Ask G. L. Pease (Volume 43)
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Kevin Godbee - Dec 19, 2014
- 11 min read
G. L. Pease
This time of year, I find myself feeling a little sorry for those who live in other parts of the country. It has nothing to do with the weather, though I suppose that might be reason enough, but everything to do with the opening of the season for that magnificent regional delicacy, the Dungeness crab. Don’t take me wrong. Other crabs are delicious too, and of course, easterners have their lobsters, but the Dungeness crab is special. Its meat is firm, sweet, delicious, and the things are brawny enough to offer a more tangible reward for the not insignificant effort of divesting them of their hard, sharp shells.
Nothing is better on an early winter’s day than playing tourist, and buying a couple of these delectable crustaceans from the crab mongers along Fisherman’s Wharf who boil them in giant pots, crack their shells with a mallet, and bundle them up in butcher paper. Add a loaf of crusty Boudin sourdough, which also cannot be found anywhere else, a stick of butter, a bottle of crisp, unoaked Chardonnay, and a beach towel (eating crab can be messy business), and you’ve got everything you need for a fabulous movable feast, unique to the left coast. If it’s not raining, find a quiet place and tuck in. You can have a salad later, if you must. I know what I’m doing this weekend…
On to the Q&A.
From Eric C.: I started smoking a pipe in 2005 and quickly discovered your Briar & Leaf Chronicles, which around that time came thick and fast. When the pace of that slowed down, I discovered the old alt.smokers.pipes archives and began to dig through that. In addition to gaining a wealth of knowledge, I’ve made friends, in a manner of speaking, by reading posts of folks like Paul Szabady, Irwin Friedman, Mark Tinsky circa 1997-2001. Of course you’re all over that period there. That seemed like a really interesting time in the tobacco world: Three Nuns still had perique, Esoterica was all the rage, there were mail order estate pipe catalogues, Dunhill still ostensibly gave a damn about tobacco. Etc. And anyway, early on in that timeframe was the brief existence of the Friedman & Pease tobacco company.
This garden path introduction finally leads to my question: could you provide us with a short history of Friedman & Pease? I’m more interested in the genesis of it than the breakup. I’m also interested in which blends there eventually became in some fashion part of the GL Pease line. Aleister likely was behind Haddo’s, perhaps Fez was behind Cairo, Silk Road pretty obviously became Samarra. This seems like an interesting chapter in modern pipe tobacco history that hasn’t really been talked about much, and you’re the only one of the two who can tell it with a Q&A column.
A: It’s a bit of a distant blur, but I’ll try to recreate a little history, or at least make something up that sounds good. It’ll be fun, at least for me. Your observations, by the way, are astute. You got the evolution of those three spot on!
So, in 1998, I was on temporary disability after developing the dreaded Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS) from too many years of too many hours behind the keys in the mad world of computer science. My doctor presented me with a lengthy list of the many things I was prohibited from doing, which included a lot of the stuff that made me happy. No fencing, no martial arts, no mountain biking, no guitar playing, minimal slicing and dicing in the kitchen, and above all, no keyboard or mouse work. I’ve never been the sort to sit about twiddling my thumbs, which was probably on the list anyway, so I had to figure out something to do with myself for the next eight to twelve weeks.
One day, I was on the phone with Irwin, who was lamenting yet one more of the great old tobaccos that had gone the way of all mortality, disappearing from the market forever. In an instant, I recalled the pleasures of working with tobaccos during my time at Drucquer & Sons, and mentally checked the doc’s damnable list. I didn’t recall any mention of tobacco blending as being taboo…
"Let’s start a new brand!" I could see the product in my mind’s eye – the label design, rows of tins on tobacconists’ shelves, happy pipers puffing away on blends that I would develop. That was it. A moment of impetuousness, and it had to be done. Then came phone calls, research, finding suppliers that would sell to a couple of upstarts with a silly idea. It took on a life of its own, really. Like an avalanche. It’s all I thought about. Nothing would stop it.
Within a week or so, my kitchen was filled with bags of blending leaf and big plastic tubs. My cutting board was adapted to hold the newly purchased tinning machine, a hand-operated model that took 21 turns of the crank to seal the tin. Figuring that even though it wasn’t on the doctor’s list, turning a crank 21 times for every tin probably qualified as repetitive motion, so I adapted it to modest automation using an electric drill and a little ingenuity. I resurrected some of my old blending experiments from years before, and the first new creation was Silk Road, based loosely on a blend I’d done for Drucquer’s called Sublime Porte, and which later evolved into Samarra.
Then came Aleister. I’d read somewhere that Aleister Crowley smoked straight perique soaked in rum. I tried it. After recovering from the ensuing delirium, and weed-eating the newly grown carpet of hair off my chest, I recognized that there was something there, if I could tame the beast. Working with burleys, virginias, and a bit of unflavored black cavendish, I developed a unique and, I think, really delicious mixture, and named it after its source of inspiration. I think Oasis was next, a lighter style latakia mixture.
I went to work with a borrowed Mac and an early version of Illustrator designing the labels, found a printer who would do short runs, ordered cartons of tins, pull-tops, plastic overcaps and glue sticks. Within a few weeks, it looked like there might be a real product. Irwin went out to solicit sales from local tobacconists who were all eager to help get things started. We sold just under 100 tins the first month.
Over the next 18 months came Fez, Fool’s Cap, Templar, Inverness, a few others, and ultimately, Winter’s Tale, a limited edition mixture of house-made (literally) black virginia, latakia, and a bit of perique. In 1998, I did about 250 tins of it for November release. In 1999, it was a whopping 800. During that time, the brand enjoyed some small success, but I never saw a penny from the efforts, and knew changes had to be made. As is so often the case with business relationships, the partner and I didn’t ultimately see eye-to-eye on the way things should go, so I made the decision to dissolve the company. As part of the dissolution settlement (sounds like a divorce, yes?), I agreed not to use the formulae I’d developed, or the names, so I had to start fresh, using a few of the old blends as inspiration for new ones. I used the opportunity to make some improvements, using better leaf that I now had access to, and the experience the previous 18 months had offered.
In March of 2000, G.L. Pease was born with Cairo, Samarra, and, I believe, Renaissance which grew out of something I was working on during the F&P days. Haddo’s Delight was added later that year. After some wonderful and fruitful conversations with my dear friend Craig Tarler, a discussion that had started during the F&P days, I gradually moved manufacturing to C&D. The rest, as they say, is history. Needless to say, I never went back to the computer industry, and my CTS miraculously disappeared. It’s been a long, strange trip since those early and very humble beginnings; I don’t regret a second of it.
Marshall J. writes: I enjoyed your insights on the contribution of the shank to flavors and just read (and enjoyed) your comments on BoB about bowl passing gas(es and fluids).
Your experience with the inserting a SS tube in the shank is similar with my observations on smoking a Kirsten and Viking metal shank pipe. The smoke in these pipes is dry and cool but the flavor is muted compared with a brier. My opinion is that the shank contribution is good while fresh but can get overwhelmed after over use, what ever that is, and the pipe turns sour.
I have been curious about the resting time for a briar. I smelled the bowl each day after use. The odor was acrid in the beginning and after 3 days it had mellowed out to OK. BTW, Steven Books’s "Natural" blends have a much less acrid odor and the bowl recovers faster than 3 days. I am guessing that the shank takes more time to dry out etc and so most pipers wait for 7 days.
PS. I have tried to find a "blend" called "Old Chippewa Straight" that was sold by the Campus Smoke Shop at Bancroft and Telegraph about 1964. Did you ever see that one?
A: I’ve been chatting with a few friends about this. It seems your observation that some tobaccos require less resting of the briar after smoking than others is a fairly common experience, and it makes sense that more natural leaf will result in less non-water moisture finding a home in the bottom of the bowl, and especially in the pipe’s shank, therefore requiring less time to "dry out." Another thing that seems to follow is that the gradual oxidation of those deposited distillates seems to soften their potentially acrid nature, hence the smoother, purer taste that results from a well rested pipe. How long a pipe needs to rest between smoking sessions depends on a lot of factors, including the briar itself, the tobacco being smoked, the habits of the smoker, and how tolerant the smoker is to the harshness of these byproducts; some can’t tolerate it, and others don’t seem to mind it very much at all. Once again, ask 100 pipe smokers a question, you’ll likely get at least 101 answers. Different smokes for different folks.
When I was at Berkeley, the Campus Smoke Shop had become Whelan’s. They had a great magazine selection, an interesting array of fairly inexpensive pipes (I still have a lovely GBD New Era squat bulldog I bought for about $12 -(how times have changed!) and some decent shop tobaccos, including one called Black and Gold that I quite liked, but I don’t recall Old Chippewa Straight. Maybe one of our readers can shed light.
Kevin dances on his keyboard in tiny little tap shoes to ask: Are all tobaccos fermented at some point in their processing? Are any fermented more than once? Does pressing cause fermentation?
A: The short answer is yes, they are, but it’s a bit more complicated than that, as different tobacco types will undergo different types of fermentation at different points along their journey to our pipes.
All tobaccos begin their post-harvest life with curing, which is primarily a controlled drying process designed to get the tobacco into a state where it won’t further decompose. (I discussed curing methods in a previous column.) Once cured, tobaccos are still quite harsh, and not ready for smoking, so they undergo a period of fermentation to eliminate some of the harsher nitrogenous compounds, develop additional flavor and aroma, and to stabilize the leaf for storage. Finally, the tobacco is aged until it’s ready for use. This is the point at which blenders will usually accept the leaf.
Once blended and tinned, additional fermentation will take place. There’s much talk about aerobic and anaerobic bacteria, and both play a role in what’s going on in the tin. One common misconception is that vacuum sealed tins automatically undergo anaerobic fermentation, and this isn’t correct, as there is still plenty of air in those tins. The manufacturer puts the tins in a partially evacuated chamber which draws the lids down tightly and holds them in place until the gasket around the lid, softened from heating, cools and seals the tins.
Then, as aerobic fermentation takes place, oxygen is used up, and CO2 is evolved, ultimately halting the process, and allowing anaerobic fermentation to take place. This combined process will take place in a vacuum sealed tin just as it will in a tin sealed at atmospheric pressure, though the rate at which these changes take place will be affected by the amount of oxygen in different packages.
Pressing does not really "cause" fermentation, but as the tobaccos are put under extreme pressure, redistributing their moisture and soluble flavor components, there is very little oxygen left in the blocks, especially at their cores, so in addition to the the melding and integration of flavor components of the different leaf in the blend, anaerobic fermentation will tend to begin much earlier in the process. Once the blocks are cut and tinned, a third round of fermentation often takes place, along with other reactions thanks to the new environment. Of course, once the tin is opened, some volatile elements dissipate, and fresh air is introduced, resulting in the process changing yet again.
For those still reading, we’ve reached the end of another installment. Got burning questions? Submit them here! Got comments? Submit those down below. We love hearing from our readers.
-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. |
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Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 606. Our featured interview tonight is with Per George Jensen. Most pipe enthusiasts know Per as the longtime Mac Baren Tobacco Company spokesman. Last year he made some changes in his life. He got married, moved to Germany and parted ways with Mac Baren, but not with the tobacco business. He is consulting with Sutliff Tobacco Co., and he created the popular and unique signature tobacco series, âPipe Forceâ. Tonight’s discussion will include details on Perâs line of blending tobacco, which has something for everyone. You can smoke them straight, but if you want to blend tobaccos, we will have some good advice on this episode. At the top of the show, since it’s springtime, Brian will discuss seasonal tobaccos and answer two questions that come up often.
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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. 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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, heâd 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 âtechniqueâ 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; itâs 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 wasnât until a few years later when, still full of curiosity and romantic notions of pipe smoking, I wandered into a real tobacconistâs shop, and learned my âmethodâ 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 Iâve 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, itâs 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, âHere be dragons.â The other day, I came across a short video on-line in which a well-meaning tobacconist suggested packing a bowl of an âEnglishâ mixture ânice and tight.â Perhaps somewhat ironically, I was smoking, or trying to smoke a bowl that Iâd filled on auto-pilot, packed too tightly, and not only was having the devil of a time trying to keep it lit, I really wasnât enjoying the acrid smoke the tobacco issued during the brief periods in which it was actually burning. âNo, no, NO!â 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 hadnât 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 Iâve 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 Iâd 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 didnât seem to be a reason to explore beyond my ânewâ approach. It wasnât 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 didnât 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 didnât seem to get along well with Virginias, that they werenât for me. âMaybe itâs the way you pack them. Here, let me fill your pipe for you.â 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. 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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. Weâll have JD with the âFrom the Country Squireâ segment talking about all the new things happening at the store and in the business in general. At the top of the show, weâll 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 centuryâs 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 hasnât 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 microscopeâSutliffâs 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. Itâs 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 nightâs beach party. Once itâs 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, Iâve 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 prepareâI prefer mine with a bit of drying time. The out-of-this-world tin art for this episode in the series is Major OâMeara smoking a cavalier. In the absence of confirmation, Iâm going to hazard a guess heâs 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 pushedâthis is where oneâs 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 Rusticaâs 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 Iâve 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 Kateriniâs 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 doesnât 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 itâs 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 canât effectively catalog them all. Our pet adding machines are exceedingly good at this, however, and someday soon theyâll 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.
Oh my gosh! My secretary wondered what in the world I was doing in my office as I was in tears laughing over the delirium and chest hair comment!
The crab salad (on Boudin sourdough bread of course) that may be purchased on Fisherman’s Wharf is simply one of the best things that I have ever eaten. Is it made from your beloved Dungeness crab?
Also, Boudin sourdough bread is sold in the Midwest (and eagerly purchased by me) at Costco.
That crab salad would indeed be made from the delightful Dungeness. As for Boudin being available in the mid-west, I’ll take your word, but you certainly cannot get it fresh and warm from the bakery! (Do you detect just a wee bit of gloating? đ )
Yet another fine article, Greg!
I live in Dungeness, WA, a five minute walk from the Dungeness Bay.
There’s nothing like a bowl of Odyssey after a dinner of Dungeness crab. Our next door neighbor has a boat and all of the equipment it takes to hunt the wiley Dungeness crab. When we see his truck pulling his boat back home, we know there are a few crabs on there way into our pot.
You bring the crusty Boudin sourdough, I’ll supply enough crab to put all of us into a delightful delirium.
Denman
Many thanks for a fine article!
Always interesting and informative.
Another good job!
Great article, Greg. Nothing like learning something with humor injected.
I love reading these articles! Thanks for the brief history of F&P.