Peterson Balkan Delight
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Kevin Godbee - Apr 7, 2016
- 12 min read
Kyle Weiss
Latakia gives a special kind of gift, one that appreciators will understand, anyway. We might find ourselves reaching for a tin of something containing the leaf and seeking that “just right” smoky balance to satisfy expectations. For some, it’s the smoothness of the smoke overall. Others, the role of that campfire-like pungent goodness, be it minute, piquant or proclaimed. I’m not willing nor qualified to tackle directly the whole differences between what makes a “Balkan” pipe tobacco mixture versus an “English” counterpart. The arguments are many, vast, and left to men more interested in specifics in purity and nomenclature; eventually, someone out there has to actually smoke the tobacco. I like picking up a new Balkan or English tobacco, though I’ve learned to have neutral expectations when taking on a new mixture. There’s been plenty of disappointments, perhaps just as many as there were “oh wow” moments. Tobacco, if we give it a chance speaks (or submissively squeaks) for itself. No matter the name or the contents, it’s simply a matter of what it says to us, and whether or not we accept it. Moments and simplicity are just as important in getting to know each new blend we discover, and Peterson’s Balkan Delight reminded me of this.
Optimistically, I like to think every tin of tobacco in existence is made with the same time and care necessary to create a good product. Meaning, not something that isn’t purely new for the sake of satisfying an ever-hungry public. Some blenders aim for the middle, making something so inoffensive it yawns, others race to assault the senses. I’m dubious of both approaches, personally. Right or wrong, and not being a tobacco mixer or blender myself, I can only imagine the pressure and patience a person tasked with this responsibility must go through. As a cook and a writer, however, I do know it often takes a team of colleagues and trusted opinions to get to the desired end result. It’s often a group effort. One tongue or set of eyes is very rarely enough to present a masterpiece for all to enjoy. Sometimes, it’s a win. Sometimes, it flops and fails miserably. Sometimes it’s so out-there or overworked, it loses itself. Sometimes it’s so subtle it simply disappears. Dealing with success is easy, but in base criticism or complete failure, all any creator can do is dust themselves off, regroup, learn and get better.
The Company known as Scandinavian Tobacco Group/Lane is the source of concern for some. They have and are currently taking over many of the traditional brands, blends and mixtures out there, sometimes to the disappointment of those who grew up and grew into liking the originals from years past. Being a reasonably opinionated man and experiencing some of the products both before and after STG took on these challenges, I’ve been pleased with a lot of what they’ve done lately. Granted, old incarnations of tobacco are different from the new versions, but I find letting them stand on their own is just as important as comparing them to what was. My heart goes out to the old smokers who try to chase their sentimental leaf brands, but it’s also gotten me interested in what my generation’s version of that will be: which “new classics” are going to perhaps be gone one day? Which mixtures and favorites will be no more, and which will I miss? If one is good, even great, as with any consumable pleasure, I’d better get as many good sessions with it as I can–nothing lasts forever.
Peterson’s Balkan Delight is something I tried about two months ago upon a gift and suggestion of a customer at my shop. Curious because of the temptation of a new Latakia offering, I accepted a tin. It’s a relatively recent mixture but with a familiar idea–it isn’t a reboot of an old Balkan favorite, but it has been on the market for a couple of years. This is a good thing, as most tins out there have likely achieved decent “shelf time” to meld flavors in sealed tins. Bearing the Peterson name in a green and red tin, STG/Lane quietly jumped into a crowded pool of Balkan offerings on the market.
Everyone who makes pipe tobacco has to have a Balkan-style pipe tobacco in their lines. Why, I’m not sure, as the genre is probably one of the most ridiculously debated and least understood of them. One old codger once told me a while back on the subject of trying Latakia themed tobaccos: “…if you like Virginias, smoke English; if you like the Oriental spice, smoke the Balkan.” Simple, but reasonable. It’s also a slightly misleading maxim, as what I’ve discovered in definition of “Balkan” has flip-flopped a few times. For further reading and consideration, I’ll defer you to an article here at PipesMagazine.com by G.L. Pease from mid 2010 titled "What is a Balkan Blend?"
In the case of Peterson’s Balkan Delight, my relationship with it went beyond nailing down ingredients or terminology. This time of year, as weather steadily increases temperatures, I find myself smoking less and less Latakia. The days get longer, and the lighter my tobacco, usually in the form of redder and brighter Virginia leaf, which by the time autumn comes back, has me really craving spicier and smokier offerings. For some reason, I’ve been bucking that personal trend. A customer of mine at the shop insisted I break my routine and try it.
The tin notes are direct: “A traditional mixture comprising the finest of Virginia tobaccos plus a hint of Louisiana Perique and a generous portion of Cyprus Latakia. A delight for the seasoned pipe smoker.”
Upon opening, the screw-lid tin of Peterson’s Balkan Delight reveals a very tortoise shell colored mélange of chunky yet ribbon-like tobacco. It looks as it smells, nothing particularly dominant or subtle; it’s not heavily light or dark in color, it’s somewhat smoky, it’s slightly sweet, woody, and it has a light texture to the touch. As is preferred with most of my tobacco, I allowed it to dry for a few minutes before I loaded a bowl. I chose an old Mastercraft billiard for initial tasting. This pipe isn’t a show-stopper, but it is a pipe that I had been repeatedly grabbing since about mid autumn last year and performs admirably with anything Latakia. This is where surprise took over from my naturally skeptical nature when I try something new. I didn’t instantly love this tobacco, because it hit me differently than others bearing the same pedigree. It had smokiness, smoothness, a touch of distant spice, and a good flavor, but it was oddly simple. I didn’t get any direct Perique, and I found it strange to put Perique in the tobacco mixture at all. Many Balkans I have jumped into, even liked, tend to lean towards separating themselves from English tobaccos by simply being different, and especially different from other Balkans. Not knowing the secrets or intents of their creators, Balkans have the ability to sometimes lean more edgy, or more briny, or more sharp as compared to English counterparts. Balkan-style tobacco can be all over the map, weirdly rough and rebelliously unbalanced, wherein I find English tobaccos often are reminiscent to other English tobaccos, probably due to old purity laws. Even more, revisited or remade classic Balkans can range from very brash to very good–if not a perfect facsimile. In contrast, Balkan Delight, being a new kid on the block, stands on its own with one peculiar difference: it’s interestingly simple, and I really came to like smoking it.
I tend to smoke sparingly compared to other guys, usually my needs are “one in the morning, one at night.” This is not a strict practice, as there’s times at the shop when I’m having a great time loading and reloading a bowl of this tobacco as I’m cleaning the store, weighing out tobacco for customers, or when I’m driving and have some distance to cover. I adore smoking and driving, the music playing over the hum of the engine and road noise while the world whirrs by at a steady clip. There’s also social occasions where people are gathered around a fire or a barbecue, drinks in hand and conversation intertwines with laughter, great smells and light breezes. These are the times I reach for more than my daily routine and its for this reason certain tobacco must perform differently. For my needs, it has to be present and alive, without being fatiguing in either taste or nicotine content. There’s nothing worse for me than having too much of a good thing, whether it be a nicotine buzz or a dominant flavor.
Over the course of the next few weeks, I couldn’t put down Balkan Delight. I had a tin of it on me nearly every time I went to the porch, went out for a drink, or went to work. I loaded a bowl in anticipation nearly any time I could. It was the simplicity of both taste and performance that was making me happy. The Latakia is typical Cyprian, not too acidic or fruity, lending savory notes and a bolder smokiness that I’ve come to appreciate more than its rarer, Syrian counterpart. Cyprian Latakia can be overdone in a blend, and it’s extremely important to my tongue there be balance in the end result. Balkan Delight stays right in the properly-tuned realm, and the darker (I’m assuming content here) red Virginias play subtly in the matrix. It’s a woody smoke, warm and even pine-like, and even has kind of a fresh-cut alfalfa hint wafting somewhere in-between. I still have yet to be overwhelmed, offended or even notice the Perique content, which is fascinating, since I am not much of a Perique fan. I couldn’t get the tobacco to burn poorly, even if my mind wandered to other tasks, and even when the pipe is set down for a moment to ease jaw muscles or have a conversation, Balkan Delight stays very true to its original.
A few more weeks pass, and I have since gone for a few more drives, enjoyed a few social gatherings and paired the tobacco with various adult beverages. My customer who had insisted I try this tobacco loudly pointed out my tin one day upon a visit to the shop, “Ah! I see you really got into the Balkan Delight! What do you think of it?” I sheepishly answered him in instant rhetoric, mentioning it is easy to smoke, has nothing offensive about it, it’s clean, and how much of a treat it was to have a tobacco that was a good daily choice in a genre of tobacco that seems to trend on the side of declarative. I couldn’t find a specific reason why I liked it, and this bothered me. I began realizing that though I might be putting this tobacco away soon in lieu of my seasonally-chosen favorites, I also could see myself getting excited to bring this tobacco on autumn fishing trips, for refreshing late season camping excursions and smoking during day hikes in the woods as the leaves begin to fall. Something as simple as a porch and a nice scotch or rye, or a craft brew brown or amber ale proved to be just as enticing a prospect. The potential of this tobacco to be a good future, long-term companion became evident. It was a risk for STG to create another Balkan for the market, and yet make it so specifically un-Balkan–to which it became clear to me this was a strength, not a shortcoming. Charmed by this conclusion, it was then I decided to challenge myself to actually write a review about it.
It’s difficult to organize and make conclusions on thoughts and process about a tobacco I actually paid very little attention to as I enjoyed it. The Balkan Delight doesn’t call unnecessary attention to itself. When there is little pretense or statement made by the act of smoking, sometimes it’s about the “right now” instead of the heady definition of what it actually is. It is these times that I actually find value of paying attention to the experience of the smoke itself rather than trying too hard to find the individual nuances, the key flavors and the artistry of the tobacco. Balkan Delight reminded me of another way to smoke tobacco, which is to make it part of what is going on at the moment, rather than the sole reason. Being at one with tobacco that is enhancing the moment by not being the focus is just as important. With all of the crazy trends and the public’s yearning of something new, I believe every smoker needs an honest “utility” tobacco that can simply get the job done and done well, perhaps throughout the day. This is a tobacco that will kindly, with spirit, go along for the ride.
In the end, I discovered simplicity is the secret behind this tobacco. It’s always refreshing when a detailed person must force himself to be content with what is, rather than forcing the abstractions of what he wants. Debates, expectations and terminology are unnecessary at times, and simple does not have to mean “boring,” and I for one cannot tolerate a neutered pipe tobacco. As such, Peterson’s Balkan Delight quickly became one of those rare, simple-yet-alive smokes for me, the guy whose pipe isn’t always in the corner of my mouth from dawn until dusk. When those times come when I really am getting into the smoke being a part of my whole day, be it for recreation or as a companion to manipulate the ticks of the clock in my favor, this tobacco became an effortless choice. I didn’t necessarily choose it, it chose me, and I allowed it to do so. This could be one of those new classics I spoke of earlier, something I could smoke and get into for the long haul. At this point I think I’d be sorely disappointed if twenty years later it had changed or disappeared, which sadly, is a fact throughout pipe tobacco history. In the meantime, though, it’s not even summer and I’m already looking forward to cooler weather with plenty of this tobacco in mind.
(Credits: Thank you to Anthony W. for use of his pipe for photography and “Trucker Rod” for insisting I try this tobacco!)
Written by Kevin Godbee
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When I first started with the pipe as a quirky and precocious teen, the only tutelage I had at my disposal were scenes from old movies in which a well dressed chap would stick his pipe into a pouch, scoop tobacco into the bowl and press it down unceremoniously with his thumb. Then, with great flourish, he’d strike a match and light the thing with all manner of cinematic excess, puffing up vast clouds of smoke falling just short of completely obscuring his visage. While it may look good on film, it’s a terrible approach to actually enjoying the thing. Somehow, though, this “technique” seems to have survived in the contemporary vernacular, at least to some extent, even with bit-loads of information handily at our fingertips that should dissuade us from the practice. But, at the time, this misguided approach was all I had; it’s no wonder my early days of puffing were fraught with difficult lighting, harsh, bitter smokes and tongue bite, all culminating in a fireproof mass of ye old soggy dottle in the bottom of the bowl. Ultimately, the resulting frustration made me give up the pipe, at least for a while. While the idea of it was still very appealing, the practice of it was not. It wasn’t until a few years later when, still full of curiosity and romantic notions of pipe smoking, I wandered into a real tobacconist’s shop, and learned my “method” was a long way from the techniques that would bring me to any sort of pipe smoking bliss. So, after my poor start, and under the guidance of someone who actually seemed to know how to do it right, I was given the opportunity to approach the process anew, this time with much greater success. 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Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 604. Our featured interview tonight is with Jon David Cole. JD is the Owner/Tobacconist at The Country Squire in Jackson, MS, and he is the former co-host of the podcast, Country Squire Radio, which ended their 10-year run last year. We’ll have JD with the “From the Country Squire” segment talking about all the new things happening at the store and in the business in general. At the top of the show, we’ll continue our audio tour of Brian’s pipe collection.
Before we begin, I should tell you: this tobacco review is being written by an A.I. Not the fancy new GPTs or their ilk; no, this is last century’s meat-and-bone, all-organic model. To be fair, a large part of what we call knowledge is merely the accumulated perceptions and impressions gathered from a life wandered through, synthesized into a spongy mass of what-it-is-that-we-think-that-we-know. The algorithm for this prompt is simple enough: pump thousands of bowls of smoldering plant matter into a gaping maw, cross-reference the chemical sensations with all other matter previously ingested or inhaled, sieve it all through the diffuse and fractal twin lens of memory and emotion, and churn out a panoply of adjectives that attempts to convey the sensations to someone who hasn’t experienced it yet. Odds are that a diligently trained monkey could succeed half the time; if this reviewer nears fifty-one percent then that would qualify as an unrivaled success. There must have been some similar musings perambulating through the mind of Per Jensen when he began his mad scientist routine at Sutliff with the Pipe Force project, which brings us to the current mixture under the microscope—Sutliff’s Pipe Force: Episode I. Here again are the unusual ingredients that engendered the series, with the stoved Rustica being the defining voice in this composition. From the tin: The Latakia-forward English mixture offers plenty of smoky flavor from the fire-cured leaf, which is artfully harmonized with floral, earthy Stoved Rustica. A mixture of high-grade Virginias imparts a natural sweetness. Katerini, the sole Oriental component, offers herb and spice notes bringing complexity and nuance to the flavor profile. It’s certainly Latakia-forward, with the stoved Rustica doubling up on the rhythm section like a second bassist. A first whiff from the tin releases the aromas of shoe leather and hide glue in a base of clay soil with a campfire wafted over it like last night’s beach party. Once it’s been accustomed to oxygen again, subtle hints of sweetness poke through from the Virginias: lemon rind, light milk chocolate, the dregs of a peaty Scotch, and muddled cherry. Old regulars like fresh-sawn oak and tilled earth are there, of course, with distinct notes of truffle, creosote, damp peat, and pine bark mulch. As an aside, I’ve been re-potting my camellias and the similarity of aroma to the ericaceous soil mix is notable; the Katerini really brings the unique depth of its vegetal complexion when supported by the Rustica and afforded more voice in the mix. The smoky Cyprian Latakia, in turn, is backed by equal earthiness from the Rustica, which overall exhibits a profile similar to dark-fired Kentucky; it leans more toward the woody and vegetal end of that spectrum, echoing and amplifying those traits of the other constituents. The tobacco is presented pressed and cut into a couple of thick, hearty flakes in the tin, lightly moist and easily crumbled to prepare—I prefer mine with a bit of drying time. The out-of-this-world tin art for this episode in the series is Major O’Meara smoking a cavalier. In the absence of confirmation, I’m going to hazard a guess he’s of the Ithklur species. The first taste from the light is sweet, with hints of that milk chocolate dancing around the edges. The Virginia leads the smoke through the top of the bowl, and orchestrates it well. Thoroughly smoky with lemony, grassy highlights from the Virginia spectrum, it soon segues into the mid-bowl profile: heartier, smokier, with the flavor leaning to the mildly acrid and tangy tinge that is the campfire-esque signature of English blends. Caution advised, it can turn overly bitter if pushed—this is where one’s sipping technique is required to maintain the fullness of flavor through to the heel. I did tend toward a lot of relights, though it may have as much to do with technique as with the blend. Pacing is also important as the nicotine starts to manifest; though the Rustica’s contribution has been tempered well by the stoving, it can certainly upend an empty stomach. At the end of every bowl, the mouthfeel somehow gets better. The balance of sugars in the tobaccos would seem to be spot-on in this regard. I started out my tasting in cobs, then cut short an unpleasant bowl in a meer, and finally landed on my best instrument with the lovely Dunhill 4427 pictured, a quaint group 4 shell briar with a gentle curve and Cumberland stem supporting a perfectly executed acorn bowl. It surprised me here, as I’ve learned through the years that I generally have the best experience with English blends in large, wide bowls. With this blend it seems that to get the best out of the Katerini’s somewhat diaphanous influence the smaller bowl fared much better. Room note is very English, so the company you keep will either love it or hate it, and it doesn’t linger too much. I find it paired best with a strong coffee; Sumatran beans complement the flavors well, as do Ethiopian if a lighter brew is preferred. Overall impressions of the blend are that it’s a curiously interesting take on the English genre, almost a reductive reconstruction of the theme using the unique components. This blend, if nothing else, expanded my vocabulary of sense perceptions with the uniquely treated leaf. While the average human can distinguish approximately one trillion (1,000,000,000,000!) different aromas, multiplied by seven basic tastes, and wholly dependent on variables from body chemistry to atmospheric conditions, our overworked and underpaid simian brains can’t effectively catalog them all. Our pet adding machines are exceedingly good at this, however, and someday soon they’ll be the ultimate and unequivocal authority on what something tastes, smells, looks, or even feels like. Until that time, friends, revel in the moments that can be stolen to savor over a bowl of Pipe Force: Episode I.
Seriously five-star review !! * * * * *
Wonderful review! Many thanks!
And a blend I will surely need to try!
Nice review. I love the Trinity. Virginia, Perique and Latakia. There are a few of these blends out there, and I’m stoked to try them all. My love affair with the Trinity, began with Sutlifs Court of St. James, moving on to C&D Buffalo Soldier, then discovering GL Pease Piccadilly. I prefer Buffalo Soldier because of the simplistic flavors. Piccadilly is nice, more refined than Buffalo Soldier, but similar. Petersons Balkan Delght sounds right up my alley. Buffalo Soldier is my all time favorite tobacco. I’ll fhave to see whether the Peterson’s Trinity can compete. P.