I'm no marketing sheep. No one is going to tell me what to like or hate. I'm too smart for that. I only smoke tobaccos that everyone hates. ::
I would agree with this. If the review sounds like a medical test I have to laugh.If anything, some tool's self-important thesis of a review will make me avoid it instead of try it.
I believe this to be very true, and it helps you find the flavors yourself. If you don't have a very trained palette yet, find a tobacco, go to Tobaccoreviews.com and find the very first review... this usually happens to be Jiminks because he has reviewed every single blend ever created (someone tell me I'm wrong) ....and then while you are smoking that blend, try to find those flavors yourself. You may get it, you may not. You might get something else entirely, as palettes vary from one person to the next. Jim may taste coffee in a blend where I might detect cocoa... or Kentucky Fried Chicken (damn that sounds good right now!) To this day I swear I taste cocoa in McClelland Blue Mountain, but I don't believe I've ever seen anyone else ever mention it.I think that reading reviews and discussing tobaccos with other people gives new smokers a vocabulary to discern flavors in the smoke—grassy, hay-like, dark fruit, leather, campfire, woodsy.
I've probably smoked four or five bowls of Lakeland tobacco. I wouldn't call it bias, disgusting is more appropriate. I decided if I felt the need to taste Lakeland again, I'd shove a cheap cigar up my dogs butt, wipe it down with dish soap and smoke it. Same taste result, cheaper.As an example, I tried very hard to love Lakeland tobaccos (confirmation bias). I kept at it and knew I would enjoy them eventually based on what I had read and thought I wanted. But eventually my heart told me to knock it off. The bias eventually wore off and I moved on (I hate full Lakelands and I freely admit it now).
I'd shove a cheap cigar up my dogs butt, wipe it down with dish soap and smoke it.
I can just imagine the conversation now...shove a cheap cigar up my dogs butt,