C. R. S. Lyles
From the Editor:

New York City banned all flavored tobacco without an exemption for pipe tobacco. Effectively, almost all pipe tobacco will now be illegal there. The FDA is now considering following suit on a national level. The supposed reasoning is to save the children from the evils of tobacco. Ok, fine, but why not exempt pipe tobacco (and cigars)? Find me one “child” that actually smokes pipe tobacco in a briar pipe and I’ll give you a million dollars.

They are potentially solving a problem that doesn’t exist while putting an entire industry out of business. - Kevin Godbee

———————–

This issue requires no preamble; the situation needs no context to understand its implications — there are those who exist in this country with the power to tell you what to do, and they are telling you what to do.

On June 22, 2009, President Obama signed into law H.R. 1256, the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act. Prior to this piece of legislation being signed into law, the Supreme Court had ruled in FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp. that the FDA did not have the authority to regulate tobacco products.

Now, one can argue that, in 2009, there was a decidedly partisan administration running both the executive and legislative branches and that something such as this was an inevitability, but that’s missing the point. For now, the situation is what it is, and the only way to amend the damages wrought upon personal freedoms is by playing the same game that freedom’s opponents are playing better than us.

One such method, as discussed in previous articles, is submitting legislation on behalf of the rights of smokers and tobacconists across the country.

Craig Tarler, President of Cornell & Diehl

Another way, though, is through simple education, which is where manufacturers such Craig Tarler and Leonard Wortzel come in.

Tarler, the president of Cornell & Diehl for the past 22 years, has said that educating the regulators themselves is going to be one of the first steps.

“This time last year, I had a complete audit by TTB (Tobacco Tax Bureau) from two agents who were supposed to understand the business,” Tarler said. “And they told me they had never even seen a pipe tobacco manufacturing operation. They were amazed at the cutting and the blending and the pressing — they had never seen any of it.”

In the first part of this series, Paul Creasy warned against the dangers of pipe tobacco being regulated out of existence by accident (due possibly to their premature leaps to “stick it to the cigarette companies.”) According to Tarler, this is exactly the way that it happens.

“If this happens [with agents such as these],” Tarler implored. “Then what happens to the people who are less schooled?”

The agents in question, according to Tarler, said that they wanted to use the Cornell & Diehl manufacturing operation as an example for training, but this is only a first step toward a re-education of the American population in how tobacco products are viewed.

In the eyes of the mass populous, tobacco in all forms is inherently destructive and evil and will give you cancer just from its smell, but to anyone who’s enjoyed anything other than a cigarette, this fact unravels quickly into the farce that it is.

Wortzel, brand manager for pipe and RYO (roll-your-own) at Lane Limited, spoke of how this misconception has long been a part of our culture, even up to the government.

Leonard Wortzel, Brand Manager Pipe and RYO, Lane Limited

“They’ve been attempting to establish a jurisdiction over tobacco products since 1995,” Wortzel said. “It was originally overturned by the Supreme Court in 2000 as beyond their authority, but every year since then, they’ve introduced a bill to give the FDA that jurisdiction.”

Which brings us nicely to 2009, where “they” finally got their wish, partially spurred on, according to Wortzel, by public health advocates, court findings in the U.S. v Philip Morris Inc. case, and support from Philip Morris itself.

Since then, Wortzel said, the first new FDA center in 30 years has been built: the Center for Tobacco Products.

“In 2009, the Center for Tobacco Products had a $78 million budget and 13 employees,” Wortzel said. “By 2011, that budget increased to $477 million and they had 370 full-time employees.”

But there is one thing that the CTP doesn’t have.

“Currently, the Tobacco Center actually doesn’t have jurisdiction over pipe [tobacco] and/or cigars,” Wortzel said. “It’s specifically written in that they don’t. But the intent and the expectation (for which they’re currently writing legislation) is to bring pipe [tobacco] and cigars under their jurisdiction and under the Tobacco Control Act so that they can more actively enforce laws.

“Now, while this sounds like more meddlesome over-regulation, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, according to Wortzel.

“The one hope is that the Center for Tobacco Products is actively engaging with the industry and getting up to speed so that they don’t make decisions and pass laws that wipe out entire industries when that wasn’t their original intention,” Wortzel said. “That’s what happens when they start labeling everything as one big industry instead of recognizing the breakdown. What I honestly hope is that there will be a sense of constructive cooperation between the industry and the FDA.”

Familiar rhetoric certainly, but if anything about the current state of our country has taught us about those who inhabit it, it is this: the repetition of words with a progressively louder volume leads to willful and welcome indoctrination.

For example, a recent news story arose surrounding an “economic life lesson” that was being taught to students at Valencia College in Orlando, Fla., by their professor, Jack Chambless.

The assignment Chambless gave to the class was an essay question that asked if they would be willing “to support a law that banned the right to own property and imposed heavy, progressive income taxes on people in order to bring about a reduction in poverty and ‘greater sense of community.’”

Now, for those of you who are familiar with the work of Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx, you will undoubtedly recognize the rhetoric of the first two planks of the Communist Manifesto, almost verbatim.

However, to someone who is only familiar with the language and “buzz-words” of our times, you would hear an answer to the housing crisis and a way to get back at the evil Wall Street executives and tax the rich “their fair share.”

Unfortunately, out of the 137 students the quiz was given to, 28% “wrote that they would support, enthusiastically in some cases, the elimination of the right to property for Americans and far greater taxation.”

True, the socioeconomic statistics are disparaging (due primarily to the rather lopsided nature of the income and capital gains taxes, but that’s another story), but I bring this example to light to illustrate an important fact-one which I believe all those who have spoken out against the New York flavoring ban, H.R. 1256, and further FDA regulatory measures — all it takes to turn someone or something against itself is the right choice of words.

Which is exactly the crisis facing pipe tobacco: a confusion of words. What to the mass population means “enticing to children,” means “a more enjoyable smoke” to a pipe smoker, or “next month’s rent” to a tobacconist.

Flavoring, casing, topping — whatever you call it, it must be accepted within its own context. Lumping in all tobacco products so that they can be regulated to death is…well, I believe the example of the Valencia class’ responses provides an appropriate parallel.
- C. R. S. Lyles

More from the Editor: FDA law, as passed by Congress in 2009, allows the agency to extend tobacco regulations to other tobacco products, including cigars and pipe tobacco. Currently, the FDA only regulates cigarettes, roll-your-own tobacco and smokeless tobacco products.

On April 25, 2011, the FDA issued a letter stating its intent to propose regulations on other tobacco products, such as cigars and pipe tobacco. The letter went on to state that these regulations may include company registration, product listing, ingredient listing, good manufacturing practice requirements, user fees for certain products and premarket review requirements for new tobacco products and modified risk tobacco products.

Subsequent to the April 2011 announcement by the FDA, industry trade groups representing cigar and pipe tobacco manufacturers have made presentations to FDA staff on the uniqueness of these tobacco products and the agency has not yet issued any proposed regulations for these products.

The FDA does not have any time frame or deadline by which any proposed regulations on these tobacco products would be issued for public comment. In fact, the FDA might, but is not required to, extend its regulatory authority to cigars and pipe tobacco.

Stay tuned to the pages of Pipes Magazine to stay current on the legislative front of pipe tobacco.

Carter R. Lyles is a student at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, FL and at the University of Florida in Gainesville. He is a journalism/psychology major, and in addition to his work at Pipes Magazine, he has contributed articles to Cigar Chronicles, The Alligator, Thursday Night Magazine, and The Fine Print.

G. L. Pease
I’m often asked why I don’t try to recreate some of the lost blends of yesterday, and, more pointedly, what I think of others’ attempts to do so.

That article showed that one of the significant components of this single brand varied over a few year period from a high of 50% of the blend’s makeup to a low of 35%. This far from insubstantial change is one that would be immediately noticeable to anyone who smoked two of these "versions" side-by-side, though perhaps would be less apparent if the change was introduced over time to a routine smoker of the brand, allowing him to adapt to the changes incrementally.

Bringing this single, rather dramatic change to light, however, doesn’t begin to address other differences that necessarily took place to the remaining ingredients over a similar time frame. So, if we want to attempt to "recreate" a mixture with such an "interesting" history, which version would serve as our blueprint? For our purposes here, we’ll choose a sample produced in 1979, one which would have contained 50% Latakia. (Please bear in mind, this is being used only as one example. Any blend could have been chosen for this exposition, with similar development.)

If, hypothetically, we magically gained access to identical leaf and identical processes, and were able to precisely recreate the formula of our prototypical sample, then one smoker with intimate familiarity with our historic mixture, coupled with exemplary sensory memory, might taste our new creation and remark that it does, indeed, remind them very much of what they remember smoking 33 years ago. Another smoker, on the other hand, might have become accustomed to one of the later versions, perhaps the final one, and in that case, they may find our attempt noble, but our result somewhat feeble, and quite unlike their own wistful, and equally acute memories. Two smokers; two very different experiences, without even taking into consideration the fallibility of memory.

But, what about the rest of us who may have taken up the pipe more recently? Any sample of this storied blend this group may have tasted is, by definition, old, and that brings a whole new kettle of worms to the party. Turn up the music; it’s time to dance.

Two tins of the same tobacco, produced at the same time, will rapidly begin changing, a fact well known and enjoyed by those who enjoy aged mixtures. What’s probably somewhat less obvious is that the respective storage conditions under which those two tins are kept will play a sometimes dramatic role in what we experience when we finally open them. I recently had the opportunity to see just how significant this could be when a friend sent me a sample of one of my own blends, one that he’d aged for several years, and I compared it with another sample of the same vintage that had been kept in my own "cellar." The difference was remarkable, and quite surprising; if I hadn’t known what they were, I would not have thought them the same blend. It’s conceivable that, given sufficient time, these two tins would have ultimately converged on something rather more similar to one another, that they would simply have taken different roads to the same destination, but given the complexity of the biological and chemical changes that take place during aging processes, and my own 30 years of experience with aged and aging tobaccos, I don’t find this speculation particularly convincing.

So far, it seems like any attempt to accurately recreate the past is pretty much doomed to failure, and our task begins to look increasingly like a fool’s errand. Since we don’t have a time machine, we cannot, today, have a fresh experience of something that hasn’t been made for 33 years, and our memories, if they exist at all, are neither infallible nor immutable. What we’re left with is the project of trying to recreate something new to simulate something old when it was new, without regard for how it might have been stored during its long life, thus presenting us with a rather daunting set of challenges.

Even if it was possible to make something today that tastes very much like something with over 30 years of age behind it, what will a comparison of the two yield five years in the future? Tinned tobaccos age quite rapidly at first, but once they hit the five year or the decade mark, further changes occur much more slowly, until, ultimately, the blend hits its peak, stabilizes for a time, and begins its inevitable crawl towards a slow decline. When we return to revisit our two samples in a few years, the younger one will have developed from infant to adolescent, while the older example will simply be that much closer to its ultimate decrepitude.

So, if we’re going to reach for a result that is at all faithful to the original, we’d have to somehow "subtract" the effects of age from our sample in an attempt to understand what it might have been when it was youthful, or "add" the effects of time to our youngster in the hopes of predicting its future, or some combination of both. Having spent a great deal of time and research learning how tobaccos change over time, I’ve reached the conclusion that this is much easier to talk about than to actually accomplish. But, we can experiment and make blends, and put them away to see what happens, and at the end of our exploration, if we’ve done well, we’ll have something we can at least enjoy. We can tell others about its genesis, and share the stories of what we’ve learned along the way. It might even be reminiscent, to some, of what we were originally aiming towards, a nice benefit of our efforts, perhaps. If replicating our classic tobacco was the only goal we had when we set out, the success or failure of our adventure would be determined by the experiences, past and present, of those who judge it. It really wouldn’t be sensible to take it all too seriously, and hear is where I begin to grasp for my final points.

The challenge of developing blends is, or should be its own reward, and new and wonderful things often can be found along the way towards what we’re striving to achieve. I’ve certainly been roused sufficiently by the experience of some vintage tins to create new blends of my own. Both Blackpoint andAbingdon, very different tobaccos, were inspired by the old 759 (see below). Piccadilly was sparked by an old Benson & Hedges mixture. Key Largo was inspired by a very old tin of Virginia #10. Triple Play was certainly not an attempt to recapture the spirit of Three Nuns, but was lured into existence in part by that fabled blend’s siren call. The list goes on. Creation of anything new is most often informed by that which has come before it, and tobacco blends are no different; even the most innovative have roots anchored deeply in the ground of the past.

To me, being inspired by something is a wildly different thing from attempting a forgery of it. I could spend my life trying to reproduce Boticelli’s Birth of Venus, and all that would ever come of the exercise would be the vague suggestion of a naked woman climbing out of a sea shell. A gifted painter might make a credible copy, but if that painter was in possession of such brilliant skills, wouldn’t they be better applied towards the creation of something new? Though I might enjoy a reproduction print of a famous painting on my wall, it would be silly to claim it to be "just like the real thing." So it is with tobacco blends.

So, why is it so tempting to chase after the past, even knowing that we can’t likely achieve what we set out to? Nostalgia, primarily, a longing for the past, the warm glow that comes from recalling the "good old days," whether or not we were there to enjoy them. This is part of what draws many people to the pipe in the first place, so it seems to follow that chasing ancient spectres is somehow almost inevitable, and it’s probably been a popular pastime for many during much of the past century; even when today’s celebrated legends were commonly available, there were others that had come and gone before them, equally mystical in their pull to smokers of the time. It’s certainly fun to ghost hunt, but it’s important to maintain a perspective that’s more firmly-grounded in the present. We have perhaps the widest assortment of tobacco blends available at any time in pipe smoking’s history. Many of them are certainly as good as anything that has come before them, and some will likely even become the legends of tomorrow. We should seek out those old, vintage tins when we can, if we want the experience, but we should also take time to celebrate the great mixtures of today, and stop worrying whether or not they are "just like" something they’re not.

Your turn.
- glp

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. See our interview with G. L. Pease here.

Adam J. Smith
Tin Notes:

Living in Canada, one has to accept winter as a fact of life. While it is true, we on the South-West coast are blessed with the mildest weather in the nation, the endless months of cold, rain, and snow have played just as large of a role in shaping our collective culture as the icy winds of the prairies, or the deep, drifting snow of the tundra.

And when that winter arrives, I find myself seeking strong, bold, and simple flavours. Stick-to-your-ribs meals, stout beers, and peaty scotch to warm the bones when the icy chill sets in. It was with this in mind that I decided to pick-up a tin of Cornell and Diehl’s DaVinci blend. Reputed as having one of the highest Latakia contents on the market, I expected this to be a simple, mono-chromatic smoke that satisfied the craving for the vaunted dark-leaf while providing a decent kick of nicotine - and while I wasn’t disappointed, this tobacco is so much more than just another Latakia bomb.

Now, before I go any further, let me say this: If you don’t like Latakia, you are not going to like this blend. The dark, bold Cyprian variant of the leaf reputedly makes up seventy-five percent of this blend, and is the prominent flavour. However, if you do enjoy the dark-side, then read on.

My tins are from an October 2011 production run, and as such have a scant three months aging on them at the time of smoking.

Offered in the standard 2oz Cornell and Diehl tin, I feel the label requires mention here. A simple sketch of a pipe, over a watermarked Virtuvian man all presented on an "aged" background comes together to appear as if a page was torn directly from DaVinci’s notebook, and offered up for printing. A simple, yet complex design that is reflective of the fine tobacco contained inside.

Upon opening the tin, one is met by the top card, denoting that you are about to partake in a Cornell and Diehl Vintage Blend, Created from Selected, Hand Blended Tobaccos For the Discriminating Smoker; and while this doesn’t play into the smoking qualities of the leaf itself, I feel that the extra touch does improve one’s perception of the tin as a whole.

Upon close inspection of the rough-cut ribbon, one notes the sheer quantity of the dark-leaf; altogether not unexpected in a blend containing so much Latakia. Interspersed amongst the dark leaf, one finds browns and gold in shockingly high abundance; revealing the true character of this blend - Latakia forward, but with a supporting cast that refuses to be ignored. Although the blend is smokable directly out of the tin, I find that it benefits from a half-hour to fourty-five minutes of "airing", with the added bonus of filling the room with a lovely, peaty Cyprian Latakia aroma (which is about the only note that I can discern on the tin).

I find this blend responds very well to the "air-pocket" packing method, and while this blend does offer up a large amount of the bits and dust that I have come to associate with both Latakia bombs and many C&D Latakia forward blends, I find this kindling to be a boon when it comes to lighting the rather broad ribbon.

A quick sip pre-light sends one directly to the peat-bogs, with the strong, oily, smoky notes of the Cyprian Latakia dancing across ones tongue.

The charring light brings a rush of pure, rich, and earthy Latakia with slightly nutty undertones. This blend can fight the flame a bit, due to the coarseness of the cut, and I find that taking the time to ensure a good false light will reward you later.

With the true light, the peaty, camphor notes of the prominent Latakia spring forth; lying heavy on the tongue. Hidden amongst the voluminous blue clouds are fleeting hints of sweet and tangy (think kiwi fruit, or those sour candies) interplaying with a very slight nuttiness.

As the bowl settles in, I quickly pick up earthy and slightly grassy notes, with a pleasant meatiness, both in the flavour (think slow-smoked meats) and in the quality of the smoke; which grows almost chewy-feeling. The tangy-sweetness grows bolder, while the heavy notes of the Latakia continue to dominate; yet not overwhelm. I also begin to notice a change in the flavour of the Latakia itself, with some of the peaty harshness slipping away…I attribute this to diminishing returns as ones palate grows inured to the flavour, blending magic, and of course, quality of ingredients.

As the bowl approaches the heel, the sweet notes begin to slip into the background, while a pleasant, almost musty, soil like flavour takes hold. The dominant note remains Latakia, however the harshness continues to diminish. A slight, almost (but not quite) ammonic note can slip in here, especially if you tend to smoke quickly. I also note an almost menthol-like mouth feel as I hit the last few puffs, which personally, I find adds to the experience, leaving my mouth with a fresh feeling.

Post smoke, however, this blend will leave a fairly heavy flavour of Latakia on ones palate; as well as entrapped in ones hair and clothing. While the former is fairly easily dealt with through food and drink; the latter does become an issue. If your significant other doesn’t appreciate the wet-campfire smell of latent Latakia smoke, you’re going to want to avoid this blend around them.

Along the same lines, one should not expect a room-note that will win you any friends. If one could reach down and capture the aroma of the seventh level of Dante’s Hell; I suspect it would be akin to this blend. Which is to say to me, it’s wonderful. To those around me, however, it leaves something to be desired.

When it comes to nicotine, this blend is no slouch. While it won’t leave me reeling, it did prove enough to send my nicotine resistant body into sweats when smoked first thing in the morning. Comparable to many of the vaunted Crumble Cake Latakia bombs in strength, I would suggest a snack before getting into this one. For the cigarette smoker looking for a change, this blend should provide the fix you so crave (it certainly does the trick for this guy).

The great Leonardo DaVinci was the epitome of the renaissance man. Known for his painting, Leonardo was also a great inventor, architect, biologist, doctor, and, first and foremost, a learned man of many hats.

And while this blend which bears his namesake is, first and foremost a Latakia bomb (or, perhaps more correctly, a "Latom Bomb"; as put by one of my pipe-smoking friends), it is so much more than that. Simple, yet complex; varied and never monochromatic; this blend has forced me to reconsider the role of the Latakia bomb in my rotation, indeed finding a very prominent place. Due to the intensity of the room-note and flavour profile, I would hesitate to call this an all day tobacco, but I do find that this blend plays prominently in my daily routine.

I highly recommend it.

Cornell & Diehl da Vinci Tobacco - Click Here to Order Now!

Cornell & Diehl da Vinci Tobacco - Click Here to Order Now!

Russ Ouellette
The title of this article might seem familiar;

It just seems that many, if not most things have changed in recent years, and in a number of instances, not for the better. Sure, we have better technology and things work so much faster than the old models did, but we’ve sacrificed durability for disposability and repairing electronics is basically unheard of; just throw it away and buy a new one.

We have space age non-stick surfaces for cookware only to find out that the most trouble-free non-stick pan is a well-seasoned cast iron one. The more choices I have for new programming on TV, the more I find myself watching reruns and older movies because the new stuff seems so trite and overtly commercial.

If this all comes across like the lead-in to a Jerry Seinfeld monologue, it should, since it felt like I was channeling him as I went through all these memories, lamenting things that had changed or disappeared. So, of course, I began to look at my livelihood, and how things are definitely different than when I began in the seventies, and if things have changed a lot in the last forty years, they don’t even resemble the way they were from a couple of centuries ago.

In the early days of pipe smoking, most pipes were made of whatever materials were readily available, and were usually made by the smoker or someone local. There are a number of examples of pipes made of clay, cherrywood, combinations of stone and wood, corncobs and many other materials. Pipe tobacco was often locally grown, and the variety was quite limited. As the 1800s arrived, a new material entered the picture- meerschaum. This light, white, gold or pink hued material was a good choice as it was easy to carve, attractive and heat-resistant. Most of these pipes were, and are, of foreign manufacture, making the availability spotty and the prices, at times, rather prohibitive.

By the middle of the 19th century, briar began to be made into pipes in France, and more varieties of tobacco became available, and some European products started making their way into the U.S. In the latter part of the 1800s some brands began to be distributed nationally, and the diversity of available items grew rapidly. During this time, the image of pipe smokers also began to change to one of sophistication and calm, which drew more people to take it up. The very image of gentility was the British gentleman, who was characterized by the bowler, bumbershoot, suit with waistcoat and the ever-present pipe.

The cigarette started making greater inroads around the time of World War I, as they were easier to use and didn’t last as long which made them more convenient when time was limited, but the smoke of choice was still the pipe. U.S. brands like KBB, which began to be distributed more or less nationally by the 1880s, were very popular and brands like Dunhill started to become available in this country. Blends containing Oriental tobaccos, Latakia and Perique were more plentiful, and pipe smoking as a pastime and hobby, rather than a habit, developed.

Pipe smoking was still strong through World War II and right on until the mid-seventies, when a precipitous drop-off began, but during that period, some legendary pipes and tobaccos were commonly found in smokeshops. The pipes included Dunhill, Charatan, Sasieni, Barling, GBD, Kaywoodie, Comoy’s among many others along with the influx of Danish-made products in the latter part of this period. Great tobaccos lined tobacconists shelves, like Rattray’s, Dunhill, John Cotton’s, the various Sobranies, Four Square, Marcovitch, Three Nuns and the list goes on and on.

By the latter seventies the decline in pipe smoking became so noticeable that a number of these companies began to fail and some of these beloved brands started to disappear, much to the chagrin of long-time pipesters everywhere. The downturn continued through the eighties and nineties, and things looked bleak for the hobby. Then things changed partly because of a subculture from an unexpected place- the United States.

In the last 30 years or so, American pipe makers have stormed onto the scene and have been recognized worldwide for their craftsmanship. People like Elliott Nachwalter, J.T. Cooke, Paul Bonacquisti, Lee Von Erck, Bruce Weaver, Brad Pohlmann, Jeff Gracik, Rad Davis among so many others raised the level of artisanship of U.S. pipemakers to a parallel with craftsmen from anywhere.

Some of the best quality and most innovative tobaccos during this period have come from companies such as McClelland, Cornell & Diehl, Altadis and G.L. Pease, plus a number of smaller "boutique" manufacturers. The newfound supplies of some Oriental varietals and the resurgence of Perique processing have aided in this movement, and the market currently has the widest variety of blends in memory.

With the myriad choices that today’s pipe smoker has, the hobby is seeing a new spark of life. We’re seeing a not-inconsiderable group of college age adults recognize the enjoyment and serenity that pipe smoking can provide. These new smokers are finding themselves in the middle of a new "golden age", and they’re probably not even aware of it.

Having started in the tobacco industry in the mid-seventies, when pipe smoking was still fairly strong, but starting to decline, I’m encouraged by the wonderful pipes being made and the top-notch blends being produced. There’s no doubt in my mind that in another 20 or 30 years, people will use the same reverent tones in speaking of today’s pipes and tobaccos that we "old guys" use in reference to many of our past favorites.

I may miss some of the lines of pipes I used to enjoy and I still wax nostalgic about a bowl of Bengal Slices, but in my years of being a pipe smoker, I look upon today as the new "good old days".

Adam J. Smith
Tin Notes:

When I hear the word "Orient", I am immediately swept back to my days in Hong Kong. Although I was but a young boy (or, perhaps because of it), I have very vivid memories of the city. The sights and sounds; somehow familiar, yet so different to the ways of Western society in which I was raised. Navigating ones way through the sea of concrete, literally awash with masses of people jostling and shoving for position with an almost manic energy. The glow of neon and the clack of the omni-present Mah-jong parlour, the cacophony of voices and the throngs of vehicles.

But for me, nothing says Hong Kong - or the Orient for that matter - than the multitude of flavours and aromas found throughout the region. Street vendors line the sidewalks, proffering savory and succulent dishes for mere pennies. Entire towers comprised of various restaurants, each offering a different cuisine. Traditional Asian cuisine is well represented, of course, but having acted as the confluence between Oriental and Occidental cultures for decades has helped to shape the culinary shape of the city into something unique.

However, to only look at Hong Kong as representative of the Orient would be like looking at Captain Black as representative of all tobaccos. A massive section of land, the Orient encompasses parts of three continents, stretching from Eastern Europe across Asia to the Pacific Ocean; and from the Middle-East to the barren lands of Siberia in the high-Arctic.

This huge tract of land encompasses a plethora of cultures; with a myriad of lifestyles dependant, by and large, upon the surrounding environment and the type of agriculture that it will support. As one can imagine, the quest for simple nourishment drove the growth of cultural flavour for these different peoples, and as they flourished, each region became synonymous with the flavours they produce. With a slew of different climates, the area we refer to as the Orient produces several different varietals of spices, teas, and food-stuffs; each offering a singular experience. This too is true for tobaccos; with a myriad of varietals of our favourite plant, being produced throughout the region. Indeed, many of the Oriental varietals bear the names of the regions in which they are (or were originally) produced. Many more knowledgeable than I have written at great length on these various leaves, and I encourage you to read these works; for it would be an injustice were I to attempt to include all the many varieties in this article - both to the blend at hand and to the history of the leaf itself. But I digress.

With many of our favourite "condiment" type varietals coming out of the Orient, it seems only fitting that the area lend it’s name to a blend. In 2007, the Pipe Club of America released just such a blend, Orient 996, in a limited production (300 odd tins). In 2009, McClelland released a second batch of this blend under the name Orient 996 Vintage 2007 Pipe Tobacco under the "Collectors Series", and it is from this that my tins have come.

I first encountered this tobacco when visiting with a pipe-smoking friend of mine. Generously opening up his "active rotation" to me, I found my eyes kept returning to a lone tin; heavy black stock pressed with simple gold-leaf…Orient 996. Filling my bowl from his tin, I knew in an instant this tobacco was for me. Taking a second bowl for the road, I hurried home to place my own order.

A few days later, a package arrived at my door; my order had arrived! Grabbing my camera, I fired off a few shots of the tin (more on that later), grabbed a pipe, and sat down…only to discover with horror that this didn’t resemble the blend I had smoked at all!
It turns out this tobacco blend is a very strange creature. It really seems to benefit from exposure to oxygen. Although it is only slightly damp out of the tin, I find that four hours plus dry time really bring out delicate balance of the Oriental leaf…any less leaves me with a muddled and somewhat bitey mess to deal with.

The tin-note carries the familiar rich, tangy notes that are synonymous with McClellands pressed and stoved Virginias (thank you to Mr. Tad Gage for clarification on the source of this aroma), but with a sweet, almost fruity undertone. And yes, that means the hint of "ketchup" is present, but like all McClelland blends with this aroma I’ve encountered, this is limited to the tin-note only, and doesn’t transfer to the smoke.

A mixture of chocolate and nut browns, coppery golds, and blacks, this blend is presented as a coarse-cut ribbon. I do find the occasional chunk of broken flake that wasn’t fully tumbled, and suggest rubbing these out further, to avoid "pockets" of dominant flavouring.

This blend responds well to both the "three-stage" and "air pocket" packing methods; and although it smokes beautifully in briar, clay and meerschaum, it simply sings in a cob. A quick sip on the stem prior to lighting brings a mild fruity sweetness with a light herbal note to the palate.

On the charring light, I detect strong notes of sweet raisin, with the slightest hint of vanilla making up the main body of the flavour profile, while the faint note of herbs dance fleetingly across the back of the palate.

With the true light, the flavour profile grows markedly more pronounced, with the rich, fruity sweetness growing all the more pronounced. Interwoven amongst the sweetness are hints of herbal (think thyme) and incense like notes of the Oriental varietals and Syrian Latakia; capped off with the slightest hint of vanilla. Every so often, a slightly sour note will take hold, only to disappear almost as soon as it is detected.

As the bowl progresses through the mid-point, the sweetness grows yet more marked, taking on a flavour profile akin to a Creme Brule mixed with fragrant Middle Eastern herbs. Woody, earthy notes begin to appear around half-way as well, with the occasional peppery note adding a bit of excitement to the mix. The sour notes detected in the top portion of the bowl remain, growing slightly bolder in character; yet remaining fleeting.

The bottom third of the bowl bring an ever-changing melange of sweet notes, first taking on the flavours of a pie-crust, then a marked marshmallow note, before finally settling on a nutty, nougat like flavour. The fleeting sourness remains in the background, while the wood-like notes grow bolder, giving off a flavour akin to the aroma of a power-saw cutting through pine board-stock. As one reaches the heel, the final puffs bring strong flavours of sweet spiced rum.

The aftertaste leaves a strong note of Latakia on the tongue, which I find rather interesting, as this is actually bolder than the Latakia flavours in the smoke itself.

The room-note on this blend is tolerable, bordering on pleasant for the non-smoker. The fruity-sweet notes of the Virginias form the base, with the intoxicating aroma of Orientals gently caressing the olfactory senses, never overpowering, but rather hinting at the depth of flavours to be found.

The burning qualities of this tobacco are superb (even when smoked straight from the tin), requiring the bare minimum of fiddling and relights to smoke rim to heel, leaving minimal dottle behind.

When it comes to nicotine, this blend is about equivalent to a regular cigarette. I find it satisfies my need for the Vitamin N, however is light enough to smoke before breakfast without concern.

Now, to the bad…and there are three issues I came across with this blend.

Firstly; I find that this blend can, and will bite if either not dried enough, or not given enough respect. Secondly; while the flavour profile of this blend is wonderful, I find it to be a touch to fatiguing to the palate for all day smoking - a couple of bowls a day are about all I can manage. Thirdly; that classy gold-leaf on black stock label I referred to earlier? Next to impossible to photograph with my seriously lacking photography skills.

I would be remiss, however, not to note that the first two detractors which I have noted could very well be due to an issue with my personal mouth-chemistry (something I experience from time to time, always, seemingly, in blends that I enjoy); whilst the third is definitely due to a personal deficiency!

It is difficult to smoke this blend without making comparisons to it’s "sister" blend, McClelland PCCA Tudor Castle; indeed, some pipe-smokers note that the blends seem to be almost one and the same, albeit the Tudor Castle featuring Perique whilst the Orient 996 features Syrian Latakia. I, however, feel that such a statement does not do either blend full credit. While there are numerous similarities, the differences are just as voluminous and marked. While the Tudor Castle provides a heady, stout and earthy smoke, Orient 996 is light, sweet and flavourful. Both blends are winners in my book, and have found homes within my cellar.

I Recommend It!

McClelland Orient 996 - Click Here to Order Now!

McClelland Orient 996 - Click Here to Order Now!

… But we already knew it was cool …

By Ethan Brandt
Imagine that there is a chain gun blasting away about 20 feet in front of you. Its target: You. How do you respond? By lying down and calmly smoking a pipe, of course! At least, that’s what you would do as Robert Downey, Jr.’s rendition of Sherlock Holmes.

Naturally, this is quite a new situation for Sherlock Holmes, as is easily recognizable by even the most casual of fans. However, no matter which Sherlock Holmes we are discussing, whether he be portrayed by Robert Downey, Jr., Jeremy Brett, Basil Rathbone, Benedict Cumberbatch, or even if he is simply a character on a page, we can be sure that he will have a particular item: a pipe. The pipe, even more than the hat, coat, and magnifying glass, is a signature of Sherlock Holmes. It defined him. The question that is rarely asked, however, is how did Holmes define the pipe?

A great many people, particularly pipe smokers, are familiar with the written works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the eccentric character of Sherlock Holmes. Even in these early stories, the pipe was a frequent player. As master blender Russ Oullette recently explained [in his article; "The Great Detective and His Pipes"], Holmes had three pipes of which he was fond: a briar, a cherrywood, and a clay. Each of these pipes had a different place in the arsenal of Holmes, but it was almost without doubt that they were primarily lit during times of contemplation and relaxation.

This trend continued throughout the vast majority of interpretations of the quirky detective. When he would be lounging in his armchair, perhaps idly bowing his violin, he would have his pipe lit. Most frequently, he would strike a match and light up when he was having to do some serious thinking about a new case.

This is the first and one of the most important ways that the character of Sherlock Holmes defined pipes. To this day, pipes are linked with thoughtfulness, contemplation, and intelligence. It is hard to believe that this is in no small part due to their role in the mysteries solved by Mr. Holmes in the early stories and movie depictions.

As a major figure of English literature and, later, film, it really isn’t surprising that the character of Sherlock Holmes had a lasting impact on everything he touched, from the style of his hat to the magnifying glass to the pipe. Even such minutiae as a particular style of pipe, namely the calabash, that an actor portraying Holmes on stage decided to smoke had a lasting impact. To date, it is nearly impossible for a layman to see a calabash and not think of the Great Detective.

With it firmly established that former incarnations of Sherlock Holmes have helped to define the pipe, it is worth inquiring what impact, if any, Robert Downey, Jr.’s version will have.

A little after I saw the first movie, I started hunting for the pipe that Downey, Jr.’s Holmes smoked throughout the entire film. It turned out to be a black Dunhill billiard, sandblasted, with a saddle-bit, if you are interested.

While hunting, I stumbled across a piece in the New York Times’ Men’s Fashion blog entitled "Puff Piece: Sherlock Holmes, Piping Hot". In the entry, the author said that this new Sherlock Holmes was "poised to do something that hasn’t been done since Hugh Hefner lounged on his rotating bed while puffing a Dunhill: Make pipes cool."

I remember being offended when I first read those last three words. In my head, pipes were already cool and they still are. But the word "cool" here is meant differently and, with that new definition, the author is quite correct. Robert Downey, Jr. does make pipes cool with the way that he plays Sherlock Holmes.

His Holmes is different from most other portrayals. While the majority of versions have acknowledged the eccentricities of Holmes, this newer Holmes seems to emphasize the dichotomies inherent within the character.

One of the best ways that I have heard this Holmes described is as a combination between Indiana Jones and James Bond, if Bond were to do all of his own inventing instead of leaving that to Q. This Holmes is suave, yet uncouth; he is stylish, but often disheveled, often wearing a three-piece suit, while sporting a 5 o’clock shadow and a napkin tucked into his shirt; he is logical and intelligent, but not afraid to get down-and-dirty, getting into bone-crunching, knuckle-cracking, mano y mano fights; he is systematic, yet is prone to drunkenly experimenting with explosives and poisons.

This is the type of "cool" that Downey, Jr.’s Holmes brings to pipes that has never really been seen before. Other incarnations gave pipes the titles "contemplative" and "smart" and "thoughtful", but not cool. Not this type of cool.

Allow me to say that there is nothing wrong about the notion that pipes are signs of mental agility. In fact, it is sometimes quite nice to be told that I look professorial when smoking a pipe.

The problem arises when people think that this is all that pipes represent.

Many of us know someone who does not necessarily fit this stereotype, or, at minimum, embody a different image even better. Some of these people smoke their pipes while doing intense physical labor or while plowing their fields; some are known for their sex-appeal (such as Hugh) and some for their physical prowess, such as Babe Ruth and Neil Armstrong.

These members of the pipe community have been woefully neglected, discarded in favor of the easy stereotype formed by the early Sherlock Holmes. While a mentally pleasing stereotype, it represents just one part of the culture.

This is something that the new Sherlock Holmes can potentially remedy. Not only do these films have the potential to spark more interest in pipes, but also to reshape the image of pipe-smokers. Yes, we are intellectuals, but we are also cool, rough, and eclectic.

So, the next time a chain gun is aiming its barrels at you, smoke a pipe! After hiding behind something, perhaps.

Ethan Brandt is a senior at Washington University in St. Louis, majoring in Religious Studies and English with a Pre-Law focus. He picked up his first pipe his Freshman year in college and never looked back. Recently, he has start up a pipe-focused blog called Pipe School.

By Fred Brown
The irony is palpable.

It is a well-known fact, of course, that Sherlock Holmes smoked. Oh, did he ever smoke. In Doyle’s stories, cigarettes were part and parcel of his character, and even though he is most often seen wearing a deerstalker hat and puffing on a calabash pipe, Doyle never put the curved gourd in the detective’s hand or between his lips.

Holmes’ foil and sidekick, Dr. Watson, was a cigar and pipe smoker, while the detective preferred "oily clay pipes" and shag tobacco, the stronger the better. Holmes was known to smoke a variety of pipes, including a cherry wood and even churchwardens.

Doyle’s tobacco favorites, however, are a little more difficult to pin down. There is no doubt that he smoked, and liked his cigar as well as his pipe. But a couple of recent biographies leave a lot to be desired when it comes to finding out just what kind of tobacco and what sort of pipe the venerable doctor and famous author enjoyed.

Some writers have posited that if you know Holmes, then you know Doyle. While that might be 90 percent accurate, it does not fill in all of the gaps about Doyle’s smoking preferences.

Doyle was knighted, not for his Holmesian stories, but for his writing about the Boer War of 1899 in which he served as both physician and war correspondent. History shows that he enjoyed both cigars and pipes, but discovering brands and shapes is not easily done.

Perhaps the good doctor wanted to leave at least one mystery unsolved.

Stage actors and filmmakers are responsible for the image most often seen of Holmes—thoughtfully deducing some crucial clue, a curl of tobacco smoke rising from gourd calabash beneath the deerstalker hat.

Basil Rathbone is the actor who brought Holmes to life on the big screen in the 1930s and ’40s. More modern versions don’t measure up, especially the latest two films from British director and screenwriter Guy Ritchie: Sherlock Holmes and Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, starring Robert Downey Jr., as Sherlock Holmes, and Jude Law, as Dr. John Watson.

The Ritchie/Downey production is more slam-bang/super slo-mo than super sleuthing. Rathbone is safe for the moment.

All this is to assume that Doyle the physician/author was the alter ego of Holmes the detective. This assumption, too, takes a bit of deducing.

Holmes was actually fashioned from one of Doyle’s professors at the medical college at Edinburgh, Scotland. Dr. Joseph Bell was not only an eminent surgeon and teacher, but he possessed also amazing powers of observation. He taught his students that doctors had to be great diagnosticians as well as healers. They did this by being observant and deducing results from facts.

It is also obvious that Holmes was also made up of parts of Doyle himself. They both smoked a pipe, of course. But, there are other similarities: they both boxed, were tall, energetic, strong, untidy, and collected scraps of notes. Both spoke French and German and enjoyed a good joke.

So, then, Doyle was Holmes and Holmes was Doyle. If that is the case, my Dear Watson, then it can be assumed that Dr. Doyle enjoyed strong shag cut tobacco, which he smoked in a variety of pipes.

Photos of Doyle show him with a bent billiard, perhaps, a straight billiard and many other styles that are not discernable. But it is imminently clear that he indeed smoked a pipe.

What is also clear is that Arthur Conan Doyle was a prolific writer, smart if not brilliant.

He was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, May 22, 1859, although his family was Irish and Catholic. His father, Charles, like his father and brothers, was a talented artist, but with major flaws.

Charles’ father, John Doyle, had been one of the great satirical political caricaturists of a generation. His weekly cartoons became widely circulated and celebrated. John Doyle traveled in such social circles with Queen Victoria, Sir Walter Scott, William Thackeray and even Charles Dickens.

John Doyle’s sons also became famous artists, but Charles was not in the same league as his brothers, who went on to establish big reputations.

In an effort to break away from the shadow of his brothers at the age of 17, Charles Doyle moved to Edinburgh. He found work in a government post, possibly through the reputation of his father, and began to sketch. He later married Mary Foley, a fairly well educated young woman for the Victorian age.

By the time Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle was born,Charles was already slipping mentally, relying heavily on alcohol to get through a day. The family was actually living in poverty in a city known for its dark and evil shadows for the poor.

Mary worked hard to provide for her children and made certain they acquired good educations. The brightest of the nine children was Arthur, upon whom she especially doted, since he was her first son. Throughout life, Doyle was equally devoted to his mother, and wrote volumes of letters to her almost daily.

Mary passed on her love of Celtic storytelling and reading to her son. Like his mother, Arthur devoured books and relished his mother’s stories, which bloomed and flourished in his imagination.

With the help of his mother, family and others, Doyle finished Jesuit schools and then headed off to the University of Edinburg’s Medical School, one of the best in the world then and now. He entered in 1876 and graduated in 1881.

The threat of poverty hung over the family like a black cloud. Charles Doyle was never much of a provider, drinking up most of the family’s income. Eventually, he had to be institutionalized.

After medical school, Arthur Conan Doyle hung out a shingle and began writing in earnest. By 1886, he had penned the novel A Study in Scarlet in which he introduced a detective by the name of Sherlock Holmes.

Also by this time, Doyle had been heavily influenced by the stories of Edgar Allen Poe, especially The Gold Bug and The Murders in the Rue Morgue.

In fact, Doyle once said that he owed a great deal to Poe and suggested that Poe had created the greatest detective in literature (a claim sure to be disputed by Doyle’s now global legions of fans, as well as those who consider Holmes sacrosanct).

But one point Doyle wrote is no doubt true: Poe, he said, made the detective story work as literature.

Like his famous detective, Doyle was more than the sum of his parts. He was an adventurer and world traveler. He once served aboard a whaler as the ship’s doctor. A social crusader in later life, supporting the downtrodden and women’s emancipation, he also became very wealthy. He was asked to endorse products, which he refused to do, but the image of Sherlock Holmes was found on many commercial goods, including tobacco, as today.

Doyle also tried his hand at writing plays for the theater, some of which enjoyed mild success. Some of this theatrical output was based upon his own books.

Prior to the outbreak of World War I, Doyle was also writing short fiction, some of which bordered on fantasy, horror, the supernatural and science fiction.

When war broke out between Germany and Great Britain, Doyle, then 55 years old, wrote the British war department. One of the Empire’s most famous citizens wanted to enlist.

Although he was turned down, he insisted that although he had not practiced medicine for quite some time, he could work on the battlefield, tending the wounded.

That suggestion, too, was denied. Presumably, the British Empire did not want its famous author obliterated in the trenches as soldier or surgeon.

Doyle then turned his immense imagination to helping the military department solve problems. He invented a kind of fork device to put on the front of naval warships to explode underwater mines before they hit the ship. He also invented an inflatable rubber belt that would keep sailors afloat in the sea. Inflatable life vests were created, thanks to Doyle.

When not attempting to invent some sort of military safety device, Doyle wrote propaganda for his country, in pamphlets in addition to making public speeches for the war effort and social injustices.

After the war, Doyle wrote a six-volume history of the conflict, The British Campaign in France and Flanders.

During this post-war period, he entered in earnest a phase of his life that defined him up to the end. He became a spiritualist, believing that the human personality did not end in death, that there was a being on the other side that survived death.

He also came to believe in fairies, and claimed that there was a human existence beyond death that paralleled the physical world. He also believed that that world could be reached through communication.

Doyle wrote and toured widely espousing his beliefs in spiritualism, coming to America several times to speak on the subject. Upon each occasion, American journalists penned fantastical stories about the admired author, which produced even wilder headlines.

It was Doyle’s faith in winged fairies that began to erode his enormous reputation, and even relegate him to "kook" status by many in the public.

But Holmes fans never wavered in their loyalty to the great writer, and remain faithful today. Thus, Sherlock Holmes remains the greatest detective in literary history. There are Sherlock Holmes Societies across the globe and even today, the mastermind of deduction continues to grab new converts and readers.

In all, Doyle wrote 60 stories about Sherlock Holmes. That is not anywhere close to his total output of short stories, essays, histories, novels, journalism, volumes of letters and other documents, in addition to stacks of notebooks and diaries.

The Holmes stories have been translated into every written language on the planet. In fact, some Holmes societies view the great detective as real flesh and blood.

Doyle could write anywhere, and often did, breaking off in mid-sentence to enter conversation going on around him, and then return as if he had been concentrating all the while on pen and paper.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was an extraordinary man, just as his detective Sherlock Holmes was an amazing literary figure who bloomed larger than life, even to the point of overshadowing his creator.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle died July 7, 1930. He was 71 years old.

Related Article: The Great Detective and His Pipes: By Russ Ouellette

Fred Brown is a Retired Senior writer for the Knoxville News Sentinel and was a working journalist for 46 years before retiring in 2008. He lives in Knoxville, TN., where he continues to freelance.

By E. Roberts

The blend is identical, with one small exception. The plug is constructed with a core of brights, and the darker tobaccos surrounding it. This allows the brights, theoretically, to express themselves with more purity in the blend. They’re not under as great an influence from the fire-cured and red tobaccos. Doing this with the [Ready Rubbed] wouldn’t work well, because of the way the tobacco clumps, so the blocks are not stratified in this way. The same tobaccos in the same measures are just layered and pressed for the same length of time, then the blocks are sliced and tumbled. It’s the same technique used for the Old London mixtures.

Tin: The sweet top note of the Virginia is in perfect balance with the leathery earthiness of the Kentucky leaf upon opening the tin. A rich, ripe fruit aroma—to this reviewer strongly reminiscent of canned pears—is perhaps more pronounced than with the plug form, which held back a muted sweetness of stewed prune and a more earthy, woody tin note. The two-millimeter thick ribbons also show a noticeably lighter overall color, displaying a lovely brindle in the tin. Considering that it began its life in nearly the same plug form, the cut is a perfectly tumbled flake for this blend, a process Greg revived from the annals of tobacciana for his Old London Series. It certainly allows the bright tobaccos plenty of room to assert themselves early in the blend, and carries delicate hints of cucumber, grass and honey.

Char: Certainly one of the great strengths of this presentation is that it is indeed ready to go, straight out of the tin, with minimal drying or preparation. It performs magnificently whether employing the Frank, the Bob, the vortex, or simply stuffed with the "geezer grab" method. As previously mentioned, the size of the cut is perfect to display the full character of the blend’s components. The first light announces the bright leaf, as is common with Virginias, and quickly develops to a full, round bouquet.

Top: Through the top of the bowl, Ready Rubbed shows itself perhaps a bit more integrated of flavor than the plug. The Virginia sweetness is quickly tempered by the Kentucky’s dark-fired nature as it releases some of its tannic character and woody notes. In the palate and room note one can find honey and lemon, lavender and fig, and aged apple cider, as well as the counterpoints of soy sauce and bell pepper, freshly cut oak, and roasting chestnut and pecan. There is also a certain dryness to it, not unlike a dry vermouth, which leaves the impression of old books and a wisp of wood glue in the aroma.

Mid: In the mid-bowl, the meaty character at the core of this blend really develops. The smoky Kentucky leaf here is the star, with ample support from the smooth red Virginia to fully express the deeper complexion of the mixture. It becomes indulgent and heady, with a voluminous accompaniment of vapors with which to practice one’s technique for blowing smoke rings. This is perhaps the most Balkan of non-English blends; that is to say that the overall flavor profile is very much akin to a strong English mixture, though obviously without the constituents of Latakia or Orientals. Greg’s professed love of the dark leaf plays well here, and he manages to convey all the best flavor profiles of the Oriental blends in this decidedly New World concoction. The Kentucky burley provides the perfect heavy smokiness and body, while the red Virginia balances and shades it with vegetal sweetness. The thick, buttery flavors are very stout, with prominent notes of oak and cedar, black pepper, well-done steak and even potatoes, always accentuating, never competing.

Finish: Ready Rubbed is as creamy and hearty a smoke as its antecedent, to be sure. Managed with few relights, it burns through to a fine ash and a generous nicotine buzz, not to mention a room-filling swath of its pungent haze. Among the departing notes, a buttery chocolate and walnut are prevalent, as well as more of a salted, meaty tang. One point worth mentioning is that the full-bodied nature of this tobacco is evident both on the palate and the instrument, for it leaves the tongue glazed with a most pleasant treacle, as well as coating a pipe from stem to stern with its oily residue. Repeated portions in the same pipe will demand a periodic run-through with a pipe cleaner, and perhaps would elect this as an excellent non-aromatic choice for coloring meerschaums.

Room Note: The room note with this is certainly reserved for tobacco lovers. It is as heady and piquant for the smoker as to those within several meters, of the same strength as a cigar or a Latakia-forward blend.

Overall: The JackKnives Plug and Ready Rubbed are certainly landmark blends, not just for Mr. Pease’s oeuvre, but for artisanal blending in general. Like all of Greg’s offerings, they are made with aging in mind, and it is with some time, perhaps a great deal of it, that a more pronounced difference in flavor will exhibit. With just a year on the first tins of JK Plug now, there is a wonderful marbling of sugar crystals and a silky smoothness developing that really displays the strengths of the Virginias. It will be a welcome discovery to see and taste the divergence of these twins in coming years.

RATING:
To borrow a page from the rating of wine and cigars, this review will employ a 100-point scale to quantify this blend. However, it should be noted that by involving all these numbers it is in no way meant to detract from what is a very personal sensory experience; rather it is to more finely shade comparative strengths.

Of 15 points available for presentation, JKRR is a solid 14. While GLP’s tin art has always hit the mark with its simplicity of line and color, it loses a point for using the same photo as the plug version. The tobacco itself, however, is in perfect pitch with its size, cut and color. The tumbled ribbon could not be more appropriately applied here, and the tin aroma speaks well of the quality of the leaf.

Of 35 points allocated to the draw and burn, Ready Rubbed has a decided hand over Plug with 32. As stated before, it is very true to its name, and couldn’t be easier to load and go with a minimum of fuss. The plug presentation is not to be denigrated, of course, in that it offers such a variety of ways to be sliced, not to mention the tactile interaction of the ritual; what is lost with the plug, though, is gained with the facility of the newer version, which in general requires fewer relights and, obviously, far less preparation.

For flavor and aroma, it was difficult to settle on a score of 47 out of 50 points. A deceptively simple blend, JackKnife does so much with the flavors and delivers them in such adroit measure that it ultimately deserved a near-perfect score. This is a concoction for lovers of pure, strong tobacco taste, and the prospect of it aging magnificently is surely figured into this score. While not overly complex, this is actually where its strength lies—it does what it does exceedingly well, and never loses interest or flavor.

The final tally of 93 equates with a solid 4½ stars out of five, and if pressed could be simply rounded up to a full five—a must-have for any cellar.

Brand: G.L. Pease
Blend: JackKnife Ready Rubbed
Blender: Gregory L. Pease
Type: Virginia / Burley Country: USA
Cut: Tumbled Ribbon
Cure: Flue- & Fire-cured Tobaccos: Kentucky, Virginia
Strength: Strong
Room Note: Quite strong
Tin Size: 2 oz.
Tin Age: New—under 6 months
Tin Description: Dark-fired Kentucky leaf and ripe red Virginia tobaccos, with their deep, earthy flavors, are layered on a central core of golden flue-cured for a hint of bright sweetness, then pressed and matured in cakes before being sliced and tumbled to a ribbon form, ready for your smoking enjoyment.

JackKnife Ready Rubbed - Click Here to Order Now!

JackKnife Ready Rubbed - Click Here to Order Now!

G. L. Pease
As I sit down to compile this month’s column,

Photo © 2012 G.L. Pease. Used with permission.

So, with that in mind, I’ve chosen a couple of questions that concern the process of blending to begin this month’s issue, with the hopes that it will be of broader interest, and it doesn’t just end up reading like some sort of vanity post. Lord knows, there’s enough of that to go round.

Without further ado, here we go.

Darren writes: When you are creating a blend, do you account for the smoke from the combusted tobacco affecting the flavor of the unburnt tobacco in the bowl? Does it even matter? I was thinking about this the other day as I was smoking a salmon fillet. I like fruitwoods for smoking salmon as opposed to hickory or mesquite. You can really tell the difference in the end product. I’m just wondering if the smoke from combusted tobacco has as much of an effect on the overall flavor as your progress through a bowl. Hmmm… maybe your next blend should be called "Old Hickory" and you could put a couple of hunks of wood in it.

A: You were smoking a salmon fillet? I imagine that was a little hard to keep lit…Okay, okay. I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waiter.

It’s an interesting question, and a difficult one to answer completely. The aroma of the smoke does make a contribution to the overall experience of smoking a blend, and when that smoke is drawn through the unburned tobacco, it certainly influences the flavor. There are several things finding their way into the smoke stream, and all of them are important to the final enjoyment. The smoke from the burned tobacco carries some interesting aromatic components with it, as it passes through the tobacco on its way to the smoker’s tongue. The warm water vapor (always present as a byproduct of combustion, even if the tobacco itself is quite dry) brings with it some sweetness and other soluble flavors, and some of the more volatile components in the unburned tobacco are activated by greater temperature, and also enter the mix. Next time you fill your pipe, draw through it several times, and see what you taste. Then, see how much different it is with just a little charring, and then the final lighting. While smoking, puff out just a bit, and then draw the smoke back through the bowl. It’s actually quite remarkable how much difference there can be in the smoke by simply varying technique a little.

Smoked meats are similar to fire cured tobaccos, like Latakia, in that the smoke particles are deposited on and penetrate the surface of the product, and the warm smoke itself, though it isn’t part of the eating experience, leaves behind its distinctive signature. When the tobacco is burned, those particles are both liberated in the smoke, and also carried through the stream by volatilization. Though there are no actual wood chunks in tobaccos, at least there shouldn’t be, there’s no shortage of wood smoke in those that contain Latakia or Kentucky dark-fired. (More on that delicious stuff further down the page.)So, yes, all these things are taken into consideration when putting a blend together. It’s part of the total package. And, I think I’ll pass on the idea of wood chips in the blend.

Gregg wonders: I am curious how do blenders maintain consistency in their blends? I assume crop yields and quality can vary year to year, not unlike grapes for wine. I hope this is not a trade secret.

A: This would have different answers, depending on who’s doing the answering, and how honest they want to be. Just as with wine, it’s possible to maintain consistency from year to year, through the use of leaf or grape selection and blending with the product of previous years. Some manufacturers maintain leaf stocks that span several years, so they can be combined to maintain a consistent product. If you’re not shooting for the highest absolute quality possible, this isn’t really that hard to do, and the big producers do it to prevent surprises.

Further, with heavily processed, highly flavored and aromatic tobaccos, it’s easy to adjust things by the application of sauces. It’s unlikely that anyone would be able to taste the difference crop variation might provide in blends that rely on augmentation for their character. In probably many cases, the tobaccos selected for use here are chosen for their blandness, their burning characteristics, and their ability to carry sauces, not for their varietal quality.

I work differently with my blends, both because we’re too tiny to store years worth of leaf practically, because we don’t rely on additives for our products, and because I really don’t want to eliminate vintage character, especially if it’s somehow distinctive or special. If I get a particularly good vintage of a particular leaf, I’d rather go ahead and use it, letting its character shine through, even knowing that the resulting blend will be slightly different from that of previous years. If I was making single source products, those differences would certainly be more noticeable, but even with a complex mixture of many different tobaccos, you can taste subtle changes from year to year. We do strive to ensure that each year’s is as good as it can be, and the consistency is actually surprisingly high, but there are always going to be differences resulting from crop variations, and that’s just a fact of life when you’re dealing with small batch production of anything that relies on agricultural resources. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Fabricio Viscardi asks: Greg, as a latakia lover, knowing that Syrian and Cyprus cousins have rather different personalities, my question would be if a blend containing both varieties blended with a good amount of quality virginias would make a good blend at all or it would be a rather waste of good smokiness and piquancy contents?

A: I’ve done several blends using both Syrian and Cypriot Latakia, virginias and orientals, and the results have been wonderful, showcasing the characteristics of both types of Latakia. The two types can really compliment each other if used in careful proportions. Generally, if using only virginias as a base, you have to be careful with the Latakia components to keep things in good balance, but when done with care, the results can be delicious.

From Stacen: Hi, I have seen quite a bit of commentary on this site and online regarding your new blend Triple Play. One of the things mentioned consistently is "Dark Fired Kentucky" as one of Triple Play’s constituent tobaccos. I don’t know much about this tobacco. Could you discuss it? One particular question I have is: Is it Kentucky leaf that has been "dark fired" (is dark firing a special curing process?) or is it Dark Kentucky leaf that has been "fired"? Thanks for providing this question and answer forum, it is much appreciated!

A: To do this question the justice it deserves would require a complete article, as the stuff has a long history and is quite fascinating in many ways. I’ve been meaning to write something more in-depth, and if there’s interest, I’ll turn the fires up under that project, so to speak.

Briefly, dark-fired is both dark and fire-cured. These tobaccos, casually referred to as "darks," begin life as a different cultivar from the regular burleys, and include the Green River and One-Sucker varieties. Roughly 90% of these darks are grown in a small region of south-western Kentucky and across the border in north-western Tennessee, with the rest coming from Virginia, and are brought to market either air- or fire-cured.

Fire-cured darks are stalk harvested and air dried until the desired level of yellowing occurs, usually for between five and eight days, before controlled fires are built from hardwoods and sawdust. The yellowed leaf is locked away in the smoking barns to be fumigated, through as many as three distinct firings, until the desired level of color is set, the correct moisture content is achieved, and the right amount of smokiness is produced. The production is a delicate balance of art and science, as there are a lot of variables to consider during the process, such as maintaining correct humidity and temperature, and just the right smoke levels.

The finished result is a strong, dark, slightly sweet and smoky, with a distinctive tobacco, with an almost floral character. Dark-fired is not as pungent as its sun-dried, fire-cured cousin, Latakia, but it is much stronger, in general. Much of the world’s production finds its way to snuff, chewing tobacco and dry cured cigars, though it’s always been an important component in some traditional UK pipe tobaccos. There’s quite a bit more to the picture, but I hope this little thumbnail offers some insight.

Not really a Q&A, here, but several people have written in regarding the strength of some tobaccos, the gist being that there are blends that really sneak up on you, like an iron fist in a velvet glove, and much stronger than expected.

I can certainly relate! The first bowl of the original Craven Mixture I ever smoked, I recall it being in 1984, offered up a frightening tale to tell. I was heading home from the Saturday afternoon pipe gathering at Drucquer’s, smoking a bowl of this deceptively potent stuff, quite contentedly, as I drove. Craven, by the way, was the blend reputed to have inspired Barrie’s My Lady Nicotine, and after my first experience with it, I could well imagine the delirium that a regular diet of the stuff must have provided the book’s protagonist. Yes, it was delicious, and this sample was very nicely aged; a rich, full flavored, lovely blend, but one that was very deceptive in its strength. I drove. I smoked. I fully enjoyed the experience. I had no idea what fate would befall me next.

I made it home just before the full effect took hold. As I was getting out of the car, I noticed my nose was sweating. "That’s odd," I thought. Minutes later, it was the E-ticket ride on the Orleans Orbiter. (For those who have never experienced it, the Orleans Orbiter is one of the most sadistic of what I have come to refer to as the "Whirl-and-Hurl Machines" ever to haunt an amusement park. I made the mistake of getting on one once, and spent the rest of the day curled up in a fetal position in the back seat of my friend’s Buick. It ruined not only the rest of my day, but most of the following one, as well. I cannot even imagine spinning in more dimensions at one time, and even the thought of the thing turns my stomach.)

I’ll spare the gruesome details, but suffice to say that all I could do was walk around, attempting to breathe deeply. Lying down was a very bad idea, as it just increased both the magnitude and the velocity of the room’s polydimensional spinning. Ghastly memory. It took several hours before I started to get back to normal, and I didn’t have much interest in pipes for a few days after that. The tobacco didn’t seem that strong when I was smoking it, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. The moral of my cautionary tale is to treat any new tobacco you try with respect, or it might hurt you.

Getting back to Kevin (there sure are a lot of Kevins out there), whose question from last month I didn’t really mean to dismiss, but ended up doing so anyway. (Blame it on the pressures of a deadline when our fearless leader is breathing down my neck, figuratively, calling me every ten minutes to find out where my column is, or maybe just forgetfulness, or a lack of caffeine, or those pesky gamma rays…)

Anyway, he asked: It seems natural that tobacco would change during the course of a bowl since by time you get to the bottom, more smoke has passed through unsmoked leaf, but why do some blends change so much more dramatically than others?

A: As with so many things concerning our deceptively simple pastime, there’s a lot more to this than we’d initially suspect. As we smoke our pipes, myriad byproducts of combustion are essentially being filtered through the tobacco below the ember. Depending on how we smoke, what we smoke, the relative humidity, the pipe’s willingness or reluctance to cling to moisture, the cadence of our smoking, and many other factors, some of those byproducts will get through the "filter," some will condensate towards the heel of the bowl, or in the shank, and others will stick to the leaf to be combusted again, or volatilized when the warmth of the ember reaches them. Since the filtering action of the tobacco becomes less efficient as the bowl progresses, both because it’s becoming saturated with these byproducts at an ever increasing rate, and because as the leaf is consumed, there’s just less of it there, the smoke’s taste tends to get stronger as the bowl progresses.

Because of these mechanisms, blends with more volatile oils in their overall makeup, especially those containing high percentages of oriental varieties or latakia, and to a lesser extent, some burleys, will tend to intensify more than blends that are dominated by most virginias, though there are some types that are quite oily, and these, too, build up greater intensity during the course of the bowl.

Last month, I wrote briefly in response to a question on Navy Flake. In response to my admittedly naive view of the subject, a wonderful description came in from a new correspondent, Myles, who was able to find the following fascinating passage in W.A. Penn’s The Soverane Herbe: A History of Tobacco (p127), published 1901. Thanks, Myles, for sharing this with me and with our readers.

Little of the popular navy-cut is now prepared after the nautical manner. The generality of it is marine only in name, being pressed and cut like ordinary flake tobacco. For true naval tobacco one must make a raid on the Royal Navy. The Admiralty serves out tobacco-leaf to Jack at a charge of is. a pound, this leaf being duty-free. (No duty is exacted on tobacco consumed out of England ; before sailing, captains of merchant ships requisition from the Customs tobacco free of duty for consumption on the voyage.) The bluejacket of the Royal Navy buys tobacco in leaf from the ship’s stores. He damps the leaves—old hands use rum to strengthen and flavour—and lays them neatly lengthwise, one on top of another. This bundle he rolls up into the shape of a cigar, thick in the middle and tapering at the ends with the leaf Covered with canvas, the roll is tightly secured with thick cord, neatly and tautly wound round from end to end. In three weeks or so the leaf is welded into a solid, torpedo-shaped plug, which is cut into small, square slices and rubbed up for the pipe.

This is true navy-cut. But scarcely any of the tobacco sold as such is so prepared, being pressed and cut like ordinary flake tobacco. Originally all tobacco was prepared, like true navy-cut, by hand; in the not remote past each smoker carried his plug of tobacco about with him, and cut it up as the occasion and his pipe demanded.

From a strictly chronological point of view this account of the manufacture of tobacco should have commenced with cake tobacco. The herb smoked by Elizabethan worthies was ‘ pudding,’ ‘ roll,’ and ‘ twist.’ These hard tobaccos are the forms in which ‘ the weed of glorious feature ‘ was originally prepared. They were compact and convenient for carrying about, the smoker slicing off a pipeful as required, and equally suitable for chewing and smoking. The plug known as carotte in the seven- teenth century was a roll, about lo inches long and 3 inches thick, sweetened with treacle. It was for such a roll of Virginia that Sir Roger de Coverley called at a tobacconist’s on his way to Westminster Abbey.

That’s it for this month. I hope you’ve enjoyed your time here, and keep the great questions coming!

-glp

SUBMIT QUESTIONS HERE

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. See our interview with G. L. Pease here.

By Tom Spithaler

Doing a review on a new pipe may well seem to be the simplest thing that any pipe enthusiast might do. Looks cool, feels good, stem fits, finish is shiny, A-OK, let’s fire it up! But truth be known, it is rather a daunting task, and I do not take it lightly.

First impressions tend to stick with people. When dealing with pipes and the people who craft them, this natural reaction is no different. My first introduction to Mr. Cooper of Pipes and Pouch came from Kevin Godbee ofPipesMagazine.com. Mr. Craig Cooper is a pipecrafter who for over 30 years has been making his home and his pipes in Colorado. He has an unquestioned reputation as being a premier domestic manufacturer of some of the finest handcrafted pipes available. We exchanged email pleasantries and he agreed to send a pipe for review.

Few things (perhaps sadly for me…) are as exciting as getting a new pipe. I have had this particular sample for about two months now, and yet every time I remove it from its deep purple velvet draw-string sock, I am still as excited as I was the day the box arrived in the post.

My pleasures in pipes are simple, not extravagant. But the finer things of ’simple’ are what impress me. This particular example supplied by Mr. Cooper has filled every point of my pleasures in a pipe with simplicity and attention to detail alike. Suffice it to say, I found it very pleasant to the eye, a pleasure to hold, and a quality example of pipecrafting.

My initial visual response was one of excitement. Immediately I like the overall shape and color of the pipe. It is flat-out visually striking. The color combinations while narrow and subtle in their variations were nonetheless stunning. Medium to dark brown hues on the briar give way to a deep honest and hearty shade of red reminiscent of a warm brick hearth when exposed to bright light. The stain work over the rustication has varying opacity levels, and provides a perfect accent to the natural shade and grains on the Algerian briar.

Immediately identifiable as acrylic, the stem on this pipe is marbled and layered in colors from cream and light tan, to dark brown that blends into nearly black. The contrasts are immediately apparent, not only between the colors within the stem itself, but between the stem and the briar. While centering on a burnt-umber like palette, these perfectly matching shades blend a handful of earthy tones with amazing perfection.

Opinionated as any review might be, the stem on this pipe is just fantastic. It is artistic and adds flare, but yet holds eye-catching and cuttingly traditional lines. It says, "Hey, I’m the new guy in town - look at me". I do not hold a preference in a favorite type of stem material, but I’m of the opinion that little or nothing would look better fitted to this pipe than what Mr. Cooper has chosen. If a fine German ebonite is a ‘tuxedo’ to a pipe, this acrylic stem is a finely tailored suit, but worn with the tie pulled low and the top two buttons of the white shirt opened. In other words, this pipe would fit in just as well in a formal setting alongside the most respected pipe designs out there, as it would in a humble cabin setting gently rocking in the hands of grandpa in front of the fire.

The overall shape of the pipe is that of a bent Rhodesian. The bowl being of medium height and not too stout, has what seems to be a perfectly symmetrical shape both horizontally and vertically (discounting the hand rustication of course). After speaking to Mr. Cooper and knowing that this bowl is primarily handcrafted, the results show a machine-like level of expertise in production.

A slight grooved ring wraps the bowl just above the apex of its girth and adds a sharp, smooth and dimensional line that absolutely attracts the eye, but does not detract from the over-all appeal of the pipe, or in any way seem out of place on this Rhodesian.

In addition to the aesthetic value of the recessed ring and the distinction it adds to the body of the pipe like that of a fine hand painted pin-stripe job on a classic car, I found it to have a very practical purpose as well. That groove gives me a point of referenced on the bowl. It allows the handler to sense that unique position on the pipe to add a feel of muscle memory while holding it. That groove places a feel across the palm, and fingers that tells you without looking exactly where the pipe is in your hands. This comes in handy in the dark fall and winter evenings when you might be out on the back porch for a late night smoke.

I mentioned early on about the character of Mr. Cooper. Here is a man whose livelihood is derived from crafting pipes, quite honestly, high quality pipes. These pipes, each a work of art in and of itself, are imbedded with the blood, sweat and tears, scraped knuckles and cut fingers of Craig Cooper. And yet, when asked about how he produced this unique style of rustication, he not only revealed how he accomplished the feat, but agreed to send me images of his tooling that I could use in this review.

Perhaps you have been a long time pipe enthusiast and have not had the pleasure to meet many of the pipe crafters themselves. If you had, you would quickly realize that this is not always the norm. Pipe crafters hold things like staining and polishing styles, blasting and rustication techniques pretty close to the vest, and rightfully so. These are the features that tend to make pipes unique and identifiable to their maker or brand. For many, these techniques are easily noticeable and become the ‘calling card’ if you will of that crafter. Sharing ‘WHAT’ you do with the public is why you are in the business. You want to share your love of pipes and briar and your artistic styling expressed in the finished product. Sharing ‘HOW’ you do what you do, is rare. A willingness to share personal styling secrets not only speaks volumes for Mr. Cooper’s character, but shows a man putting the love of his craft and the betterment of the industry above personal gain or ego. Mr. Cooper’s detailed description of the methods of rustication on this pipe defines a man confident in what he is doing, and yet at the same time, genteel enough to put the advancement of the industry and the education of the consumer ahead of anything that might get in the way.

All the rustication is done by hand on this pipe. No machines, no hammer devices. It is just simply old-fashioned hand technique that allows Mr. Cooper to get the look exactly the way he wants it to. Not too much, not too little. Not to heavy, not too light. Using a tool he made himself using tools he already had lying around the shop. In his own words, Mr. Cooper describes his rustication tool as "nothing more than HSS drill bits, the chuck end ground to a point, then epoxied into the end of a file handle". Using it is explained with equal simplicity, "Just twist and gouge the surface of the pipe until you’re satisfied with the results. Pretty basic." Humble remarks that when applied through his skilled hands produce the likes of what you see in this Rhodesian. Speaking specifically about this example, he states, "(I) …developed my own style of ‘gouging’ the briar. I sand the rough spots, stain, and then hand brush a thin coat of shellac to produce a shiny finish. Shellac is alcohol based, so it dries with no odor. It also doesn’t seal the wood, so the briar can still breathe."

The pipe is a joy to hold and smoke. The draw is as smooth as any pipe I have ever smoked, and cool even with some dryer aromatics that I like to keep on hand. Presenting smoke softly to the tongue, and being light in the hand this bent Rhodesian felt like a hug from an old friend. There is not a rough edge to be found on this pipe. The tenon/mortise fit on this pipe tight, but no to the point where the acrylic stem makes any noise at all when inserted in the mortise. The acrylic is nearly perfectly formed, and the bit slips into your mouth as smoothly as anything. Not too heavy to hold in the mouth when necessary (weighs just over 50 grams), comfortable and inviting - I really like this pipe.

As with any new pipe you have to understand that there will be a break in process, but I noticed almost immediately that quality of the tobacco coming through with more intensity than it does in some of my seasoned pipes. Is this a product of the smoothness of the bowl and the quality of the airway and all its fittings? I cannot say for sure, but this Rhodesian is in danger of causing me to set aside a Hilson ¼ bent Canadian that has been a favorite of mine for some time. I enjoyed a bowl of The Tinder Box’s Norse Gold for what was easily 20 minutes, but feel like I may have to relegate this to a Columbian Mocha blend that seems like was meant for this Cooper piece.

Learning styles, techniques and the mechanics from men like Mr. Paul Perri of So-Cal, and the well known Tim West, Mr. Cooper says he has no real "secrets" to his craft. Confident that his style has evolved over the years, he now characterizes it by what he modestly calls ‘artistry’.

I’d completely agree. This work is art.

All Pipe Photo Credits: Tom Spithaler. Craig Cooper Photo: Kevin Godbee © 2012 PipesMagazine.com