Smoking Some 65 Year Old Scottish Flake --- A Group Review

[cortezattic]

8O Huh?
Hoo-boy! Let the controversy begin! :lol:
It's hard to imagine a Scottish blend not having Latakia; and for me the age, muted smokiness, and salinity ices it.

Your experience with aged Latakia provides a valuable frame of reference, but consider that even a 25 yr. old tin is

still just a puppy compared to this stuff. 40 years more is ample time to erase Latakia's pungent signature, and

reduce it to a hazy blur. Alas, there is nothing more to offer than a smile to prove the existence of a Cheshire Cat.
I too am an erstwhile Latakia-phile who suddenly had an epiphany. These days I am very protective of my taste buds,

and I have become very sensitive to the smoky, oily demon. I cantstannit! :lol:
Hopefully others will weigh in on this, and maybe we can get a consensus. Who knows? Maybe somebody who knows

the ingredients of Scots Cake can inform us. I've been fooled before -- but that's my 2¢

 

[misterlowercase]

Alright,

now we're gettin' down to the nitty gritty!
Let's get Fred Hannafied up in here!

( intense dialogue )
I'm simply too unfamiliar with Lat, especially vintage Lat, to comment on that, although I will state that indeed I tasted those saline qualities, but no sort of soft woodsy smokiness really.
I can comment on Scottish blends being predominantly inclusive of Latakia though, and I would have to say nay.
I mean the most famous Scottish blend of all time sure didn't have none...

...and of the few other Bell's tins surviving, there ain't much evidence of a Lat blend, although I'm sure they had one I'd reckon.

I guess the term Scottish as applied to tobacco has always kinda been of an iffy definition, I think for the most part it should be parallel to gauging the British blends, that is, if it says Mixture then it's usually a Lat blend, I think that's pretty much how they made that distinction.
Of the 6 original Dobie's Four Square, only 2 were Lat mixes.

And some other Scottish tins show no evidence of being Lat mixtures, it seems up North they liked Golden Bar a lot, and also twists and plugs, and of course, flakes.

Just my 2d.
And now for something completely different...
Catching a ride with Greg Pease's purple giraffe and other astonishing tales of sensorial intrigue
Last night I smoked a half bowl of the Scots Cake, in the same Stanwell 19.
I wanted to take a different approach,

I decided to smoke it heavy like a gruff seaman with full face to the wind.
I puffed with vigor and it became fully stoked to steady smolder, but did not overheat and kept producing wave after wave of robust smoke --- I detected more of a density than when sipping, at one point I became light-headed, I think when this stuff was younger it displayed a much fuller body, and I'd guess that it also carried its flavor much more intensely.
I moved the pipe around a lot and at one point I sustained a repeated deep draw with the button about 5mm from the very tip of my tongue - I definitely got that periquey tingle, but none of that mordre faux (false bite) which usually will numb my tongue and obliviate my taste receptors - the fact that I could experience the tingle without that unwanted side effect caused me to continue tongue-tipping it close to button for a good long while, it was like an opium delirium, flavorfully mellow yet earth-shattering.
Retrohale with massive cloud gave the very distinct sensation of the talc that Michael was talking about, and I think this is an element I could not put my finger on earlier, but after reading about the scented talc it came all together in my neural network and not only pinpointed the aroma, but produced memories associated with that aroma. I don't think I've ever really "tasted" talc in tobacco, and I'm glad to have that footnote in my mental index.
I also got the flavor of what fresh party balloons smell like, sort of like that soft rubber, and it too triggered pathways of the past as well, it was quite strange actually, and enjoyable.
Smoking this tobacco puts me into a very relaxed meditative state.

:arrow: :idea: :!:

 

[misterlowercase]

Hey man, don't be so hard on youself.
When you wrote this:

I realized something I hadn't thought about before. I took up the pipe to remember my grandfather, but more and more moments like these are about building my own piping experiences.

...that's what it is all about dude.

For real.

By taking up the pipe to honor your grandfather, you initiated good karma cosmic payback, because your intentions were noble and good, the spirits in the smoke know this and our prayers are carried to heaven.
Don't ever feel intimidated by ten-dollar words or fancy jargon, most all of it is bullshit.
I never graduated high school, I'm so autodidactic that I mispronounce autodidactic

LOL

...it pushed me to prove myself, to show that formal training is only one piece of the puzzle.
Forgive me here, I must quote one of my cultural heroes at length,

Jean Dubuffet:

It’s a widespread idea that in looking at the artistic production of intellectuals we simultaneously behold the flower of the general production —since intellectuals, born of the common people, can hardly lack all their qualities — as well as those additional qualities acquired by long days spent wearing down their rumps on schoolchairs; not to mention that they think of themselves as quite intelligent by definition, much more intelligent than ordinary people. But is this the case? In fact, we also find many people who have a much less favorable idea of intellectuals.
Intellectuals appear to them to be directionless, opaque, vitamin deficient, swimmers in troubled waters.

De-energised. Demagnetised.

Lacking in clairvoyance.
It may be that the intellectual’s seated position breaks the circuit.The intellectual functions all too often sitting down : in school, at meetings, during conferences — always seated. Often dozing. Sometimes dead : dead in a chair.
Intelligence has often long been held in great esteem. When someone used to be described as intelligent, wasn’t that to say everything? But now it’s a different story, we begin to demand something else, and the influence of such intelligence is in marked decline. The preference now is for the effects of vitamins. We perceive that what was called intelligence actually consisted of a feeble savoir-faire in the handling of a certain simplistic, false, trifling algebra, having nothing at all to do with true clairvoyance, but rather with obscurantism.
We cannot deny that the intellectual hardly shines in the realm of clairvoyance. The imbecile — or the person so designated by the intellectuals — is much more disposed towards that. We might even say that schoolchairs wear down this clairvoyance along with one’s rump.
Imbecile he might be, but sparks emanate everywhere from him like static electricity from a cat’s fur — unlike Monsieur the Grammar Master, who emits no more sparks than an old wet rag.
So long live the imbecile! He’s our man!
What they should have done, our doctors in their little caps, is got their brains curetted. Then they would become good conductors of electricity, and a myriad eyes would sprout from the blood as in a wild man, eyes more useful than the eyeglasses they balance on their noses. These doctors should commit the great intellectual hara-kiri, the great leap into extra-lucid-imbecility — only then would they sprout those myriad eyes.
Of course there are still people (especially amongst the intellectuals) who have not yet become fully conscious of the illusory aspect of what is called intelligence, people who burst out laughing when someone claims that those deemed intelligent count for very little; while we, in complete lucidity, would rather count on those whom they call imbeciles. They don’t take such an idea at all seriously.
Intellectuals are infatuated with ideas, are great masticators of ideas, and cannot imagine that there are any types of gums to chew on other than ideas.
Well, art is precisely the sort of gum that has nothing to do with ideas, a fact often lost from sight. Ideas, and the algebra of ideas, is perhaps one path towards knowledge; but art is yet another means of understanding, whose ways are completely different — such are the paths of clairvoyance. This cares not for scholars and intellectuals, and knows nothing of these domains.
Knowledge and intelligence are puny flippers alongside clairvoyance.

What we're doing here is largely an academic exercise, an exercise in eccentricity.

An obsessive knitpicking.
In the UK there are plenty of pipemen who went their entire lives and only smoked one tobacco, and they might've been the happier for it. They were in an actuality, in a constant motion, a smooth fluidity, a living life, callused hands, hard times and vulgar language --- smoking to smoke and being content with what they had.
Usually what they had was something like Condor, a common pedestrian blend available at every cornerstore. Perhaps the sophisticated Londoners would sneer at such a fellow and label him a country rube, but it mattered not to the old pipeman, he was what they call a codger, and a proper codger don't fuck around with taking seriously what such effete nancyboys may utter.
There is smoke,

and there is True Smoke.
Always be true and you'll be okay.

:puffpipe:

 

[12pups]

Voorhees, you should kick yourself. Lowercase is even letting *me* review this stuff. If I said someone were 10 times the tobacco expert I was, it still wouldn't be a compliment yet, I'm that unworthy of this task. Maybe I should send you a little bit of the sample I received. It's quite unique, I think, and it's a wonderful thing to get to do this.
My sample came. And I took my mission very, very serious. Here's what I thought of it.
First thing this morning I opened the box I was sent, undid the wrapping and bubble wrap, unwrapped the red tissue paper and got to the ziplock with the foil wrapped sample.
I pushed my nose in the baggie, but was surprised: no fragrance. Nothing. But when I opened the foil and lifted the slices to my nose, oh it was fruity! Fruit. Definitely.
From deep in the bottom of the marshy bog of a brain I have, a memory stirred and shoved and bubbled its way to the surface. All my memory senses are tied to vignettes, images. And this one rolled up to the surface and turned itself right-side up with an image 25 years old, at least: Aunt Pearl's fruit cake. So that's why they call it cake, I thought.
But senses are mutable and deceivable. I wrapped it back up and took a shower. I came back, unwrapped it, inhaled its fragrance again. Yep, fruit cake. Then I wrapped it up again and set it aside. I was remembering Aunt Pearl's fruit cake, and I was for a little bit satisfied I'd hit it right. But by the time the dogs were let out and back in, and fed... I wasn't so sure anymore.
I unwrapped it again, and inhaled. No, not fruit cake. Not dense enough. Not heavy enough. Now I was only getting "prunes." Disappointed me a bit, because I was "wrong." I wrapped it up and set it aside. I had coffee and breakfast and started chores. Went to the hardware store. Installed a new bathroom window with a brand new insert I had waited three weeks for.
Then ... I went to unwrap it and smell it again. No. Not just prunes. There was something else, but I couldn't place it. Not quite leathery. Not fresh leather, anyway. Not sage. What is it? What is it? Couldn't place it. I pulled open random packs and tins of tobacco I have. Nothing like this one to compare it to. Even started opening up spices from the kitchen cupboard. Nope, none of them. Sage was too sweet. But this other smell is... grassy. Not fresh mown grass. Put up grass. Hay.
And that would become a theme when I lit it.
I finally chose my Falcon. It's easy to clean and it's easy to compare tobaccos. I would know what was different right away.
I took up one slice and broke it length-wise twice, rubbing the pieces between my fingers over the baggie. It was not moist but not completely dry. I couldn't pinch it together and make it stick, though. I began filling the bowl, letting it fall in and then lightly tamping it with my thumb to pack the top. Once again I lifted it to my nose: prunes, with that other, tobacco-y/mild leathery scent. And... licorice? Second sniff. Gone. But I thought for a second there was a hint of licorice. Now gone. I smelled my fingertips. Nope, just prunes.
I tested the draw. This would do, it's not too tight and not loose. It embraced the flame from a Bic lighter right away, dancing with it all around the bowl and wafting up smoke immediately. The char light raised the tobacco and I leveled it down lightly with my Winton spalted-wood tamper. True light, and no problem. It took right away. This tobacco welcomes flame.
At first, no taste. I drew in a good pull and felt for any bite, nothing. Then I settled in to sip and let the smoke pool in my mouth, bathe my tongue and palate. And wait to see what I would see.
In the darkness of my favorite little smoking alcove (other people call this a garage), I noticed how voluminous yet thin the smoke was. It's not a dense smoke, though there is ample smoke. From the bowl a constant curl of thin blue smoke. From my lips now and then the gray smoke leaving my mouth, rising before it.
I like watching the smoke. Have since I was a kid.
I think for the first time, I enjoyed the smoke from the bowl as much as from the bit. I should have used a shorter pipe. Would be a wonderful nose-warmer tobacco. The light fragrance coming up from the bowl, moving it slowly back and forth beneath my nostrils, delicate. Could not place it. Not cigarette smoke. Definitely not a cigar. Mild, subtly distinct. Its own.
Such a delicate taste, too. There was no nicotine hit from this, and I didn't miss it at all. I've had tobaccos that "didn't do anything." But even though nothing dramatic was happening, this was pleasant. Subtle. Fragile. I think if I ate or drank anything, it would overpower this tobacco. And I also started thinking, this is the tobacco I would like to start my uncle on. I would like this to be his first experience with a pipe tobacco.
A quarter bowl in, I was searching for the taste. The tip of my tongue had just enough contact now to know I was smoking a pipe, hint of tingle, but not enough to "place" the taste. So I pushed the tip of my tongue up against the back of my incisors and searched for the taste. That concentrated it quickly. Got it! Now searching my gums, the top of my palate, then pulling it away from my teeth. There it is -- a light, light sweetness. My teeth, after I've pulled my motorcycle gloves on with them. Just a hint of that taste.
I live on the tall grass prairie of upper Midwest. The heavy snow we just got is already melting away in the heat of this first warm day. As it leaves, it leaves behind a dust coating on the grass. The warm sun on the grass, the fine dust, the warming ground, the grass "remembering" what it is, though not yet greening. On the edge of something.
That's this tobacco to me. A prairie just waking up from winter. Long packed away. The morning of a Spring.
I didn't need my tamper much. This tobacco didn't expand as it burned down. But I did turn it over and let the ash layers sprinkle out. Three quarters of a bowl down I lost my light. Other tobaccos, I might not get a good smoke from this point on. But when I lightly tamped this one and relit it, it leapt to full light immediately and again teased my mouth with the subtle pleasantness. Soft, barely sweet, delicate taste just on the edge of being sweat and leather -- but not enough to call it sweat and leather.
When I lost my light the second time, I judged I didn't have enough worth lighting again. But when I knocked it out against my thigh, I felt a sense of loss to see the dottle. I wanted it all; I didn't like losing even a few shreds of this Cake.
I twisted off the bowl to study the humidome and was surprised to see a bit of moisture. This had been the coolest, driest smoke in my Falcon to date. The dottle had been dry. I had anticipated seeing my first completely dry humidome, so to see even this hint of moisture surprised me.
I set the pipe aside and left. The smoke left me craving coffee, and a rich cup of coffee was the perfect complement. Then I went back to the closed up garage, my nose now "fresh" to detect the room note. But... just as the taste had been mild and delicate, so was the room note. I could tell someone had smoked a pipe there. But sniff as much as I could, I could not name the scent. Pleasant, but so delicate.
There have been times when a woman passes by me in a hallway that my mind is "interrupted" by a light fragrance it can't place. My head jerks and my nostrils flare as I, distracted, try to sort it out. This tobacco is that way. It's enough to notice -- then it eludes me. And I can't get enough to judge it, place it, or memorize it.
Even now as I write this, that soft, delicate flavor is in my mouth, though it's been an hour since the smoke. And my coffee has been long gone.
Whatever it is, I like it. And the best part of getting to smoke a bowl of it is knowing that in that ziploc baggie, there's still some more.

 

[12pups]

Each of the kids here nodded after sniffing the tobacco in the foil and I suggested, "Hay?"
Yes. They said "raisins" first, but then the overtone -- yes yes -- it's sweet hay.
The lingering taste in my mouth, though, still just the hint of motorcycle gloves, as if I had just bit the cuffs to pull them on.
Now I'll go read the others.

 

[misterlowercase]

Joe - awesome stuff. There are many different approaches to take when doing a tobacco review, and I really enjoyed your version of things, it put me there with you, almost like reading a short story. Well done!
I liked the way how you kept smelling it at intermittent points throughout the day, and how your interpretation may have a subtle shift, or evoke certain memories, or set your visual innersphere off to conjure images.

But senses are mutable and deceivable.

Ain't that the truth?

And nature is in the habit of concealing herself, presenting one outward appearance, but hiding some of the true character, and shifting like sands on an infinite beach along an ever-amorphous ocean.

Even started opening up spices from the kitchen cupboard.

That was a smart thing to do, and a good strategy. Something I hadn't thought of. Something I will experiment with in the future. Thanks.

I took up one slice and broke it length-wise twice, rubbing the pieces between my fingers over the baggie. It was not moist but not completely dry. I couldn't pinch it together and make it stick, though. I began filling the bowl, letting it fall in and then lightly tamping it with my thumb to pack the top. Once again I lifted it to my nose: prunes, with that other, tobacco-y/mild leathery scent. And... licorice? Second sniff. Gone. But I thought for a second there was a hint of licorice. Now gone. I smelled my fingertips. Nope, just prunes.

I got those fleeting ephemeral qualities too.

In the darkness of my favorite little smoking alcove (other people call this a garage)...

LOL good stuff!

... I noticed how voluminous yet thin the smoke was. It's not a dense smoke, though there is ample smoke. From the bowl a constant curl of thin blue smoke. From my lips now and then the gray smoke leaving my mouth, rising before it.
I like watching the smoke. Have since I was a kid.
I think for the first time, I enjoyed the smoke from the bowl as much as from the bit. I should have used a shorter pipe. Would be a wonderful nose-warmer tobacco. The light fragrance coming up from the bowl, moving it slowly back and forth beneath my nostrils, delicate. Could not place it.

I very much enjoyed that smoke as well, a delicate velvet, hovering smoke rings in a still room finally reaching the wall and expanding outward into dissipating oblivion --- I was mesmerized.

Such a delicate taste, too. There was no nicotine hit from this, and I didn't miss it at all. I've had tobaccos that "didn't do anything." But even though nothing dramatic was happening, this was pleasant. Subtle. Fragile.

For me too, delicate, subtle, yet oddly robust somehow - that it was perplexes me.

A quarter bowl in, I was searching for the taste. The tip of my tongue had just enough contact now to know I was smoking a pipe, hint of tingle, but not enough to "place" the taste. So I pushed the tip of my tongue up against the back of my incisors and searched for the taste. That concentrated it quickly. Got it! Now searching my gums, the top of my palate, then pulling it away from my teeth. There it is -- a light, light sweetness. My teeth, after I've pulled my motorcycle gloves on with them. Just a hint of that taste.

Excellent imagery and I love the bit about the motorcycle gloves, cool.

I live on the tall grass prairie of upper Midwest. The heavy snow we just got is already melting away in the heat of this first warm day. As it leaves, it leaves behind a dust coating on the grass. The warm sun on the grass, the fine dust, the warming ground, the grass "remembering" what it is, though not yet greening. On the edge of something.
That's this tobacco to me. A prairie just waking up from winter. Long packed away. The morning of a Spring.

Beautiful.

That description carries alotta weight, I like it.

But when I lightly tamped this one and relit it, it leapt to full light immediately and again teased my mouth with the subtle pleasantness. Soft, barely sweet, delicate taste just on the edge of being sweat and leather -- but not enough to call it sweat and leather.

This tobacco burns effortlessly, it seems to me.

I twisted off the bowl to study the humidome and was surprised to see a bit of moisture. This had been the coolest, driest smoke in my Falcon to date. The dottle had been dry. I had anticipated seeing my first completely dry humidome, so to see even this hint of moisture surprised me.

Wow, the coolest and driest of all time?

Neat.

I set the pipe aside and left. The smoke left me craving coffee, and a rich cup of coffee was the perfect complement. Then I went back to the closed up garage, my nose now "fresh" to detect the room note. But... just as the taste had been mild and delicate, so was the room note. I could tell someone had smoked a pipe there. But sniff as much as I could, I could not name the scent. Pleasant, but so delicate.
There have been times when a woman passes by me in a hallway that my mind is "interrupted" by a light fragrance it can't place. My head jerks and my nostrils flare as I, distracted, try to sort it out. This tobacco is that way. It's enough to notice -- then it eludes me. And I can't get enough to judge it, place it, or memorize it.
Even now as I write this, that soft, delicate flavor is in my mouth, though it's been an hour since the smoke. And my coffee has been long gone.

Yet again, another most excellent description, and now that you mention it, the baccie does seem to exhibit some feminine traits, the softness and somehow an intense warmth, a mysterious sweet tone, lovely stuff.
Thanks for taking the time Joe, and for writing so well about your experience.
Reading it made a visceral impact and I very much enjoyed it all.
Enjoy the rest of it in happiness and good health!

:puffpipe:

 

[cortezattic]

Joe! What a great review! You captured a whole other dimension in the experience this blend creates. What insight!

And like Troy, I was drawn into the experience by your writing -- re-living my encounter, and relating fully to yours.

The warm sun on the grass, the fine dust, the warming ground, the grass "remembering" what it is...

:lol: 'Thought I was reading Faulkner, there for a second! :clap:

 

[12pups]

They should change the name after a certain decade of aging from "Cake" to "Resurrection." What a great smoke for Easter.
This is tobacco that has woken in a new century, stretches itself out, and with hazy eyes, starts to take in the new world, alive again but moving slow and deliberate.
Maturity.

 

[misterlowercase]

No doubt Joe.
Well put.

 

[cortezattic]

A Rip Van Winkle tin that slept through a lot of historical events since it was sealed.
It's fun to recall any one of the events of my life,

Any given day that I can still see in my mind's eye,

And consider that this tin was then sitting somewhere,

Waiting patiently for the day I was to smoke it.

 

[papipeguy]

First of all, I want to thank Troy for the wonderful opportunity to participate in this project. To experience a pipe tobacco older than I am (by 3 years) is an extraordinary thing.

I intend this to be Part I of my review. I'll explain more later.

I received the flakes last week and took the package with me to the B&M. My good friend and owner of Tobacco Village in Whitehall, Pa is Ron Kern. Ron is a very experienced pipe man and between the two of us we have 88 years of pipe smoking.

Before loading our pipes we spent about 30 minutes examining the flake and discussing our initial impressions and what we thought we knew about pipe tobacco production in Scotland at the time. So here we go.

First Impressions

The flakes were in very good condition and were pliable.

We both detected an overall fruit nose akin to raisins and/or figs

Ron thought he picked up a bit of latakia

We both thought we also sensed some perique as well as possibly some Orientals and/or Turkish
We discussed what we thought Scottish blenders used 60 years ago in the make-up of Scots cake. Virginias for sure and many tended to use Cavendish. British tobacco laws were very specific about what could be used to flavor blends and we doubted that any artificial toppings were used. From reading the label on the tins pictured by Troy it said that this blend was enjoyed by mariners the world over. This prompted us to consider whether or not rum may have been used. Ron said it was not unusual for producers to store tobacco in rum barrels for aging. It seemed to us that whenever seamen are mentioned rum is never far away but it was just us tossing ideas around.
The Pipes and Smoking

We were fairly parsimonious with loading our pipes using only 2 flakes each. I had my Jarl Ribbon, which has a small bowl, and Ron had a James Upshall bent Dublin.

It's hard to imagine how many iterations this went through in the tin over 65 years but we are sure that what we smoked was very different from what a fresh tin was at the time.

Ron still insisted that he got a wisp of latakia. I did not. We both did detect a sweetness that went beyond the usual attributed to just the Virginias.

Curiously, we both smelled the bowls of our pipes and were pliantly surprised to smell something sweet and akin to baby powder.

What would give this effect? We talked about it for some time and wracked our brains then it came to me- Tonquin Bean. When I got home I sniffed the jar that I have some SG 1792 and I'm reasonably convinced that it what I picked up. Tonquin is used today as a vanilla substute so that could account for the sweetness.

The overall smoking experience was quite enjoyable and we savored every moment.
Part II

As I mentioned earlier I want to add one more step to this experience. Our pipe club meets the 4th Monday of every month. Often one of the attendees is a famous blender known to everyone on the forum. Additionally, another member is an iconic member of the Morley's Pipe Club and knows more about blends than anyone I know. If they are at the next meeting I will ask them to sample and comment on Scots Cake. I'll include their analysis after that meeting.
Saying this is a fun undertaking is an understatement. It is a blast and an honor to be included. Thanks again, Troy.
More later in the month.

 

[misterlowercase]

John - wow! I really really like the approach you took, very nice.

My good friend and owner of Tobacco Village in Whitehall, Pa is Ron Kern. Ron is a very experienced pipe man and between the two of us we have 88 years of pipe smoking.

Before loading our pipes we spent about 30 minutes examining the flake and discussing our initial impressions and what we thought we knew about pipe tobacco production in Scotland at the time.

That's a lot of time and experience right there, the kind of knowledge that can only be gained with hardwon firsthand experience. I like how y'all took the time visually inspecting and discussing the flakes too, that's awesome.

First Impressions

The flakes were in very good condition and were pliable.

We both detected an overall fruit nose akin to raisins and/or figs

Ron thought he picked up a bit of latakia

We both thought we also sensed some perique as well as possibly some Orientals and/or Turkish

Okay,

Larry has another vote for Latakia, the plot thickens.

And also perique, it's really tricky to tell, but it sure seems like its in there to me.

From reading the label on the tins pictured by Troy it said that this blend was enjoyed by mariners the world over. This prompted us to consider whether or not rum may have been used. Ron said it was not unusual for producers to store tobacco in rum barrels for aging. It seemed to us that whenever seamen are mentioned rum is never far away but it was just us tossing ideas around.

Yeah, it does seem that they were marketing it as a sort of Navy Flake, and that would suggest rum or something similar, I have absolutely no experience with an aged alcohol topped tobacco, so I can have no definitive answer.

Curiously, we both smelled the bowls of our pipes and were pliantly surprised to smell something sweet and akin to baby powder.

What would give this effect? We talked about it for some time and wracked our brains then it came to me- Tonquin Bean. When I got home I sniffed the jar that I have some SG 1792 and I'm reasonably convinced that it what I picked up. Tonquin is used today as a vanilla substute so that could account for the sweetness.

A great observation, Wes suggested this also, and Micheal suggested talc, so it all comes together.

We're getting closer.

As I mentioned earlier I want to add one more step to this experience. Our pipe club meets the 4th Monday of every month. Often one of the attendees is a famous blender known to everyone on the forum. Additionally, another member is an iconic member of the Morley's Pipe Club and knows more about blends than anyone I know. If they are at the next meeting I will ask them to sample and comment on Scots Cake. I'll include their analysis after that meeting.

Now this will be downright incredible!!!!!

Thank you so much John for showing a selfless enthusiasm.

I'm really eager to hear what a master blender would say, just wowzers.
My many thanks to you for taking the time and approaching this in the manner that you chose.

I find it all highly interesting, and your tasting notes help us get closer to a rough idea of what exactly went in this stuff, it may forever remain a mystery in the end, but it sure is fun reading about all the different perceptions involved!
Cheers!

:puffpipe:

 

[papipeguy]

I smoked another 2 flakes in my Pioneer black bent meer and it just confirmed my earlier impressions. This has been a very cool experience.

 

[misterlowercase]

So,

that's 7 people myself included that have had good experiences with it.
5 more to go.
Still more to come.
Additional fine reading ahead.

 

[ssjones]

I'll anxiously await Les' comments, he's smoked just about every blend known to mankind and has one of the most discerning palates of any pipe I know.

 

[papipeguy]

Geez, Al; you gave away half of the surprise.

 

[ssjones]

Yikes, sorry John & deleted!

 

[papipeguy]

No big deal, Al. I was just kidding. Les is a natural choice in this case.

 

[flakyjakey]

“Smelly Old Jock”
Troy, I am deeply grateful to you for including me in your illustrious band of tasters. This sample is four years older than me, and it is interesting to note that in 1949 my dad was still at sea working as a marine engineer for Cunard. He was a pipe smoker and I know that his favourite blends were St Bruno, Ogden’s Walnut Flake, Irish Slices and Bulwark, flakes I cut my teeth on when I started smoking the pipe on his death, fourteen years ago.
As you know I have lived in ‘Auld Reekie’ most of my life, and Edinburgh’s Port of Leith is only five miles from where I now sit. So it is especially poignant that a sample of tobacco from this defunct company has winged its way back here in the strangest of fashions! So I hope you don’t mind me giving it this affectionate nickname? It is just the sort of baccy an old Edinburgh ‘Jakey’ might smoke.
‘Porteous’ is a famous and distinguished Edinburgh family name, shared by my one of my eminent colleagues who is an internationally-renowned geneticist.
Before reviewing this ancient blend I decided, for fun, that I would not read or be influenced by any of the other reviews. I tasted it ‘blind’.
As is my habit I decided to smoke it first in a new clay pipe, which neither adds nor subtracts from the inherent flavours, but which brings out the ‘high’ notes rather than the ‘bass’ notes – clays are not kind, but they are impartial. Out of our friendship I was also determined to be objective, not ‘kind’.
I decided that the second smoke would be in a 50’s Charatan “Selected” straight billiard that I reserve for Vas and Va blends, a pipe about the same age as the tin.
THE TOBACCO:
It came after its long journey wrapped in tin foil in a plastic ‘baggie’ which was not sealed. The flakes were a dark grey/brown and had a white surface sediment that did not seem crystalline or granular. I was not sure it was ‘bloom’, as I know it. The Flakes were VERY dry, but I resisted the temptation artificially to rehydrate them knowing that the H2O of combustion would moisten them during the smoke.
I smelled the tobacco (as I would normally do) after rubbing it out. I immediately thought “Bulwark”, “St Bruno” – certainly an old-fashioned British blend!! There was also a musty smell; almost, but not quite, mouldy.
IN THE CLAY:
The tobacco took easily to the flame and burned uniformly throughout the bowl. At first the smoke was a little flat, but then the Va kicked in – dry and a bit sweet – very like Bulwark! But there was still a background mustiness which did not remove the pleasure, but perhaps reduced it a little. From my wine tasting hobby the analogy might be a wine that is not ‘corked’ but which has the faintest cork ‘taint’. In the second half of the smoke the Va became richer, and the ‘taint’ less. I am unsure what other tobaccos may have been in this blend – their influences could have waned with age or with travel across the pond. I could well believe that there may have at one time have been some Perique, or even the slight residual smokiness of Latakia, but what remains IMO is the taste of the most old-fashioned of old British Va blends. Whatever, and again very like Bulwark, it is VERY slow burning – I can’t remember a smoke in one of my clays lasting as long!
IN THE BRIAR:
As soon as I lit it the blend screamed “Bulwark”, “Irish Slices”, “Ogden’s Walnut Flake”. The seasoned briar seemed to have damped down the musty note, and I settled in to a lovely old-fashioned smoke. There wer hints of your favourite “St Bruno” – with even some fruity notes creeping in. But had you told me that it was a sample of a very old Bulwark I would have believed you to the hilt. The final third was a lovely smoke in a pipe that could have been made just for it!!
Troy, thank you for a wonderful tobacco-tasting experience; for many reasons it will live long in the memory.

 

[misterlowercase]

Chris!
I'm so glad this stuff was able to find its way back to ‘Auld Reekie’!
Your input is invaluable, and has proven to be of great interest.

“Smelly Old Jock”
So I hope you don’t mind me giving it this affectionate nickname? It is just the sort of baccy an old Edinburgh ‘Jakey’ might smoke.

LOL

That's a grand moniker!

This sample is four years older than me, and it is interesting to note that in 1949 my dad was still at sea working as a marine engineer for Cunard. He was a pipe smoker and I know that his favourite blends were St Bruno, Ogden’s Walnut Flake, Irish Slices and Bulwark, flakes I cut my teeth on when I started smoking the pipe on his death, fourteen years ago.

Perhaps your dad picked up a tin of this stuff at one time? It must've been around there. I knew you were well familiar with stuff like this and would be able to nail it.

As you know I have lived in ‘Auld Reekie’ most of my life, and Edinburgh’s Port of Leith is only five miles from where I now sit. So it is especially poignant that a sample of tobacco from this defunct company has winged its way back here in the strangest of fashions!

No doubt, I am so glad to have the honor of 'sending it inna bottle' back to its home port.

‘Porteous’ is a famous and distinguished Edinburgh family name, shared by my one of my eminent colleagues who is an internationally-renowned geneticist.

Interesting, and what of poor 'ol Thomson?

As is my habit I decided to smoke it first in a new clay pipe, which neither adds nor subtracts from the inherent flavours, but which brings out the ‘high’ notes rather than the ‘bass’ notes – clays are not kind, but they are impartial. Out of our friendship I was also determined to be objective, not ‘kind’.

I very much appreciate that, and I like how you first used a clay to sample it, somehow it seems like a proper fit, that.

It came after its long journey wrapped in tin foil in a plastic ‘baggie’ which was not sealed. The flakes were a dark grey/brown and had a white surface sediment that did not seem crystalline or granular. I was not sure it was ‘bloom’, as I know it. The Flakes were VERY dry, but I resisted the temptation artificially to rehydrate them knowing that the H2O of combustion would moisten them during the smoke.

Dammit man, my apologies, I should have double bagged it or something, I wish it had arrived still in its slightly pliable state --- and what, no electron microscope???? We need to see the bloom magg'd 250X !!!

I smelled the tobacco (as I would normally do) after rubbing it out. I immediately thought “Bulwark”, “St Bruno” – certainly an old-fashioned British blend!! There was also a musty smell; almost, but not quite, mouldy.

Great to hear that it conjured those comparisons, I missed those familial elements on the first go round.

The tobacco took easily to the flame and burned uniformly throughout the bowl. At first the smoke was a little flat, but then the Va kicked in – dry and a bit sweet – very like Bulwark!

Wes said that too!

But there was still a background mustiness which did not remove the pleasure, but perhaps reduced it a little. From my wine tasting hobby the analogy might be a wine that is not ‘corked’ but which has the faintest cork ‘taint’.

That makes sense to me, thanks for sharing that aspect and analogy.

I am unsure what other tobaccos may have been in this blend – their influences could have waned with age or with travel across the pond. I could well believe that there may have at one time have been some Perique, or even the slight residual smokiness of Latakia, but what remains IMO is the taste of the most old-fashioned of old British Va blends.

That's the 3rd vote for Lat inclusion, and yep, it is hard to pinpoint precise profiles, everything seems pretty well seamlessly melded together at this point --- I wish the now-fashioned was more old-fashioned, there doesn't seem to be much choice on the market that come close to the olde flavored Va UK stuff.

Whatever, and again very like Bulwark, it is VERY slow burning – I can’t remember a smoke in one of my clays lasting as long!

Same here, a nice long slow smoke.

As soon as I lit it the blend screamed “Bulwark”, “Irish Slices”, “Ogden’s Walnut Flake”.

Bless the briars!

Wow, it made an impressive impact there!

The seasoned briar seemed to have damped down the musty note, and I settled in to a lovely old-fashioned smoke. There wer hints of your favourite “St Bruno” – with even some fruity notes creeping in.

I agree with the St. Bruno dark-fruitiness hints, but I ain't never tasted anything with the depths of fruit from that old stuff, really makes me wish we hadn't lost these blenders to the ages, they knew so much, especially about preparing complex casings and perfectly matching fine leaf with it.

But had you told me that it was a sample of a very old Bulwark I would have believed you to the hilt.

Wow!

How different was Wills's Bulwark of old as compared to the current Danish stuff, is the new stuff fairly accurate at emulating the way it used to taste?

The final third was a lovely smoke in a pipe that could have been made just for it!!

Charatan magic!
Glad to hear you enjoyed it,

and thank you so much for your time and thoughtfulness on contemplating this Smelly Old Jock and writing so well about it, you've filled in some crucial gaps for sure.
Your firsthand experience with traditional UK baccie is priceless, and your abilities to discern pipe tobacco in general is keenly refined,

I appreciate it all so much!
:puffpipe: