embossed-owl-meerschaum-pipe-2
Recent Posts
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 570! Our featured interview tonight is with James Conarroe. James is a caricaturist, father of five, and a self-described “Pizza Connoisseur” and “Follower of Christ”. This is the 12th in our series of interviews with “Journeymen Pipe Smokers” – guys that have been smoking pipes between five and 10 years. At the top of the show our segment will feature pipe artisan Jeff Gracik with another installment of “Ask the Pipemaker”.
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 569. Tonight’s show will break out of our usual format in honor of the late Japanese pipe artisan, Satou Smio. Satou made high-grade pipes that are works of art, and wonders in engineering at the same time. He was trained in both the Danish and Japanese styles of pipe making, and combined both skill-sets in his masterpiece pipes. “Satou Smio, pipe maker, aged 79, died on July 16th, 2023, following a prolonged illness. While not as prolific as in his earlier years, he continued to make pipes until a few months before his death.” – From: “A Legend Passes: Satou Smio”. The author of that post is Sykes Wilford, founder and CEO of SmokingPipes.com, and he will join Brian for a memoriam for Satou for the entire show. Satou was interviewed on the show back in May 2016 on episode 192 here. We will still have the end-of-show segments for music, mailbag and rant.
If you ever venture out to the mile-high city of Denver, Colo., and you are seeking a unique smoking experience (not in the sense of the word that rhymes with seed), travel five miles south to Englewood. It’s like one continuous sprawl from Denver. There you will encounter the Edward’s Pipe & Tobacco Shop sitting squarely at 3441 S. Broadway. On a recent visit to the mountains and plains of Colorado, the Pundit wandered over to Englewood and found this delightful and colorful pipe shop. This sort of square box store, roughly 3,000 square feet in size with a back door that reminds you of an old farm home, is quite possibly one of the oldest tobacco shops in the entire state. The building, says shop owner Nick Perry, was constructed sometime in the 1920s. Perry, 37, purchased the store about three years ago from its previous owner, Bryan Reid, and the last owner, Reid’s son, Bryn (cq) Reid. Perry, a mechanical engineer who said he worked in New Orleans, La., on the “drilling, exploration, and sales side of things.” He graduated from the Colorado School of Mines in 2009. “Born and raised in Lakewood, the first city west of Denver,” he said. He was an Edward’s customer for many years before he left “big oil to go to big tobacco.” His next entrepreneurial adventure, Perry says, will be his “trifecta. Big logging.” The Edwards shop has gone through many iterations in its 100-year-old history: from grocery, and appliance stores, to at one point a farrier shop. In 1969 the shop became an Edward’s Pipe Shop, switching from horses and hooves, perhaps, to pipes and tobacco. Today, the store sports two smoking parlors and a large outdoor patio where patrons can enjoy pipes and cigars. Cigars, by the way, account for about 70 percent of the shop’s business, Perry says. However, pipes and veteran blender Tom Young’s mixtures, some of which date to his beginnings with the shop in 1969, where he has been since its opening. When asked his age, Tom says, “I’m old enough to know better, but don’t!” And this note about Tom’s self-described shop title: “I’m the Colonel of the Urinal.” Enough on ages and titles. Perry says his shop is not connected to the old Edwards franchise, but the name was retained because it was so well known in the Denver metro area. “We do a very good pipe and tobacco business. And we are seeing the younger guys coming to it as new pipe smokers. It’s always good to get them converted to the pipe,” Perry says. Of course, one of the curious things about tobacco shops today in the state is the so-called “head” shops in which cannabis is sold legally. “You would not believe that people come in here and think we are a ‘head’ shop,” Perry says. No, he says, no glass pipes. No ‘weed.” “We send them down the road where there is no shortage of head shops.” Doc Thomas, 38, is the shop’s manager, master blender, and pipe repairman. He says the shops old oak floors are “nice and creaky.” He says the shop probably has one of the largest selections of pipes and tobacco products in the state. There is a large walk-in humidor in the main portion of the shop with shelves stuffed full of cigar boxes. Another huge humidor in the basement stores boxes of cigars to age for about one year. That’s not only to mature the cigars but also to acclimate the stogies to the mile-high altitude of the area. “If you get a cigar from Florida shipped here and open it,” says Doc. “It will almost explode.” Voila! Thus the aging and climatizing process are necessary. The walls are brick and overhead high wooden wall shelves brim with some long-ago tins no longer available. But there are Tom’s formula blends for Bishop’s Burley, Black Watch, the store’s top seller, Scottish Moor, a non-aromatic version, Buccaneer Black, English Supreme, Ed’s Oriental Supreme, and Good Companion. One of the shop’s fav Young blends, Doc says, is his Raspberry Creek blend, half-and-half raspberry, and peaches. And, Doc says, the shop does a comparatively good business with mail orders for Tom’s tobacco blends. “We have a Rolodex full of customers around the country,” he says. And just a bit on Edward’s Pipes and Tobaccos. I began smoking Edward’s while in college and later worked as a journalist in Atlanta. The Edward’s shop in the Big A was a delight. Free coffee, and a few tobaccos to try out. And of course walls of pipes, including Edward’s specially cured Algerian briar. I still have my Edwardian Canadian, one of the sweetest smoking pipes I have ever owned. Later after a move to Arkansas to run a small five-day-a-week newspaper, I was on a steady order for Edwards’ premier tobaccos. And, of course, more Edward’s pipes. Kevin, PipesMagazine.com publisher and founder, has an excellent story of how he was introduced to Edward’s Pipes and Tobaccos. And now, a notable pipe smoker of the past: Sir Alfred Joseph Hitchcock, was born Aug. 13, 1899, in Essex, England, and died April 29, 1980, in Los Angeles, Calif. He is famously known as the “Master of Suspense,” (think “Psycho” and “The Birds.”) It is thought the famed film director smoked Dunhill pipe blends. In 1980, the ailing Hitchcock was appointed a Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE). Quote: “Ideas come from everything.” ― Alfred Hitchcock
“Harry, I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have the definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.” –Special Agent Dale Cooper In my pre-coffee state of mind this lovely, blessedly cool morning, I wanted something a little different. I’ve been on a mostly steady diet of Virginia blends for a while, and wanted a change of pace. I grabbed a favorite pipe from the rack, well suited to the tobacco I’d chosen, a wonderful, well-aged, full Latakia mixture, packed the bowl, struck a flame, and experienced what can tactfully be described as an unexpectedly dreadful smoke, as though the fires of hell had engulfed the tobacco. Seriously. What happened? It’s safe to say that Latakia is one of, if not the most polarizing of tobacco types. Some love it, others loathe it; few seem to be indifferent. Those who enjoy its exotic nature might report that it reminds them of campfires, saddle leather, incense, peated whiskies or even stewed fruit. It can sometimes evoke black cardamom, anise, or amplify the delicate floral notes of oriental leaf when used in small quantities. Its detractors, on the other hand, might be inclined to use rather less complimentary descriptions like tire fires, creosote, brimstone, or burning camel poop, and can’t abide it in even the tiniest percentages. (Addressing that last thing, I’ve said many times that the only smoldering dung is that used to fuel the myths about Latakia. It’s actually a variety of herbs and woods that are used in the fumigation process, though I suppose the camel dung thing might be considered awkwardly poetic by some.) Personally, I’ve had a long and happy relationship with Latakia, and that continues to this day, especially in the cooler months. When the mercury rises, I do gravitate towards either lighter mixtures, or other types of blends entirely, but after all these years, my deep appreciation of this delightfully exotic leaf remains steadfast, and it isn’t likely to die anytime soon. I will reluctantly admit that if my first experience with Latakia mixtures had been similar to this morning’s, however, I might have been inclined to throw the whole kit in the fire and give up pipe smoking entirely, and that could be exactly why some people are so vehemently opposed to the stuff. Fortunately, my long history with both this blend and briar precludes one anomalous experience from catalyzing such rash behavior. Latakia is really one of the most fascinating of tobacco types, wonderfully aromatic and profoundly multi-faceted. As a subtle spice, it can add unique depth and dimension to a blend. In higher percentages, its assertive flavors and aromas make a bolder statement. And, yes, it can certainly have a tendency to steal the spotlight if used in large amounts, and very heavily laden blends can possess a sort of “sameness” that robs them of interestingness, but there’s a broad spectrum of mixtures between the extremes that I’ve always enjoyed exploring. But, what happened this morning? It wasn’t the pipe, and it certainly wasn’t the tobacco; both are reliably stellar performers, and generally get along famously with one another. The answer lies in two or three things that, in my decaffeinated state, I had neglected: The tobacco was too moist, I’d neglected to clean the pipe when I last put it up, and I was a bit too eager in my lighting. To age well, any tinned tobacco blend needs to have some moisture, but to deliver its best smoke, a Latakia mixture should be fairly dry. While Virginia blends rely on a bit of moisture to carry their sweetness through the smoke stream, that same moisture content can result in a harsh smoke with most mixtures. Also, it’s been my experience that Virginias are, in general, a bit more forgiving of a pipe that’s less than spotlessly clean. (There are some who believe, in fact, that Virginia blends actually improve if the shank is allowed to get a little tarred up. I won’t go that far, but caveat fumator.) Finally, while all tobaccos respond best to gentle lighting, this is especially true of Latakia mixtures. I know the smoky stuff isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. If you don’t like the stuff, or don’t think you do, but can maintain an open mind, I’d like to suggest trying a couple of things before casting all these wonderful blends into a personal oblivion. There are many “styles” of Latakia mixtures to explore. Some are structured on a foundation of Virginia leaf, others will present a richer orchestration with dominant oriental components, and some may have additional condiment tobaccos added, like perique or dark-fired Kentucky. Each has its own personality, and different styles suit different moods and different tastes. And, “fullness” has less to do with Latakia content than many believe. When blended with orientals, Latakia will tend to make a more powerful statement than when the same amount is blended solely with Virginias. Additionally, while these mixtures tend to be “strong” in flavor, they tend to be “mild” with respect to nicotine. So, if you haven’t tried a Latakia mixture and are curious about them, or if you have and had a less than wonderful experience with them, some tips that I found myself re-learning today might be of value, and a little exploration might lead you to a new favorite, or at least expand your repertoire a little. The mechanics are pretty simple. First, choose an appropriate pipe. I prefer smaller bowls in general, especially for more robust mixtures, and that’s where I’d start. If the pipe hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned, a few pipe cleaners lightly moistened with the alcohol of your choice, followed by a couple dry ones will get the shank ready for the new experience. (When I don’t have lab-grade ethanol on hand, I like the highest proof vodka I can find for this.) Then, let the tobacco dry out a bit more than you think is right. I’m not […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 568! Our featured interview tonight is with Jeremy McKenna. Jeremy is the President of the Sutliff Tobacco Company in Richmond, Virginia. Sutliff is one of the oldest American pipe tobacco makers at 174 years old. Jeremy has been with the company since 2015. Brian and Jeremy will be talking about the Birds of a Feather line, limited re-issues of old discontinued blends, small-batch tobacco runs, and more. At the top of the show, Brian will report on his pipe smoking trip to Smitty’s in Gainesville GA for their pipe show.
Of course the tin caught my eye, how could it not? I’ve oft-professed my love of Modern art, particularly the era of Cubism and Brutalism and Neo-Plasticism, going so far as to foist it on you good people of the pipe-smoking public on occasion – The Pipe in Art: Juan Gris. So what was this pastiche of color on the tobacconist’s shelf? A new GL Pease blend, you say? Not only that, but a plug-cut, Virginia-Oriental blend? And it’s called ‘géométrie’? Well, you had me at Cubism. Moving past the lovely artwork adorning géométrie, the second installment of the ‘Zeitgeist’ collection, the description on the tin tells me that I’m practically guaranteed to fall in love with this blend: Overlapping planes of vintage, sun-cured Basma and Izmir leaf reframe the malty, natural sweetness of mature red Virginias in this modern expression of the classical Virginia/ Oriental archetype. Aged in cakes to deepen and enrich the flavors, this structured, plug-cut tobacco is poised to engage and intrigue all of the senses. Basma is a variety I’ve been fond of for some considerable time, since obtaining a pound of it from a fellow named Mark Ryan many years back. What I found in Basma was the component I didn’t know I’d been looking for—it turned my Virginia and Virginia-Perique blends into veritable malted milkshakes of tobacco-flavored goodness, imparting in them new textures and frames of reference which I hadn’t known existed. For this reason I’ve always kept a jar of it on hand for home blending and dressing-up familiar blends to give them new life. The flavor profile of Basma when smoked by itself is lightly sweet, mild, and floral, but in the absence of other leaf to play off of (and regulate burn) it quickly devolves into a rather bitter bouquet; “too much of a good thing…” being pertinent advice here. However, when added in slight percentage to almost any blend, magic happens every time. Sweet, sugar-laden Virginia profiles at once become couched in a creamy aspect that rounds all the sharp edges yet still allows the original tobaccos to express their individual voices. Basma’s own floral sweet and sour notes prove to be the perfect adjunct to all the common flavors and aromas in many blends: filling them out, amplifying or tempering them, and imparting its own color and a wonderfully smooth mouthfeel. Take any old Virginia-based blend that has grown dull from repetition, add some Basma, and you’ve got magic on your hands; I’ve even gone so far as to commit heresy by mixing it with vintage Escudo—and consider it only an improvement on perfection. In géométrie it is a relatively minor player, primarily softening the Izmir and providing a soothing counterpoint to the Red Virginia. Izmir, also known as Smyrna, leaf is of course well-known as a base constituent, used in most cigarette blends; its name is practically synonymous with the ‘Oriental’ or ‘Turkish’ tobacco flavor that dominates that market and is a good percentage of the pipe blends spectrum. Sourced from the Aegean region whence it is named, grown in rocky volcanic soil with ample drainage, Izmir’s flavor profile tends toward a slightly sharper shade of sweet and sour; lightly floral yet tangy, somewhat woody and nutty, mildly acrid with resinous overtones—think frankincense and myrrh. It’s used here with meticulous proportion, meted out in just the right measure so as to shepherd but not to overwhelm the blend entirely. Together with the Basma, the Orientals control the burn, temper and direct the sweetness, enrich the earthy notes, and give the entire composition a cohesive character. Opening the fresh tin, evidence of the Virginias’ anaerobic fermentation dominate: deep raisin, the umami of ketchup, gumdrop, green grape must, and dry leather. From the Orientals there are hints of pine: fresh spruce sap on the sweet end and creosote on the sour end; the earthy aroma spectrum also evinces potting soil, marigold, and occasional honeysuckle highlights. After some days exposed to air, the plug’s bouquet is more melded, emanating essences bready and woody and nutty: cinnamon-raisin bagel, walnut shell, old leather, stale red wine. As the days went by, I noted the overall impression of the nose sweetened, softened, and yet gained nuance all the same—some new scent-impression would seem to appear every time the tin was opened for a whiff. In the bowl, géométrie is exactly the malty, tangy concoction I’d anticipated. To prepare it I first went for a cube cut, which gave an excellent feel for the overall composition, but little separation of flavors. I then sliced a few flakes, though their inconsistency is testament to my failing eyesight—slight rant here, but if Mr. Pease continues to come out with amazing plug tobaccos, he could at least have the decency to also start selling little tobacco guillotines to go with them. Nonetheless, the preparation proved to allow the interplay of those layers to really emerge and give the impressions that we’re going for. Again and again, when speaking of GL Pease blends, one marvels at the absolutely perfect balance that is struck with the mixtures. Everything in its place, and a place for everything. Though it took some tending, the smoke really opened up with a fold & stuff method. Flavors would come alive, lend their voice, and then recede; there was a dynamism and rhythm that was absent from the cube-cut bowls. Often the character of the smoke veered to the spicy hints of shade-leaf cigars, with notes of allspice, clay, and tannin. In a few moments of just leaning back to daydream about the smoke, it was easy to envision slow walks amongst dusty library stacks, and paint drying on canvas. Perhaps above everything else, this is an easy blend to smoke. Light, yet full of flavor; sweet, yet tempered with spicy sour; rich, yet smooth and dry on the palate. It has all the complexity and nuance for meditative, ruminative smokes, yet is mild enough for revisiting a few times in a day. […]
