Kyle Weiss
Well-known member
- Joined
- Sep 18, 2011
- Messages
- 11,988
- Reaction score
- 7
I think it was Mr. Huggett that sent these to me many moons ago, because he's the only one that I know who used an old plastic punch-letter label maker to label ziplock bags. :lol:
James Fox Campanile - I reached for this little sealed jar, packed some time ago to prevent it from succumbing to the desert elements in a swift, dry death via plastic bag. I couldn't even remember who made it. The leaf was still a bit moist, and had a extra ordinary smell to it. It truly smelled ordinary, but a little more so. This is good, because I am starting to lean less toward Latakia and heavily pressed or twisted leaf where just the smell was enough to give a nicotine high. Loading was less than a chore, as was lighting, which was good--certain tobaccos, like Beck's Old Limey Bastard, needs a blob of thermide to get going properly, it seems. Lighting a tobacco shouldn't be too much of a hassle, especially while driving (and it's hard to explain weaving into oncoming traffic to an officer). There's something "alive" about Fox's Campanile--and I like it. Tobacco with a spine is something less to do with pungency and if the nicotine body-slams you to your chair or couch--it needs to taste like it was alive at one point. So much has been done to de-tobacco our tobacco in certain areas, anything with a breath of life in it, that it once took on water, breathed, reached for the sun during the day and got sweeter by the chill of moonlit nights... it's not just poetry, it's sensory. It's a leathery, somewhat thick, sweet and edgy smoke, but it has a tough time getting to the point. The sad part is I didn't get a lot of sensory conversation from the stuff. It was like a good prospective client in a business meeting...handshakes were firm, eyes were met, offerings and counterofferings were proper, and a bright future laid ahead...
...but never called you back to sign the deal. A fox in senses, cunning, tricky, and ran away when the dogs barked and the horns blared. A little bastard to either keep chasing or let it live another day. There's plenty of them out there.
James Fox Dorisco - Imagine if Campanile had a sister who liked to read Shakespeare and did roller derby on the weekends. Dorisco is her. She's milder, but yet more clearly responsive to what she wants. Unlike the business prospect who flaked out, she shows up. She's a little rough around the edges, and that's cool. She's not hiding anything. She's also not trying to be something she isn't. Dorisco smells even less impressive than Campanile when in the raw, but yet a little more stoic and firm when in the pipe. The taste is kind of like that, too. Campanile has some spice to it, and Dorisco is rosepetal smooth. There's a lot of subtle floral components to the tobacco, and it's as refreshing as it is satisfying. It's clean, clean, clean. Personally, I'm good with strong tobaccos or light tobaccos, as long as they can give you what you want after a hard day's work or a big meal. Smoking for smoking's sake, either out of boredom or false expectation really irritates me. It's a treat to smoke, whether it's done once a week or six times a day, and should deliver nearly every time. Dorisco can do this, and not leave you overwhelmed, unimpressed or needing three good toothbrushings because it's so thick (Warrior Plug being an example of the most mouth-lingering tobacco on the planet)...
...so she's a bit of a roughneck but doesn't mind putting on a silk neglige... fascinating. A true fox, indeed.
James Fox makes good tobacco. That generic conclusion leaves me feeling a little uneasy, because running middle-of-the-road is why I gave up on McClelland tobaccos. It's a production process as old as time: "...make it inoffensive, don't make it stand out, and the masses will comply." For the same reason every car these days looks like a Toyota Camry (...not that there's anything wrong with that...) and every chain breakfast joint looks like a Denny's. Most people want things to be predictable, acceptable by their peers and is easily consumed without much ado. It also comes with "snobbery in mediocrity," which means if one criticizes Camrys, Denny's and McClelland, it's obviously due to the fact the critic is an automatic contrarian, or refuses to blend into a crowd with forceful planning. There are, again, those of us who merely want something to stand out, and not only for the simple fact of standing out, but for a good reason--because it is good. It's the same reasoning used by those who swear by Moons Over My Hammy as the greatest, un-eclipseable culinary invention man has bestowed on gastronomy. Who am I to argue?
Consume what you enjoy, and I will, too.
8)
James Fox Campanile - I reached for this little sealed jar, packed some time ago to prevent it from succumbing to the desert elements in a swift, dry death via plastic bag. I couldn't even remember who made it. The leaf was still a bit moist, and had a extra ordinary smell to it. It truly smelled ordinary, but a little more so. This is good, because I am starting to lean less toward Latakia and heavily pressed or twisted leaf where just the smell was enough to give a nicotine high. Loading was less than a chore, as was lighting, which was good--certain tobaccos, like Beck's Old Limey Bastard, needs a blob of thermide to get going properly, it seems. Lighting a tobacco shouldn't be too much of a hassle, especially while driving (and it's hard to explain weaving into oncoming traffic to an officer). There's something "alive" about Fox's Campanile--and I like it. Tobacco with a spine is something less to do with pungency and if the nicotine body-slams you to your chair or couch--it needs to taste like it was alive at one point. So much has been done to de-tobacco our tobacco in certain areas, anything with a breath of life in it, that it once took on water, breathed, reached for the sun during the day and got sweeter by the chill of moonlit nights... it's not just poetry, it's sensory. It's a leathery, somewhat thick, sweet and edgy smoke, but it has a tough time getting to the point. The sad part is I didn't get a lot of sensory conversation from the stuff. It was like a good prospective client in a business meeting...handshakes were firm, eyes were met, offerings and counterofferings were proper, and a bright future laid ahead...
...but never called you back to sign the deal. A fox in senses, cunning, tricky, and ran away when the dogs barked and the horns blared. A little bastard to either keep chasing or let it live another day. There's plenty of them out there.
James Fox Dorisco - Imagine if Campanile had a sister who liked to read Shakespeare and did roller derby on the weekends. Dorisco is her. She's milder, but yet more clearly responsive to what she wants. Unlike the business prospect who flaked out, she shows up. She's a little rough around the edges, and that's cool. She's not hiding anything. She's also not trying to be something she isn't. Dorisco smells even less impressive than Campanile when in the raw, but yet a little more stoic and firm when in the pipe. The taste is kind of like that, too. Campanile has some spice to it, and Dorisco is rosepetal smooth. There's a lot of subtle floral components to the tobacco, and it's as refreshing as it is satisfying. It's clean, clean, clean. Personally, I'm good with strong tobaccos or light tobaccos, as long as they can give you what you want after a hard day's work or a big meal. Smoking for smoking's sake, either out of boredom or false expectation really irritates me. It's a treat to smoke, whether it's done once a week or six times a day, and should deliver nearly every time. Dorisco can do this, and not leave you overwhelmed, unimpressed or needing three good toothbrushings because it's so thick (Warrior Plug being an example of the most mouth-lingering tobacco on the planet)...
...so she's a bit of a roughneck but doesn't mind putting on a silk neglige... fascinating. A true fox, indeed.
James Fox makes good tobacco. That generic conclusion leaves me feeling a little uneasy, because running middle-of-the-road is why I gave up on McClelland tobaccos. It's a production process as old as time: "...make it inoffensive, don't make it stand out, and the masses will comply." For the same reason every car these days looks like a Toyota Camry (...not that there's anything wrong with that...) and every chain breakfast joint looks like a Denny's. Most people want things to be predictable, acceptable by their peers and is easily consumed without much ado. It also comes with "snobbery in mediocrity," which means if one criticizes Camrys, Denny's and McClelland, it's obviously due to the fact the critic is an automatic contrarian, or refuses to blend into a crowd with forceful planning. There are, again, those of us who merely want something to stand out, and not only for the simple fact of standing out, but for a good reason--because it is good. It's the same reasoning used by those who swear by Moons Over My Hammy as the greatest, un-eclipseable culinary invention man has bestowed on gastronomy. Who am I to argue?
Consume what you enjoy, and I will, too.
8)
