all up sometimes.) Much better. This got me thinking about a couple things that are so important to the maximal enjoyment of our pipes, yet not often enough discussed, namely how different tobaccos respond to variations in filling density, and moisture content; two separate but related parameters. Once I’d been shown the proper way to fill the bowl, or at least a proper way, everything had changed for me. I also began drying my tobacco down as a matter of course. Suddenly, there was greater cooperation between leaf and flame, the smoke was rich and flavorful, and it burned mostly to the bottom of the bowl with few relights. Given that, at the time, I smoked latakia mixtures almost exclusively, there didn’t seem to be a reason to explore beyond my “new” approach. It wasn’t until my attention turned in the direction of Virginia blends that I had to look a bit deeper. The same technique that worked so well for me with latakia mixtures resulted in bland, and often harsh smokes with Virginias. I attributed this to the tobaccos, convincing myself that I just didn’t like the stuff. At one of our pipe club meetings, I was talking with a friend who smoked Three Nuns exclusively. When he offered me a bowl. I thanked him, and told him that I just didn’t seem to get along well with Virginias, that they weren’t for me. “Maybe it’s the way you pack them. Here, let me fill your pipe for you.” I watched as he rubbed out a few coins to fine ribbons, moister than I was then accustomed to, and filled the bowl carefully in stages, pressing it tighter than I would have. Prepared for a nightmare, I was instead treated to a pipe dream. The tobacco smoldered slowly and almost continuously, delivering a rich, cool, sweet and delicious smoke. After that, I spent some time exploring the impact of these two variables, moisture content and packing density, on different mixtures and blends, always with similar results. Latakia mixtures, and to a lesser extent, those with a high percentage of oriental leaf, taste and smoke better when they’re on the dry side and the bowl is filled loosely, while Virginia blends tend to work best with a little more moisture and a denser fill. Burleys seem to work best somewhere in between, except for cube-cuts, which don’t like to be packed with much pressure at all. (Gravity fill, tap the bowl to settle the cubes. Repeat until full.) For such a simple act, pipe smoking is filled with undefined complexities! The point behind all this? Often […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 604. Our featured interview tonight is with Jon David Cole. JD is the Owner/Tobacconist at The Country Squire in Jackson, MS, and he is the former co-host of the podcast, Country Squire Radio, which ended their 10-year run last year. We’ll have JD with the “From the Country Squire” segment talking about all the new things happening at the store and in the business in general. At the top of the show, we’ll continue our audio tour of Brian’s pipe collection.
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.
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 603. Our featured interview tonight is with Rick Newcombe. Rick is a well-known author of several pipe books, and he is currently working on his third book. He is a prominent collector of Danish pipes, and vintage tobaccos. He has traveled the world visiting pipe makers, and learning their different techniques. He is also the founder and chairman of Creators Syndicate, which currently represents more than 200 writers and artists. At the top of the show we’ll have a Pipe Smoking 101 segment discussing best pipe shapes and sizes that are best suited to certain types of tobacco.
“What’s the difference between the expert taster and the neophyte? Experience and focus, mostly.”
… and memory I think Greg; hinted at above but I really do think, as in wine tasting, the ability to recall a taste matters more (or at least as much) as the simple ability to taste. Again, as in wine, the only way to develop taste memory, if it isn’t there naturally, is by side by side tasting.
Some smokes memories last for years but, I would suggest by external association – at the bus stop on the way home from college, a first date, walking down the drive at Hampton Court – otherwise it’s a deliberate cultivation of comparisons and a trip to log them in to Hannibal’s memory palace.
Good point, Jim, and quite right!
The connection between memory and olfaction is very strong. I still recall my first love when I smell the synthetic green apple scent that’s used in some shampoos.
But, memories aren’t always reliable, and it turns out that every time we recall something, the process of ‘re-remembering’ it alters the memory sufficiently that, over time, it can be quite different from what it was originally. Of course, producers of things (like tobaccos) use this to advantage. Remember how dramatically a blend like Balkan Sobranie changed, albeit in subtle increments, over the years, but those whose taste memories were routinely ‘adjusted’ by continual smoking noticed little of these changes. Only those who smoked it, stopped, and then years later, returned to it were likely to scratch their heads about the difference found in the leaf in those later tins.
I think the whole issue of recall and comparative tasting is a great subject, if a complicated one. Maybe a future column.
-glp
It’s truly amazing how the 4 or 5 basic taste bud sensitivities: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and, some assert “umami” can combine to form the 1,000 flavors you mentioned. Greg, I think you’re getting right to the heart of the psychological aspects of the epicure’s art.
I’m glad to see someone else acknowledge that a big part of taste discernment is the development of a descriptive vocabulary, and the feedback loop which that facilitates with memory.
So much to discuss about this article, but I won’t hog the bandwidth here. Thanks for articulating the ineffable!
Enjoyed the article! Greg makes a viable point of once something is bought to your attention it takes command. One thing he didn’t mention was the pipe that is smoked. I can understand why, as identical pipes can smoke differently much as the same brand “identical” musical instrumentals can play differently for the player and sound differently for player & listener. Great article. The illucivenous of pipe smoking is like the onion that has many layers. Much like
improvising in jazz..the more you find out the more you realize what you don’t know. The never-ending book. Thanks Greg!
Ah, but I did mention the pipe in the previous article! Glad you enjoyed it, Funn.
And, Cortezattic, bring on the disucssion. It’s certainly welcome.
-glp
I have always hd trouble identifying, putting words to some tobacco blends I taste. Straight VA for instance. Comforting aroma for sure. They call it sweet tasting, haylike, etc. I never would in a million years come up with grassy, haylike taste. I occassionaly as a kid wound up with grass in my mouth playing a rolling around and such but never saw it as sweet. It was usually more bitter/acrid to me. And haylike? Can’t say that I’ve consumed much hay either, if at all. In the case of VA tobacs I have learned about breath smoking and can find comfort in what the fuss about straight VA’s is. I’m smoking MacBaren’s VA #1 as I write this and MB is known as hot. I’ve had it as a torch and as a pleasant experience. Nuff on slipping into a review,forgive me. If VA’s are grassy and haylike and that’s what it’s called that I’m tasting, so be it. I never knew what that ‘smell’ was in the tobacco shop at the mall was when
I was in my very early teens but I knew I liked it. Few friends said it smelled to them like old socks burning but it intrigued me. Starting pipes and thru Dad’s ionfluence tobacs at 16, I found that it was an english blend called Balkan Sobranie. You know I bought some. The older gentleman behind the counter told me that the thick, heady smell was him smoking Balkan Sobranie. Yup, thick heady, almost stinks but I like it. If leathery, woodsy is what that thick, heady aroma is then so be it. If it really is socks, guess what, I still like it, English blends are the grail of pipe smoking to me whatever the description.
Is there any particular way that I can enhance my vocabulary or whatever it is to more accurately decsribe what I experience while smoking my pipe and tobaccos? Sometimes your tin descriptions defy tastes as some are described as symphonic revolutions and not a word of tobaccos. However your descriptions do justly fit and gets me wanting to purchase different blends. Cumberland is wonderful and tickles my fancy and Barbary Coast takes me back to my drinking days, in an affectionate manner. It was me that messed up drinking. Thsoe are just wo that stand out to me currently. thank you and hope to see some suggestions on my question.
Descriptions are hard, especially for the guy writing the label. (That would be me.) Once in a while, I’ll talk about the various tastes that I get, but someone else might find something completely different. And, I’ve never quite got the ‘hay’ thing, either, but I do get ‘grassy’ from some virginias.
Going back to the wine tasting thing, I’ll share a story. As a novice wine-guy, I one day found myself sitting in a big room with a bunch of other pretty much novice-folk, and at the end of the table was Robert Mondavi. Bob was a legend in the Napa valley at the time, and we were all feeling, at least I was, more than a little intimidated to be doing a wine tasting with him. There were glasses and pens and little pads of paper in front of each of us, and he gave us the instructions. Smell the wine. Swirl it in the glass. Smell again. Write down what you notice. Then, taste. Aerate the wine over your tongue. Breathe retro-nasally. Notice and write. Then, we’d discuss.
We all pretty much froze.
“Don’t worry. There are no wrong answers,” Bob said. (Turns out, he was one of the nicest, most down-to-earth guys you could ask to meet.)
So, we did it—sniff, swirl, sniff, scribble, taste, slurp, whooosh, scribble—and then started discussing. Our experiences were often quite different from one another, but the more we talked, the more we all learned, and the more we began to taste. Someone says dried apricot, and even if you didn’t taste it the first time, there’s a chance you might the second. Or the third. It’s a process of development.
In describing Laurel Heights, I wrote, “The flavours are deep and round […] subtle notes of orange peel, roasted oats, leather and peat. The smoke develops richness as it progresses, delivering a long, clean finish […] hints of malt and grapefruit.”
Believe me, it took quite a few bowls to dig all that out of there but I’ve since had more than one person tell me they can discern every one of those flavors, even if it was a bit of a stretch. Others have told me they found things that I missed. Excellent! One of the reasons I like reading the more thought provoking reviews of my own products is to read about others perceptions of things that I’d missed.
The point is, developing the vocabulary is just a matter of doing it. If you think you taste grilled hamburgers, write it down. (Tasting an aged tin of Mephisto, once, I tasted BBQ brisket. True.) See how your perceptions change and evolve over time. It’s fun, and it may or may not enhance your enjoyment. If it doesn’t, it’s easy enough to stop. 😉
Enjoy,
Greg
I have found that it helps me to ask my girlfriend, Laura, to smell an opened tin of tobacco and tell me what it smells like. Then I smell it again, and I can detect what she got. I also asked her son once when he was here.
Some of the tin aromas I was able to write about in past reviews that I only detected after asking someone else to take a whiff have been; barbecue, Fig Newtons, raisins. Actually, I personally detect raisins and apricots quite often.
I’m still searching for a “old bicycle inner – tube” blend. 😉
Next time I get a flat, Kevin, I’ll hook you up.
-glp
“I have always hd trouble identifying, putting words to some tobacco blends I taste. Straight VA for instance. Comforting aroma for sure. They call it sweet tasting, haylike, etc. I never would in a million years come up with grassy, haylike taste …. hope to see some suggestions on my question.”
A thought for Tony. I don’t find straight Va. to taste like the taste of hay but it’s taste is reminiscent of the smell of hay! Smell and taste are inextricably bound together (as in wine again). The plot deepens.
I find compound flavors to be a stumbling block, especially when the marriage is thorough. One famous example is McClelland’s description of their tinned blending Perique: “…somewhere between the fragrance of cooked fruit and the mustiness of mushrooms…”
Now, that takes some powerful imagination — identifying a flavor as some esoteric combination of olfactory memories. Nonetheless, I think McC’s call is pretty close on that one, but only because I can taste it and reflect on their observations.
In this regard, I’m beginning to practice with food, trying to envision the result of spice combinations.
Compound flavors do muddy the waters a little. A couple different things can happen. Two or more different tastes can each retain their own identities, though more difficult to distinguish because of the combination, or they can integrate so completely that they form an entirely new taste. I’d speculate that the latter is rather rare, but warrants further investigation.
For me, much of the fun is in the exploration, and the more we pay attention to what we taste, the more we taste. The naming of flavors and aromas isn’t the important part, but it’s a useful technique for focusing the attention. If you look at a brick wall, you see a brick wall. If you count the bricks, you see the wall in a completely different way. Recording our observations when we enjoy a smoke is just a way of “seeing” our experience in a different light.
I enjoyed reading your article Greg. I’ve been smoking a pipe for going on 28 yrs and am just now beginning to taste the differences in the tobaccos that make up a blend. Don’t know why it has taken me this long. May be that I just didn’t concern myself with the type of tobacco, but more so with did I like the blend or did I not like the blend. I can pick out latakia in blend, but who can’t. Now when it comes to oriental and turkish I have a problem. Perique makes itself known quite well. Virginias have got me stomped, unless I’m smoking a straight Virginia. When I smoke a pipe I find I enjoy it less if I try to disect the blend. At my age (63) my taste buds arn’t what they used to be and my sense of smell is going very quickly. Although I agree with everything you’ve written and I still try to pick out the various tobaccos in a blend, I gain more pleasure from just sitting back and not worry about the ingrediants. I have the upmost respect for your expertise and your blends, but I guess you just can’t take the Codger out of the Old Codger. Thanks Greg for all you do for us .
__________________
It´s not easy to learn the differenses when you never know for sure what the blenders do with the tobacco. To have a chance getting it right i guess you need to have all the baccy fresh from start, no blenders involved. I have smoked so called 100% perique from blender and the original stuff from DA MAN and it was not the same stuff in a million years not the same baccy even. The differense was like water VS 100% alcohol so for a mortal like me it´s very hard to notice the differense.
I am in agreement with you Greg, especially the approach that if we are going to do something, why not do it with some intellectual engagement and curiosity.
Here’s something I wish was available – a chart of typical flavors to look for from principal tobacco types of blends – we have a great poster of wine flavors in our bar, everything from plums to stones to butter, leather, peat etc.,. each pictured in a grid of wine glasses, something we picked up in Argentina at Mendoza, so it is in Spanish as well, just for fun.
But following on what you say about being able to find a line of flavor after it is pointed out, there must be many pipe smokers like me who are self-taught, and don’t really know what to look for in an oriental, or perique, or red virginia, gold, burley etc.,.
Not the primary and obvious – we all get the raisins and stewed fruit in stoved sweet virginia, or the nutty toasty oatmealy elements of burley. What I am talking about is a reference point for common, less common, and unusual elements in the major tobacco groupings. And somebody explaining what the dickens tonquin or deertongue or some of the more esoteric toppings and flavorings resemble.
I can “get” the dominant notes in many popular tobacco – the anise in Orliks Golden Flake, the vinegar in so many MacLelland blends, caramel/vanilla in some virginia flakes. But what else might I be looking for and what is the universe and lexicon of possible notes and flavor? I suggest the business of tobacco is perhaps behind the times in relation to other “tasted” products in not being more forthright and providing better education for the interested consumer. Descriptions like “a sophisticated blend sure to satisfy all the day through” I find baffling. Hat’s off to you as I have found your labeling among the most straightforward and descriptive, and as a result I will try any blend you bring out on faith of the description if it suits my tastes by description. But having a more organized frame of reference sure would help me raise my level of understanding.
that´s my thought too if i only know english better it´s what my post would have said.
Great comments, gentlemen. And some wonderful ideas presented. I like the idea of presenting the different inherent tastes of different leaf. This is complicated, however, by the new flavors and aromas that arise from combinations of multiple tobaccos, and the additional characteristics that arise from aging, especially when aging in these combinations.
Yesterday, I opened a ten year old tin of Ashbury. Even though I’ve had quite a bit of experience with aged weeds, and even though I know this tobacco very well, I was nevertheless surprised by what I found in the aromas from that tin. It was remarkable. Dozens of new smell and tastes, few of which would be found in a new tin, or in the individual components aged as long. It’s a living thing!
-glp
the pipemeetings at Vollmer&Nilsson is often a deepdive in aged tobaccos and what is a better spice to a smoke, then good friends and food.
I am smoking G.L. Pease Westminster right now, and on a re-light 2/3rds through the bowl, I got a little taste of Pizza crust, like when you get a piece that is a little burnt on the bottom.
Side note: The tin of open tobacco pictured at the beginning of this article is actually G.L. Pease Westminster, and the actual tin I am smoking right now.
And at the end of the bowl it tastes like Cafe Mocha.
Mr. Pease I really like that guy’s chart idea. Granted it would take alot of the mystery out of some blends but hey man it would,in my opinion, help jumpstart new pipesters. And more ladies may fair well in considering taking up our art by knowing that aromas and tastes aren’t all masculine and tuff guy oriented.
I’m gonna straight up ask you. Will you consider putting together a baic chart?
The best time for me to find out those intricate tastes and smells in pipe tobacco is the early morning or the late night, when the air is fresh and other unknown conditions make my perceptions more sensitive. In other times I feel my self numb and can hardly taste what I am smoking; I know this is a sin for a pipe smoker. And yes, when one figure out certain taste in a pipe tobacco, it brings back–most of the times– a memory closely connected to it. It is, then, something similar to rejoicing in an imaginary world of memories and feelings. Taste and smell have such magical effect when it comes to memories; it is as if you live those past moments with all the feelings associated with them in a flash.
One thing left I couldn’t achieve; it is to decide what is this or that little taste in the tobacco. But I like this game, I think it develops our sensory and intellectual faculties although each of two is somehow opposite of the other.
I’ve found that the Pipe Tool App for iPhone has been a tremendous aid in helping me to recognize and keep track of the various blends I come across in my quest to broaden my tastes in tobacco. I have old favorites and relatively new favorites, but the habit of trying something new every month or so has greatly enhanced my enjoyment of the pipe. Thanks, Mr. P, for an excellent article.