Saving for a Rainy Day
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Kevin Godbee - Jan 2, 2011
- 8 min read
By G. L. Pease
In the early 1980s, when I first took up the pipe seriously, aging tobaccos wasn’t something many smokers talked about. Most pipe smokers simply bought their tobaccos from their local shop, smoked it, and thought little of it. In fact, older literature often suggests that tobaccos should be enjoyed relatively fresh.
Charles Rattray, for instance, in his Disquisition for the Connoisseur (date unknown), wrote, "Tobacco is a vegetable that lives and breathes: it does not improve by being imprisoned in an air-tight compartment." (He later retreats somewhat, writing about his mixtures that, "they improve with keeping, and the last pipeful or two of a pound of tobacco tastes the best.") Somewhat ironically, old cutter-top "prisons" of Rattray’s blends are some of the most highly coveted and revered blends amongst today’s cognoscenti.
Fortunately, I was introduced to the joys of aged tobaccos early on. Robert Rex, then proprietor of Drucquer & Sons, Ltd, (my local tobacconist’s, where I spent more free time in my university years than I did at the Silver Ball Gardens, the local pinball arcade), had put aside tins of several of the house blends, and sold them after aging for five years. The transformation was remarkable. I will never forget the first time I tasted "Red Lion" and "Inns of Court" with five years behind them. Life changing might be an exaggeration, but it certainly had an impact on the future path of my pipe smoking. Time had worked a magic that no amount of messing about with blending ever could. I was hooked.
This was significant. Thirty years ago, talking about "vintage" and "aged" tobaccos would have most people looking at you like a nuthouse Napoleon. But, Robert’s aged Drucquer blends set some of us on a mighty crusade. We began pouring over the shelves of every out-of-the-way tobacconist’s we could find, hoping to find forgotten tins. We’d visit, strike up a conversation, and finally ask, "Do you have anything in the back that’s been sitting around for a while?" As often as not, the answer would be yes, and shopkeepers would disappear into darkened corners of musty back rooms, emerging with old, dust-covered tins that had "never sold very well," often offering them at a discount just to be rid of them. In markets where American aromatics were numero uno, those stinky English weeds would often languish on the shelves until they were finally removed so the space could be occupied by something that might actually sell. Bonus for lovers of the stinky stuff.
One of our little cadre discovered Garfinkel’s, in Washington DC, and more specifically, the Orient Express #11 that had been produced for them by Sobranie House some years prior. Apparently, they had a warehouse full of the stuff, so I made nice with Larry Garfinkel, and arranged a monthly shipment of eight 2oz. tins. One pound of nectar of the gods, delivered to my postbox every month for the grand sum of about $28. I’d smoke one tin, sometimes two, and the rest would be safely nestled in my linen closet. That was then. Eventually, after a couple of years, the well ran dry. I’ll never forget the day Larry called me to ask if he could send me two pounds that month. Sure, Larry. Not a problem. Why?
"I’m sorry to tell you this, but it’s the last two pounds I’ve got."
Silently crestfallen, me. Fortunately, by that point, I was fairly well supplied. I reduced the rate of my consumption, and still, almost 30 years later, am able to enjoy a tin of my all time fave once in a while, but the lesson was learned. I started cellaring everything.
Today, things are a little different. It’s become fairly commonplace for people to chase after and pay outrageous prices for vintage or discontinued tobaccos, and many age their own. It’s now widely known that fine, natural tobaccos, like fine wines, often benefit from time in their respective prisons. A great blend gains complexity and richness over time, developing new aromas and character, much like the bottle bouquet of vintage grape juice. And, like wines, some tobaccos age more gracefully than others, some having the potential to carry on longer than we will.
On one end of the scale are virginias and virginia/perique blends. The natural sugar content and structure of the leaf give these ideal characteristics for long aging. I’ve smoked flakes and coins from the 1940s that were exquisite, and far from over-the-hill. Second to virginias are the oriental tobaccos, which take on wonderful fruity notes over time. I don’t know the upper limit for tobaccos dominated by orientals, but I’d guess it to be at least 30-40 years before they might begin a slow decline, and if virginias make up a high percentage of their mix, they’ll last longer, still. Burleys are generally found with plenty of virginias in the same soup, so the same situation applies. (Most aromatics don’t really change much over time, at least not in a positive direction. The stabilizers and flavorings tend to arrest the biological and chemical processes responsible for the aging process.)
Latakia, itself, doesn’t seem to fare quite as well as other leaf. After some time in the tin – some would say only a few years, which I think a little pessimistic – it loses a bit of its spicy punch, becoming softer and more delicate in both taste and aroma. To some, this might actually be an advantage, but to the true Latakiaphile, mixtures that rely heavily on the smoky stuff are likely to be considered less long-lived than those using it in more gentle measures. I’ve certainly enjoyed some wonderful examples of 30-year old mixtures, and some even older, but not all have aged as gracefully.
So, how long we age a blend depends on a lot of factors, including blend components and especially personal preference. And, unfortunately, the only way to discover what blends you like aged, and for how long, is to develop a cellaring strategy that works for you. Here’s mine. It’s simple, relatively painless, and in less than a year, you can begin to explore the world of aged tobaccos, while building a nice cellar of favorites for the future.
In the beginning, each time you finish a tin of something you want to age, buy two to replace it. Write the date on the bottoms of the tins. Keep one out to smoke, and put the other away in a cool, dry place – cardboard banker’s boxes work well. Your collection will grow in proportion to your preferences; if you smoke twice as much of a particular blend over another, you’ll be adding it to the cellar at twice the rate. Doing it this way, your cellar will adapt to changing preferences, and accommodate the exploration of new territory. Once you’re smoking your aged tins, replace them with fresh ones to maintain your cellar. Simple.
When you decide to try something new, buy at least two tins. Put all but one away, and smoke that one as soon as possible. Don’t put it in a box or a drawer, waiting for it to whisper your name. Experiencing blends when young is a vital step in understanding how tobaccos will develop and change over time, and there are some blends that, honestly, are really enjoyable, perhaps even better, with the exuberance of youth bursting the seams of their tins. Besides, if you just stash it away, you might forget about it, and risk missing out on something that may well become your next top-tier blend. Remember, you’re not just building a cellar, here, but also a rich body of experiences that will enhance your pipe smoking pleasure for years to come.
As you progress in your collecting, taste often, and take notes. Since you’re buying at twice the rate you’re consuming, your cellar will grow, and within six months, you can start tasting the magic that age works. I’ve always found it a lot of fun to explore a blend at different stages of its development. Good milestones are six months, a year, two years, five years, ten.
Cellaring tobacco this way presents other benefits, as well. First, it’s a bit of a hedge against inevitable future price increases; there’s truth in the statement that pipe tobacco will never be any less expensive than it is today, so think of your cellar as a cost averaged investment, if that helps.
Further, in the event that something you really like disappears from the market, you’ll at least have set some aside for the rainy days. Finally, those rare vintage blends that you’ve hoarded may well be worth a significant amount more in the future than you paid for them. (I wish I had been more careful in taking my own advice with some of my own blends. When I see how much Bohemian Scandal sells for on ebay, I wish I had a thousand tins squirreled away.)
Tastes do change, of course, but that’s nothing to really worry about. For one thing, they often change back. (My tastes, as I’ve come to learn over the years, are seasonally fickle. The same thing I love in July will drive me crazy in January, and vice versa. There are very few "year round" tobaccos for me.) But, if you really turn the corner, and find your tastes completely different in the years ahead, you’ll have something to sell or trade that will more than likely have more value than what you originally paid for it. You can’t lose.
Exploring aged tobaccos is a fantastic way to extend your pipe experiences. If you’ve never done it, start now. Put some of your most beloved blends away, and revisit them in July. I’ve been using this strategy now for over 25 years, and at this point, I could smoke nothing but well aged tobaccos for the rest of my life. Not that I would. It seems somebody keeps coming up with new things to try.
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. |
Related Article: Pipe Tobacco Storage, By Bob Tate
Written by Kevin Godbee
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Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 504! We have a special format for tonight’s show. We will have Brian moderating two well-known pipe artisans asking each other questions and discussing pipe making. This is the final episode in a three part series with Jeff Gracik, and Jody Davis. Jeff makes J. Alan Pipes and is an expert, artisan pipe maker for nearly 20-years. Jody is a renowned pipe artisan, and the lead guitar player for the Grammy-nominated Christian rock band, The Newsboys. The guys will take up the entire show except for the mailbag at the end, and REALLY BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! Be sure to listen to the entire show. Sit back, relax with your pipe, and enjoy The Pipes Magazine Radio Show!
The late Bill Unger, long-time secretary/treasurer of the North American Society of Pipe Collectors and editor of the Pipe Collector newsletter, was often quoted as saying, “If you have one pipe, you’re a pipe smoker. If you have two pipes, you’re a collector.” The question of what makes an aggregate of pipes an actual “collection” is something that I’ve often struggled with, and every attempt to pin things down has found me in the weeds. Collectors of most objets d’art tend to have some sort of focus, and to take the stance that my focus is on “pipes” has always felt a bit like a cheap way out. I have friends who collect a certain shape, or a certain maker’s work, or pipes from a specific country or era. One specializes in straight grain, always seeking the next incremental step towards perfection, while never accumulating too many pieces. I, on the other hand, have never been a specialist, but the term generalist doesn’t adequately describe my proclivity either. Over the years, as my tastes have changed and evolved, I’ve chased many different styles of pipe, resulting in an embarrassingly large gathering of briars that range from the most traditional to the frankly weird. Is it really a “collection” when the only thing that ties its elements together is not a thread but a mooring rope? Once, I was most interested in bulldogs, especially the squat bowl variant. One of my first good pipes was a GBD in this shape; so early along my collecting journey, I didn’t even know what the shape was called, but I was attracted by its almost UFO-like styling – I just found the shape engaging, Learning more about classic shapes, I began to look at other bulldog variants, and found myself gravitating towards the bent versions, especially rhodesians, with their round shanks, squat, voluptuous bulldog-esque bowls, and that wonderfully comfortable half-bend. I gathered quite a few of them, ranging in size from small to quite large, and thought I’d found my niche. Of course, this wouldn’t last forever, and soon other shapes caught my attention. The prince, long and elegant, with its wider bowl and gentle curve seemed like maybe it was the perfect shape. Its slender shank and long stem result in a light pipe that keeps the smoke out of your eyes. I’ve also often posited that there is no better “pointing pipe” than the prince. Then came the lovats. Their compact shape, short saddle mouthpieces and capacious bowls seemed to be my ideal. And, speaking of compact shapes, the little “brucianaso,” exemplified by the Castello #10, was so appealing, I found myself chasing them at a time when they were exceedingly rare. The billiard, at one time, seemed sort of boring to me, but it is such a classic shape, and when cut really nicely, has its own beauty and charm. Now, I have quite a few of them. And there are the apples, with their thick, curvaceous bowls that feel so good in the hand. And the Castello #55 pot, one of Carlo Scotti’s personal faves. Get the picture? Like a butterfly, I have always flitted from shape to shape, extracting the nectar of whatever form appealed to me at the moment before moving on to the next flower. But it was always the more classic shapes, the pipes from England, France, and to a degree, those from Italy that held my interest. Then, in the late 1990s, something changed, and I became attracted to some of the Danish styles, not so much the wild “freehand” shapes, but the modernist interpretations of classic pipe forms that came from the minds and hands of the early masters. The direction of Danish pipe making was born out of a functionalist design aesthetic, where minimalism and function, elegance and nuance held priority over the ornate. These makers took familiar forms and rendered them with sleeker lines, softer curves, and a more minimalist approach. Some were additionally inspired by nature, bringing new words to the vocabulary of pipe shapes. I was intrigued, and as more of these shapes found their way into my group, they scribbled another page of an increasingly disorganized book. They didn’t displace my beloved classics, but expanded my appreciation in yet another direction. Oh, and those crazy freehands? What can I say; some of those shapes are so wildly conceived, how could I ignore them? The butterfly finds flowers wherever they are. Mostly, I’ve just accepted, or ignored my rather mercurial tastes, but once in a while, something happens to bring my “strategy” into question. The other day, I was enticed by a beautiful piece by American maker Ryan Alden. I’ve known Ryan for years, and have bought a couple of his pieces, but this pipe lived outside of his norm, and mine. I had to have it. (It’s the sandblast piece in the accompanying photographs.) I’m not even sure I know what to call it. Urchin-esque? Squat apple? Cinnamon bun? Tomato? Nothing quite fits, but, as soon as I had it in hand, I realized that a couple other pieces I have bear similar profiles, like the pictured Bengt Carlson rusticated and bamboo-shanked piece by Taiwan’s Jerry Zenn. Will these three pipes become the cornerstone of a new direction, a new sub-collection? I’m not sure, but at the moment, I kind of hope so. I certainly have more than one pipe, so in deference to a dear departed friend’s memory, I’ll just try to accept his definition and find peace within my capricious nature. I am a pipe collector.
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 503! Our featured interview tonight is with Fred Janusek. He is a Doctor of Pipes, and professor of mathematics. Fred is in his early 80s, and he has been smoking a pipe since college in 1957. His first pipe was a very shellac-covered Yello Bole. This show will be the first installment of “Storytime with Fred Janusek”. These are some great stories back when pipes were everywhere, including men’s clothing stores. At the top of the show, we will have an Ask the Tobacco Blender segment with Jeremy Reeves. Jeremy is the Head Blender at Cornell & Diehl, which is one of the most popular boutique pipe tobacco companies in the USA. Sit back, relax with your pipe, and enjoy The Pipes Magazine Radio Show!
Ah, the joys of spring. April showers bringing May flowers, trees budding, birds flitting in fits of joy, and hope springing eternal. As our friend e.e. cummings said, “always it’s spring and everyone’s in love”. Ah, love, yes, above all love. Have you ever fallen in love? With a pipe, that is. Yes, dear brothers of the briar, a pipe so fetching you are mesmerized by its glimmering beauty. Let’s go back some years. The Pundit was in an Alabama brick and mortar pipes and tobacco shop (memory says it was The Briary in Homewood) when naturally, the subject of pipes and tobacco took center stage in the conversation. The genteel chap behind the counter asked me if I had ever thought of owning a Claudio Cavicchi pipe? Well, no. For back in those youthful days I’d never even heard of a Cavicchi pipe, let alone a Claudio Cavicchi. “Oh,” said the gentleman behind the counter, “we have only a couple here. One is a gorgeous Canadian.” The Canadian was a blond beauty. I was moonstruck with thunderbolt love and pulled out my thin wallet. I threw in a pouch of Virginia tobacco to break in my new beauty. “You won’t be disappointed,” he called out after me. That Cavicchi hit me like a dancing string of lightning. It was a shimmering slim magnificence, purity of line and spirit. I became fascinated and wanted to know everything I could about the actual Mister Claudio Cavicchi. Lo, he was but a humble Italian farmer. But upon studying nature in his daily life, and experiencing renewal and growth from the Earth, Claudio one day decided he could craft pipes as well as crops. He became an artisanal pipe maker, a craftsman of world-renown, a master of design. Dear reader, there is a world of science and physics involved in his pipe creations and immaculate stains that just make the pipe’s grain glow. His meticulousness gave rise to his unique grading system ranging from a single “C” to a quintuple of “Cs.” More “Cs” translates to higher grades of briar. Claudio also creates his seldom seen Perla as well as the extremely rare “Diamante,” both absolute zeniths of the Cavicchi line. But as youth are often unpredictable and sometimes dismay us elders with unique logic (strengths, my dear lads, for you usher in the new and keep us elders on our toes and we thank you for doing so!) so was I in those years so long ago. And for reasons I still cannot fathom, I let a pal talk me into trading my lovely Cavicchi Canadian for some sort of English pipe. Looking back in time from this wizened vantage, I must ask myself: what in the world was I thinking? “Nothing, apparently” is the only reply the universe has so far provided. That trade bothered me many years. Until this spring, that is dear reader. For reasons I cannot fathom, luck favored me again with the recent discovery of another beautiful blond Cavicchi Canadian. Yes, the price had gone up a bit, but that didn’t matter. I had to have the Canadian’s return to my precious herd. It was ordered along with another pouch of Virginia, just like the first iteration of so long ago. The new blond beauty smoked wonderfully well, just as did the original I let get away. Only this Canadian was a slightly better Cavicchi grade. Rest assured, it now holds down a permanent place in the Pundit rotation. I can see the wrinkles on your faces: But it’s just another Canadian, and why the Virginia tobacco to christen a new pipe? Well, my friends, if you have not yet tried a Cavicchi, it’s like the briar and leaf Meister behind that pipe and tobacco counter in Alabama said so long ago, “You won’t be disappointed.” For Claudio has that most sacred and, anymore at least, rare power: an agrarian connection to the land. A farmer who, to know success, attunes himself to nature’s rhythms and mysteries, beguilements, and cycles. As Pearl S. Buck said in The Good Earth, “and roots, if they are to bear fruits, must be kept well in the soil of the land.” For after all, what is briar but a root ball transformed by wood sculptors? If you need more encouragement, check out two wonderful pieces on Claudio: In The Workshop With Claudio Cavicchi June 22, 2016, by Shane Ireland in Makers and Artists …and Chuck Stanion’s A Closer Look At Claudio Cavicchi Dec. 17, 2018, in Makers and Artists at SmokingPipes.com I love these lines from Chuck’s insight into Cavicchi’s artistry: “This is a craftsman who knows pipes from many perspectives. He knows what makes a pipe smoke well and what makes a pipe look beautiful. He knows how to charm the briar to his bidding.” Now, concerning tobacco, if you wonder at Pundit’s preference for pure Virginia, please refer to the late and lamented McClelland No. 5100 Red Cake. I learned the Virginia break-in trick from a veteran pipe smoker, a medical doctor in fact, who taught me to always break in a new pipe with Virginia because of its ability to rid a new bowl of any lingering baddies and thereby prepare it for just about any sort of future tobacco blend you throw at it. His choice was McClelland’s 5100 Red Cake. That’s because Virginia tobaccos (along with burleys, perique, and Cavendish) play such a significant role in today’s blends. In olden times, pipe smokers pulled out a pouch of pure burley, loaded up, and smoked through the day. Today’s blenders are magicians, true chefs of tobacco blends. Now the Pundit is no tobacco blender, but I’m at least smart enough to abide the advice of veterans. If you’ll allow me to linger on the topic of blends, I’ll share with you by way of the Chicagoland Pipe Show that Virginia slices are a good choice when breaking in tobacco blends as well. And dear reader, […]
This cellar-diving kick is really paying off, considering the time and effort that went into stocking the coffers with tobacco meant to be enjoyed with some age on its side. This month’s candidate for review is a tin of JackKnife Plug dated 6th April 2011, among the first production runs of this blend from the New World Collection. Having done a release review for it and its fraternal twin JackKnife Ready Rubbed back in 2012, and seeing as this tin is just reaching its eleventeenth birthday, it seems a fitting time to revisit what Mr. Pease hath wrought. Opening the tin with no small amount of anticipation, one can really appreciate the way patience can pay off with tobacco. The aromatics release with a whoosh of pressure, itself an immensely satisfying sound while peeling back the lid. The scents fill the air immediately, strong and sweet tones that flood the entire room: up front, the rich bitter sweetness of a Terry’s Dark Chocolate Orange, baker’s chocolate; developing over some time with nuances like rich mulched earth, brand new leather shoes, a phenolic tinge reminiscent of Dettol or pine tar, and an underlying meatiness of a lightly-charred steak. Over the course of a couple of weeks making my way through the tin, the aroma tempers down to a more familiar chocolate-covered cherry cordial with layers of parchment and a briney umami saltiness like soy or Worcestershire sauce. It’s tempting, with all this chocolaty aroma, to take a bite out of the brownie-like bar of tobacco, a feeling I’m surely not alone in contemplating. The presentation does however invite closer inspection of the tobacco, such a tangible thing when in bar form. This 11-year-old plug is only lightly dusted with the whitish ‘sugar crystals’ often found on aged Virginia blends, and peering into the layers from outermost to innermost there is a general uniformity of color and texture all the way through—again, and not to belabor the point, but the color is a rich, bitter dark chocolate-brown that perfectly mirrors the aromas. The composition of this blend is clearly no accident, no haphazard mashing together of leaf. Greg clearly set out with a goal in mind: exploring the breadth and depth of the character that could be created when working with the darling of the pipe tobacco world at the time, dark-fired Kentucky. Dark-fired enjoyed a bit of a heyday with the release of these GLP offerings, as well as a host of others such as MacBaren’s HH Old Dark Fired. Speaking on the composition of JK Plug versus Ready-Rubbed, he notes: 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. It was also clearly intended with aging in mind; again, in Greg’s own words: When I first designed the stuff, I had no idea what the future would bring. There was certainly no reason to think it would do anything but age wonderfully, but you never know. The plug form causes internal anaerobic fermentation, while the outer layers are still exposed to plenty of air. The other night, I opened an 8-month old tin of the final prototype. The aroma was intoxicating, and the smoke was HUGE. I think it’s safe to say it’s going to age really, really nicely. And quickly. I would have believed the tobacco in that tin to have been 5 years old already. With more than a decade under the hood waiting to prove or disprove this theory, the bar was sliced thin and thick, folded, rubbed, and stuffed into a variety of bowl geometries to tease out its flavors, and the results are resoundingly positive. The verdict? JackKnife Plug has the character and complexion of the heartiest of English blends, while being completely absent of Latakia or Oriental leaf. It ages like a peaty single-malt of the finest provenance, developing layers and depth that belie the relative simplicity of its ingredients. I quickly gravitated toward a wider, open-chambered pipe for tasting, one that I would generally use for English blends, as it naturally accommodated the finer nuances of the smoke—and the smoke is certainly huge. The top of the bowl starts with a piccolo-like overture from the Virginia-Perique nexus, with a peppery nose prominently laying the groundwork for what’s to come—think Shostakovich’s 6th, first movement (in fact, this piece is a good parallel overall; perhaps without quite as much of the bombast of later movements). The sweetness is surprisingly underplayed, however—the Perique quickly becomes a background spice, lending sour notes while falling in step with the harmony of the Virginia’s more leathery tones. The sharp edges are all well-rounded over here; far from being able to bite, this smoke develops a thick, steak-dinner mouthfeel almost immediately, one which lingers for a good while after the pipe is finished. By mid-bowl the full composition really comes together, with the darker smokiness of the Kentucky burley stepping center stage even while some of the sweetness sneaks back in. In fact, for beverage pairings I favor an extra-sweet iced tea or soft drink as personal preference. The umami of mid-bowl builds and builds through to the heel, as the chocolaty and nutty tones segue into barbecue woods and steak char, with a touch of Worcestershire still interwoven from the Perique’s spice. Somewhat surprisingly for such a stout blend, the nicotine does not overwhelm—it’s a solid medium-plus, though, best enjoyed after a meal. While my preference with the plug […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 502! In our featured segment we have Fred Hanna returning. Fred is a well-known pipe collector, author, and speaker at pipe shows. He has a PhD. in psychology and teaches the same at the Chicago Campus at Adler University. He is also author of the book, “The Perfect Smoke”. This is the sixth in a recurring series with a long form discussion of pipe and tobacco questions sent in by our listeners. For this episode, the guys will discuss how high they fill the pipe bowl, how pipe smoking has changed them, and pipe smoking in the old days. In the opening “Pipe Parts” segment, Brian will review one of listener’s pipe collection. Sit back, relax with your pipe, and enjoy The Pipes Magazine Radio Show!
Thanks Greg. Your article echos what has been my motivation
for the years of feeding the cellar. Good read.
Thanks, Fred. Glad you enjoyed it.
Great stuff, Greg! I have only recently discovered the joys of well aged leaf, and my cellar is still small, but I like the ideas you present here. The biggest fear, of course, is letting a tin go “too far” and having a most disappointing experience upon opening it down the road. Ah well…life is either a great adventure, or nothing, right? 🙂
Thank you for offering your opinions and giving us the benefit of your experience. I’ve been happily following your advice with fair success since I first encountered it in the now defunct Tobacco Aging, Storage and Cellaring FAQ website. In that FAQ you discussed the microbiology of tobacco aging; but it was very sketchy. Is there anything in print that explains how the little buggers improve our tobacco? In other words, what are we smoking in a aged tobacco that isn’t present in a fresh blend.
Whilst I agree with this Greg – and spend time trying to get the chance to agree with it more – I think it’s important to stress that we’re talking about good tobacco blends here; to paraphrase a saying from the wine world – if you age crap you get old crap!
Well put, Jim, though the description I’ve always heard was that of a more liquid bodily secretion. 😉
Señor Attic, the problem here is that I don’t think anyone really fully understands the processes involved, and if they do, they haven’t written about it that I’ve been able to find.
A great read. Thanks!
Thanks for the link (timely too, methinks!), and the sage advice.
-“Phred”
Great Article Greg and I couldn’t agree more. I recently opened a fresh tin of C&D Briar Fox (one of my favs) and a tin from ’07 and they were both good but I prefered the fresh tin vs the aged one. They even looked different.
Great article Greg.
I’ll be adding more to my cellar once I start it. Thanks Greg!
I wish I discover my Grandpa reserve, unfortunately he hadn´t made any although he was a long-time pipesmoker 🙁 But I can make happy my kids and leave them valuable heritage.
Hi Greg,
I loved your article.
Just a question though…
What do you thing about those Lock&Lock plastic jars, those which are 100% hermetic?
I’ve been using them for the short term keeping, but, how about long term, cellar?
Thanks for your advise…
I’m not a big fan of plastic containers, so I can’t say much about any particular brand. It’s easy to make plastics that either present a high barrier against water loss, or against gas exchange, but tough to make one that does both. Glass is still king when it comes to secondary storage.
Mr. Pease, once again, thanks for a great read. As an Assistant Professor of Microbiology, who is also an avid pipe smoker, I have long wondered what microbial processes are at work on the aging process of pipe tobacco. After doing some preliminary literature searches (pubmed at NCBI), I have come to the conclusion that much less is known about these processes in tobacco, than, say, microbial fermentations leading to other useful commercial products (e.g., those found in the food and beverage industries). Apparently, as these tobaccos age prior to the canning process itself, a number of microbiological events occur, involving a range of distinct species of bacteria and fungi. This is because of high water levels, that drop during production, finally reaching their lowest states prior to canning. After canning, which is what your article is really about, these microbial processes continue, somewhat abated, and most surprisingly involve an entirely different population of microbes, one encompassing more fungi and less bacteria. After sealing, of course, the oxygen levels plummet, from 20% atmospheric to levels lower than 5% eventually, over time. This is due to the metabolic process of the populations of obligate aerobes that came in with the tobacco, and are most active in the presence of high levels of oxygen. Concomitantly, as the endogenous aerobic species that came in with the tobacco gradually give way to the emergence of at first facultative (~10-15% oxygen) and then obligate (less than 5% oxygen) anaerobic microbes. The biological processes that these microbes undergo (from obligate aerobes through to facultative and then eventually obligate anaerobes) result in the production of a number of different classes of volatile molecules. As every schoolboy knows, organic molecules (hydrocarbons) are classified into four groups (sugars, proteins, nucleic acids and lipids). Interestingly, as the aging process proceeds, over years, the sugars become fully metabolized first by the aerobes early on, leaving primarily the latter three classes of molecules. The deamination (yielding organic acids) and decarboxylation (yielding volatile, smelly amines) of amino acids in the proteins and the conversion of the lipids into smaller, more volatile fatty acid chains, is what is primarily responsible for the “bouquet” upon opening the tobacco can. Presumably, during the smoking, it is the presence of these volatiles that lend the palate of the blend. The sugars that do remain, that were not accessible to the early degredation by the obligate aerobes, is what is going on with the sugar-rich Virginias. Apparently, the packing of the tobacco (plug verses loose) is what determines how much of this sugar is freely metabolized early on. To me, it would seem, a Virginia plug would retain more sugar than a loosely packed Virginia. A good starting reference might be: Appl Environ Microbiol. 2007 Feb;73(3):825-37. Microbial community structure and dynamics of dark fire-cured tobacco fermentation. Di Giacomo M, Paolino M, Silvestro D, Vigliotta G, Imperi F, Visca P, Alifano P, Parente D. Source British American Tobacco Italia, via Cinthia, 80126 Naples, Italy.
Source: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17142368
Anywhoo, a long winded report, but not one without some thought. Keep up the great blending and fine writing. You are appreciated!
Greg and I are about the same age, but I wish I’d learned the virtues of aging tobaccos back when he did. I used to shop at Garfinckels in D.C. too, and Bertrams as well, and could have some pretty wonderful weed in my cellar, but I don’t. I never had any smoking “pals” or mentors; I was pretty much on my own.
I accidentally found out about aging tobacco at one point. I moved, and tossed a stash of cheap drugstore bulk stuff onto the top shelf of a closet. When I moved again a couple years later, I found it. Thinking it would be nasty, I re-moistened it and tried it, to find that it was now much mellower in taste. It went quickly. I didn’t realize that this treatment would also work with GOOD tobacco, so I didn’t bother. Nowdays I don’t smoke much any more, and I sure would like to have some well-aged good blends to tap, but I don’t.
So, all I can say is take the man’s advice, and start now! -LK