I figured I had to go for #1 next. This was largely the same in control as yesterday, with Alex and myself smoking it, him lighting up first so I could detect and comment on room note, and the only thing that really changed was the pipe I used. He still used a Scott's Burner, whereas I smoked it in my new-ish meer workhorse poker.
I'd accidentally spoiled myself by reading these other posts and seeing that people have assumed that number one is some kind of McClelland. I've only ever tried a few of their blends, but to be frank, I haven't enjoyed any of them. I didn't get any that famous ketchup note off any of them either, though.
Be that as it may, I sliced open this packet and breathed deeply. The raisin-esque notes were still there, but these raising were sour, if not pungent. The only war waged in my mind was whether to call this note that of Heinz 57, or A1 steak sauce. I decided it was 57, with maybe a smidge of Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ. Not my thing. And not especially reminiscent of Red Virginia, as the scent of tobacco was being suffocated by whatever lay within.
Alex gave it a whiff and professed his love at once, so I was slightly taken aback. "But," I said in protest, "it doesn't smell anything like tobacco." He agreed but he said that, at the same rate, maybe that was what he liked about it.
Sliding the contents from the pouch, we found a crumble flake. (This is what I call any flake cut from a standard crumble cake rather than a hot press plug.) That immediately scrimped American origin, as C&D reigns supreme in this market nowadays.
The next thing we noticed... this shit was old. Not
presidential old, mind you, but this blend had been around the block and had stories to tell and crystallization to prove it. Having sampled 4 and 3 first, this provided quite a change of pace.
We stuffed the contents into these two small pipes and set them aflame - him first, of course. In my opinion, this was the least pleasant room note so far. It wasn't awful, but at the same rate, it was nondescript, an adjective I always hate to employ. You could tell it was tobacco, but it didn't have the bready feel that I associate with Virginia tobacco. And while the note was nowhere near disagreeable, I wouldn't seek it out.
"Man," Alex said, "I really like this already." It made me eager to light up and I did. From the start, what I tasted was orange zest, with a mild kick of a spicier cider. As a man who raw ferments my own cider every week, you'd think I meant that in a positive vein, but in some ways I didn't. I still couldn't understand... where's the taste of
tobacco? I guess I then understood how Greg Pease so often feels.
On the retro-hale... same thing. Orange, with a hint of mulling spices. I didn't detect ketchup, so maybe this isn't Mclelland. But still... where was the tobacco? Where was the Red Virginia? The longer I smoked, the more I got the feel I was smoking a Red VA, but even then, I felt like the primary (nay, the
only component leaf) was its own backup dancer. How was that even possible??
"I like this so much better than yesterday's (#3)," Alex said. Despite myself, I was almost angry. "I think I'd give it a four out of five." Was I missing something? I didn't say a word and kept toking away. Soon he was out. A few minutes later, I was too.
He told me he wished he could've tried the same blend about five years ago, telling me he felt it was past its prime. But man, if he could've tasted it in his prime, maybe this kind of blend would've made him more into pipes than cigars. (His recent trend is the opposite.) Once again... was I crazy?
"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "For me, this is a two out of five. Maybe a few years ago I'd have given it a three. But still... it's just a maybe."
