Kyle Weiss
Well-known member
- Joined
- Sep 18, 2011
- Messages
- 11,988
- Reaction score
- 7
Boy, this stuff caused waves with a lofty, heralded introduction by the New York Times, giving smokers and non-smokers a glimpse into a world they may never knew existed. I certainly didn't know what "Semois" was before then, and the plot only thickens--much like the smoke it can provide.
Two fine individuals around these parts, Todd Harris and Scotties, both were kind enough to surprise me with a sample of the leaf, which is quite difficult to get, so I understand. It just so happens I have an interest in trying tobacco, and lo, I owe a review and the daunting task of getting through a few bowls.
Most of you know I write "I just tried," reviews, which make grumble the seasoned veterans that all have their definitive amounts required to be smoked before a mixture or blend is "known." The problem is, between tastes changing, seasonally or overall, there's sometimes a case when there's just not enough tobacco on hand to really get a solid idea. We work with what we have, and trust our tongues and our instincts to guide us further. Plus, it means any writ I put forth toward this leaf will be in the shadows of some of the much better articles, research, history and reviews that have very recently come before it; no sense in re-paving the road.
Semois has one striking feature that is noticeable right away--the unburnt smell. It's a combination of a faint maduro cigar with lilies and honeysuckle flowers. There's tobaccos you can simply smell (more for the enjoyment of it as-is than a prelude to what is to come) and there's tobaccos you nasally absorb, as it entices the mind. This is by far the latter, and unto its own.
I'm not sure exactly how this tobacco is packaged from the makers/curers, but the dryness was something to overcome. My sample from Todd and Scotties were quite different, from the cut (Todd's sample was small, thin "curly-Q" vs Scotties' ribbon-like strans) and it makes me wonder if they were from two different places--though the smell is quite the same. Sadly, the sample Todd gave to me, I discovered today, went slightly moldy and had a strong tinge of ammonia. That's the first time I've had such a problem--ever. All I did was put the sample in a small, sealed glass jar. It tells me how natural and as-is the stuff happens to be. I considered putting a little moisture into Scotties' sample, but this made me think twice about that.
Five bowls in, and each in a different kind of pipe, two cobs and three reliable briars. Packing is extremely important here, because of the cut and the dryness. "Breathing" a little moisture via bowl helped the second time, and it burned a little better and provided some much-needed moisture for flavor transfer. This is a "sipping" tobacco if I ever had one. While easy, the rich smoke's flavors can get lost if it isn't treated gently.
The flavors are indeed fascinating. Depending on the pipe, tastes and tones are quite different. In a cob, everything from hints of honey-roasted peanuts to sage-like cigar leaf remained throughout. In fact, this tobacco smoked, reacted and tasted more of a curious, lightweight cigar than a pipe, but from unlike past experiments thinking I could simply put cigar leaf in a pipe and enjoy it, this was actually smokeable. Other pipes, especially briar provided more muted, but more honest flavors, ranging from delicately meaty and ham-like, to lightly waxy like a honeycomb. The natural, perceived sweetness is impressive, even from a sugar-phobe like myself--much how nutmeg and real cinnamon are sweet to the nose, but not the tongue. When the savory kicks in at the end (I haven't clued in on all the nuances), it's a great change of pace throughout the bowl(s). Nicotine is oncoming much like that of a cigar. Less cerebral and direct, more whole-body and lingering.
Due to it being extremely easy on the mouth overall, I was able to load back-to-back bowls--mostly because of the smaller bowls I usually employ, the springy tobacco smoked quickly even with more insistent packing methods (which kept the smoke cooler and more even-keeled). This also means my sample will be dwindling just as fast!
So...did I like it? Yes and no. While it appeals in certain areas, I had to get over the "rarity factor" quickly if I were to be honest with my time smoking. The tobacco lacks some expected dynamics. Having tried untreated, totally natural tobacco from Mark some time ago, which is best described as "solid foundation missing a few things," since Semois is similarly untreated and unprocessed, it's astonishingly good by comparison. It's completely different than any other tobacco I've tried to date. Simple with complexity to be found, it confused my preference for matured, pressed leaf. There's zero brightness, zing or "pop" one would find in certain Virginias, and lacks the body of aged tobacco. There's no nutty body as one would find in a good Burley. There's no spice of an Oriental, nor any pepper of a Perique. It's truly one of a kind. Thinking it might be better not playing solo, I'd have a hard time pairing it with any drink in particular due to its subtlety. Perhaps a nice cognac (which I had none on hand)...?
Subtlety, while I appreciate and enjoy, isn't always key. Semois lacks a solid foundation that perhaps I missed, and reminds me of a Fauvist Matisse painting...lots of colors, questionable definition. Some tobaccos have the personality of a brick wall, which can also appeal, and this is the opposite of that. Gentle and curious, with fascinating origins and story, I won't be selling a kidney to get the stuff, but it is an eye-opener. The purity while smoked and smell as-is becomes the real trophy, the experience of something truly different and uncommon was the biggest pleasure of all.
8)
Two fine individuals around these parts, Todd Harris and Scotties, both were kind enough to surprise me with a sample of the leaf, which is quite difficult to get, so I understand. It just so happens I have an interest in trying tobacco, and lo, I owe a review and the daunting task of getting through a few bowls.
Most of you know I write "I just tried," reviews, which make grumble the seasoned veterans that all have their definitive amounts required to be smoked before a mixture or blend is "known." The problem is, between tastes changing, seasonally or overall, there's sometimes a case when there's just not enough tobacco on hand to really get a solid idea. We work with what we have, and trust our tongues and our instincts to guide us further. Plus, it means any writ I put forth toward this leaf will be in the shadows of some of the much better articles, research, history and reviews that have very recently come before it; no sense in re-paving the road.
Semois has one striking feature that is noticeable right away--the unburnt smell. It's a combination of a faint maduro cigar with lilies and honeysuckle flowers. There's tobaccos you can simply smell (more for the enjoyment of it as-is than a prelude to what is to come) and there's tobaccos you nasally absorb, as it entices the mind. This is by far the latter, and unto its own.
I'm not sure exactly how this tobacco is packaged from the makers/curers, but the dryness was something to overcome. My sample from Todd and Scotties were quite different, from the cut (Todd's sample was small, thin "curly-Q" vs Scotties' ribbon-like strans) and it makes me wonder if they were from two different places--though the smell is quite the same. Sadly, the sample Todd gave to me, I discovered today, went slightly moldy and had a strong tinge of ammonia. That's the first time I've had such a problem--ever. All I did was put the sample in a small, sealed glass jar. It tells me how natural and as-is the stuff happens to be. I considered putting a little moisture into Scotties' sample, but this made me think twice about that.
Five bowls in, and each in a different kind of pipe, two cobs and three reliable briars. Packing is extremely important here, because of the cut and the dryness. "Breathing" a little moisture via bowl helped the second time, and it burned a little better and provided some much-needed moisture for flavor transfer. This is a "sipping" tobacco if I ever had one. While easy, the rich smoke's flavors can get lost if it isn't treated gently.
The flavors are indeed fascinating. Depending on the pipe, tastes and tones are quite different. In a cob, everything from hints of honey-roasted peanuts to sage-like cigar leaf remained throughout. In fact, this tobacco smoked, reacted and tasted more of a curious, lightweight cigar than a pipe, but from unlike past experiments thinking I could simply put cigar leaf in a pipe and enjoy it, this was actually smokeable. Other pipes, especially briar provided more muted, but more honest flavors, ranging from delicately meaty and ham-like, to lightly waxy like a honeycomb. The natural, perceived sweetness is impressive, even from a sugar-phobe like myself--much how nutmeg and real cinnamon are sweet to the nose, but not the tongue. When the savory kicks in at the end (I haven't clued in on all the nuances), it's a great change of pace throughout the bowl(s). Nicotine is oncoming much like that of a cigar. Less cerebral and direct, more whole-body and lingering.
Due to it being extremely easy on the mouth overall, I was able to load back-to-back bowls--mostly because of the smaller bowls I usually employ, the springy tobacco smoked quickly even with more insistent packing methods (which kept the smoke cooler and more even-keeled). This also means my sample will be dwindling just as fast!
So...did I like it? Yes and no. While it appeals in certain areas, I had to get over the "rarity factor" quickly if I were to be honest with my time smoking. The tobacco lacks some expected dynamics. Having tried untreated, totally natural tobacco from Mark some time ago, which is best described as "solid foundation missing a few things," since Semois is similarly untreated and unprocessed, it's astonishingly good by comparison. It's completely different than any other tobacco I've tried to date. Simple with complexity to be found, it confused my preference for matured, pressed leaf. There's zero brightness, zing or "pop" one would find in certain Virginias, and lacks the body of aged tobacco. There's no nutty body as one would find in a good Burley. There's no spice of an Oriental, nor any pepper of a Perique. It's truly one of a kind. Thinking it might be better not playing solo, I'd have a hard time pairing it with any drink in particular due to its subtlety. Perhaps a nice cognac (which I had none on hand)...?
Subtlety, while I appreciate and enjoy, isn't always key. Semois lacks a solid foundation that perhaps I missed, and reminds me of a Fauvist Matisse painting...lots of colors, questionable definition. Some tobaccos have the personality of a brick wall, which can also appeal, and this is the opposite of that. Gentle and curious, with fascinating origins and story, I won't be selling a kidney to get the stuff, but it is an eye-opener. The purity while smoked and smell as-is becomes the real trophy, the experience of something truly different and uncommon was the biggest pleasure of all.
8)