Kapnismologist
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Just posted the following review on TR. Reproduced here for your edification:
Dream Castle Tobacco Company - Super Value Black Cavendish
Sometimes I think that Altadis blends are distributed solely through sample packs, because it is nearly impossible to imagine anyone in their right mind willfully choosing to purchase concoctions with names such as ‘Super Value Black Cavendish’ with the expectation such a pouch would contain the makings of a pleasurable experience. Furthermore, the very fact that the blend proclaims itself to be comprised of ‘All Natural Tobacco’ (is there such a thing as ‘artificial’ tobacco and if so from what is it made?) and that it is, and I quote, "cool smoking, even burning without the bite!" (yes, an exclamation point is actually used on the label) should furnish sufficient warning to steer clear.
Therefore, when a 1.5 oz. pouch of the stuff showed up (uninvited, mind you) in a recent order from an otherwise quite reputable online tobacconist, I was faced with something of a dilemma. Giving the unopened pouch an initial sniff, I quickly determined that I had four options in front of me. First, I could simply toss it is the trash and move on to sampling the new tin of GLP Westminster which was in the box, or that inviting tin of the recently released McClelland-Gage retrofit Three Oaks Original, or that dashing tin of 2009 Christmas Cheer, or even chose to dip into that four ounce bag of a rather scrumptious looking VaPer flake which had come along for the ride. Nope, I’ll get to those later – first I have to deal with this conundrum. Second, I could put the pouch in a drawer and pass it along later to some poor unfortunate soul with an empty pipe and a big grin, but after a moment realized that if the law of karma does indeed exist then I might be in for some trouble down the line. I decided not to chance it. Third, I could simply go out front and dump the contents into the flower bed, but then how would I explain to my wife that I may well have been the one responsible for killing those lovely petunias? I thought it best not to risk it. Fourth, I could open up the pouch and give it a whirl. What is the worst that could happen? After all, it is ‘All Natural Tobacco’ distributed by an outfit calling themselves Dream Castle. I mean, come on, natural tobacco, castles, and dreams – what’s not to like?
So, my mind was made up. I was going to smoke it.
For what I assumed would be a Dante-like descent into a pit of ever more horrific sights, sounds, and smells a suitable pipe was chosen: an old Yello-Bole Brylon (yes, ‘Brylon’, it is a manufactured composite of nylon and briar dust) whose bright yellow chamber coating had all but flaked off save near the heel and a bit into the shank. For after all, you did not think I would take a Radice from the rack for sampling this blend, did you? No, just as one is advised to, say, use a flute for champagne and a snifter for brandy, Brylon and Super Value Black Cavendish seemed a good pair – the vessel should complement its contents, shouldn’t it? It was either that or go up the street to the cigarette shop and grab a small Chinese made cob for a buck-fifty, because I did not want to risk fouling those nice Missouri Meerschaums which I enjoy so much. Since no one would ever take the Yello-Bole off my hands, and because I cannot justify throwing away a perfectly good pipe (even one composed of Brylon), this is where it landed.
While the heady aroma of the blend is quite noticeable at arm’s length, opening the pouch and giving it a good, long whiff was quite the experience. The pouch note was strong and assertive, reminding of ‘Swiffer Wet’ cleaning pads, raisins, Murphy’s Oil Soap, and that one kind-of-blue-but-not-really syrup they have at IHOP (you know, the one that you think is plain maple because its 3:30 a.m. and you are all blurry eyed but real hungry but then you accidently put it on your pancakes and say, “Oh man, what the hell is that”!). In terms of appearance, the blend comes as a thick, deep black mixed ribbon cut with just a smattering of dark brown ribbons (apparently those which escaped the steam topping treatment) here and there. Under good light, the ribbons appear quite shiny and glitter a bit when looked at just right. Weird.
This stuff is moist, very, very moist and man is it ever sticky! Sticky like the hands, face, arms, hair, and feet of a fussy toddler who has been nursing an ice bar for a good half-hour or so. A warm washcloth just isn’t going to do it, and even handling the ribbons for a brief time means a trip to the sink. Try it – just play around with the mix for a bit, and then stick your fingers together – feels just like working with craft paste.
Way too wet to pack straight out of the pouch, I duly apportioned a bowl’s worth and laid it out to dry. A hour passed, no change. Three hours, no noticeable difference, must be all that propylene glycol or whatever cocktail of humectants the good folks at Dream Castle Tobacco Company doused the ribbons in before loading them into my sample pouch. Perhaps tomorrow morning – I mostly like my tobaccos on the crispy side anyway, and assume given the heavy sauce applied to this particular offering that it is going to be a rather wet smoke no matter what. Off to bed.
Morning. My God, it is still wet! Really wet. How is that possible? Is it the case that all those other smoking tobaccos, my beloved GLPs and McClellands, are actually – gasp – ‘Artificial Tobaccos’! Is this what ‘All Natural Tobacco’ really is? In all my life, I swear I have never seen a pipe tobacco stay so moist for so long. Into the microwave you go! Fifteen seconds – steam! Oh crap, my wife is going to smell this and start in again about, “yew, that stinks...”, “take it outside...”, “your pipes don’t belong in the kitchen... “, and so forth and so on, and so forth and so on. Damn you Altadis and your cursed ‘All Natural Tobaccos’, and especially your cool smoking Black Cavendish. Fifteen more seconds – this really does stink, actually, and boy if it isn’t piping hot.
Dry now, and noticeably lighter in color to boot, said Black Cavendish finally seems ready for the old Yello-Bole. So, Brylon in hand and grabbing a can of warm generic, ‘Best Value’, cola from the garage steps and a book of paper matches, the stage was set.
First light, second light, third light, fourth light. This is actually not dry at all, but rather seems to have somehow re-moistened itself between the trip from the microwave, to the Brylon, and on into the smoking den (aka, the garage). Let it rest a bit. Go inside, get the laptop. A fifth match and a bit of tamping on what remains a spongy mass finally produces an ember. Puff, puff. Hey, this is kind of smooth. Mild flavor, a bit of candy corn, a bit of maple, a little sweetness. More candy corn, but a little hotter now. Starting to bite a bit. Slow down, think about its characteristics. Have some cola. Back on track now. The flavor and mouthfeel are quite similar to the fruity shisha favored in most every hookah bar nowadays, no familiar tobacco notes to be had. Is there molasses here? Take it on its own terms. O.K. More candy corn, bubble gum or pink cotton candy, thin in body, wet – the Brylon begins to gurgle. Could be the pipe, could be the Cavendish. Could it be both? Half way there, starting to feel just a little queasy. Could be the warm cola, could be the Cavendish. Could it be both? A noticeable dose of vitamin N, yes this was indeed a Burley at one time. Possibly some Maryland in there as well, but just a guess as the casings / toppings are all that can really be discerned. Why does this not taste like tobacco?
Head swims a bit. I am not a lightweight. Get up, walk around, then back to the Yello-Bole and the laptop. More puffing, this stuff burns well. I am surprised. The Brylon is getting really hot – have to hold it by the shank. Tamp, tamp – a big puff. Whoops, starting to cough. Head still spinning. The flavor does not change, but does begin to fade noticeably following the half way point. A little tongue bite, but no big deal, I’ve experienced much worse. More cola, more puffing. A lot of smoke. This tastes like Cpt. Black, I think, but it has been a while. End of the bowl, the flavor is long gone, the body is thin and the finish vapid, a bit wet, leaving behind a curious metallic-like aftertaste. Could be the pipe or the cola perhaps? Or the Cavendish? Who cares, for all three are really quite awful in their own little ways.
So I am left thinking whether or not decision number four was the right one. Perhaps, in that it makes me think seriously about how I might feel if Super Value Black Cavendish were the only tobacco available to me, if a Brylon pipe with a flakey yellow bowl coating were the only pipe to be had, and if warm generic cola was the only beverage option. As such, I consider myself fortunate to have both the means and the wherewithal to not need to be put into a position to have to chose among such options, and thus have come to appreciate – more so then before – the blessings, while modest, of having the choices that I have. Now, on to those new McClellands!
Dream Castle Tobacco Company - Super Value Black Cavendish
Sometimes I think that Altadis blends are distributed solely through sample packs, because it is nearly impossible to imagine anyone in their right mind willfully choosing to purchase concoctions with names such as ‘Super Value Black Cavendish’ with the expectation such a pouch would contain the makings of a pleasurable experience. Furthermore, the very fact that the blend proclaims itself to be comprised of ‘All Natural Tobacco’ (is there such a thing as ‘artificial’ tobacco and if so from what is it made?) and that it is, and I quote, "cool smoking, even burning without the bite!" (yes, an exclamation point is actually used on the label) should furnish sufficient warning to steer clear.
Therefore, when a 1.5 oz. pouch of the stuff showed up (uninvited, mind you) in a recent order from an otherwise quite reputable online tobacconist, I was faced with something of a dilemma. Giving the unopened pouch an initial sniff, I quickly determined that I had four options in front of me. First, I could simply toss it is the trash and move on to sampling the new tin of GLP Westminster which was in the box, or that inviting tin of the recently released McClelland-Gage retrofit Three Oaks Original, or that dashing tin of 2009 Christmas Cheer, or even chose to dip into that four ounce bag of a rather scrumptious looking VaPer flake which had come along for the ride. Nope, I’ll get to those later – first I have to deal with this conundrum. Second, I could put the pouch in a drawer and pass it along later to some poor unfortunate soul with an empty pipe and a big grin, but after a moment realized that if the law of karma does indeed exist then I might be in for some trouble down the line. I decided not to chance it. Third, I could simply go out front and dump the contents into the flower bed, but then how would I explain to my wife that I may well have been the one responsible for killing those lovely petunias? I thought it best not to risk it. Fourth, I could open up the pouch and give it a whirl. What is the worst that could happen? After all, it is ‘All Natural Tobacco’ distributed by an outfit calling themselves Dream Castle. I mean, come on, natural tobacco, castles, and dreams – what’s not to like?
So, my mind was made up. I was going to smoke it.
For what I assumed would be a Dante-like descent into a pit of ever more horrific sights, sounds, and smells a suitable pipe was chosen: an old Yello-Bole Brylon (yes, ‘Brylon’, it is a manufactured composite of nylon and briar dust) whose bright yellow chamber coating had all but flaked off save near the heel and a bit into the shank. For after all, you did not think I would take a Radice from the rack for sampling this blend, did you? No, just as one is advised to, say, use a flute for champagne and a snifter for brandy, Brylon and Super Value Black Cavendish seemed a good pair – the vessel should complement its contents, shouldn’t it? It was either that or go up the street to the cigarette shop and grab a small Chinese made cob for a buck-fifty, because I did not want to risk fouling those nice Missouri Meerschaums which I enjoy so much. Since no one would ever take the Yello-Bole off my hands, and because I cannot justify throwing away a perfectly good pipe (even one composed of Brylon), this is where it landed.
While the heady aroma of the blend is quite noticeable at arm’s length, opening the pouch and giving it a good, long whiff was quite the experience. The pouch note was strong and assertive, reminding of ‘Swiffer Wet’ cleaning pads, raisins, Murphy’s Oil Soap, and that one kind-of-blue-but-not-really syrup they have at IHOP (you know, the one that you think is plain maple because its 3:30 a.m. and you are all blurry eyed but real hungry but then you accidently put it on your pancakes and say, “Oh man, what the hell is that”!). In terms of appearance, the blend comes as a thick, deep black mixed ribbon cut with just a smattering of dark brown ribbons (apparently those which escaped the steam topping treatment) here and there. Under good light, the ribbons appear quite shiny and glitter a bit when looked at just right. Weird.
This stuff is moist, very, very moist and man is it ever sticky! Sticky like the hands, face, arms, hair, and feet of a fussy toddler who has been nursing an ice bar for a good half-hour or so. A warm washcloth just isn’t going to do it, and even handling the ribbons for a brief time means a trip to the sink. Try it – just play around with the mix for a bit, and then stick your fingers together – feels just like working with craft paste.
Way too wet to pack straight out of the pouch, I duly apportioned a bowl’s worth and laid it out to dry. A hour passed, no change. Three hours, no noticeable difference, must be all that propylene glycol or whatever cocktail of humectants the good folks at Dream Castle Tobacco Company doused the ribbons in before loading them into my sample pouch. Perhaps tomorrow morning – I mostly like my tobaccos on the crispy side anyway, and assume given the heavy sauce applied to this particular offering that it is going to be a rather wet smoke no matter what. Off to bed.
Morning. My God, it is still wet! Really wet. How is that possible? Is it the case that all those other smoking tobaccos, my beloved GLPs and McClellands, are actually – gasp – ‘Artificial Tobaccos’! Is this what ‘All Natural Tobacco’ really is? In all my life, I swear I have never seen a pipe tobacco stay so moist for so long. Into the microwave you go! Fifteen seconds – steam! Oh crap, my wife is going to smell this and start in again about, “yew, that stinks...”, “take it outside...”, “your pipes don’t belong in the kitchen... “, and so forth and so on, and so forth and so on. Damn you Altadis and your cursed ‘All Natural Tobaccos’, and especially your cool smoking Black Cavendish. Fifteen more seconds – this really does stink, actually, and boy if it isn’t piping hot.
Dry now, and noticeably lighter in color to boot, said Black Cavendish finally seems ready for the old Yello-Bole. So, Brylon in hand and grabbing a can of warm generic, ‘Best Value’, cola from the garage steps and a book of paper matches, the stage was set.
First light, second light, third light, fourth light. This is actually not dry at all, but rather seems to have somehow re-moistened itself between the trip from the microwave, to the Brylon, and on into the smoking den (aka, the garage). Let it rest a bit. Go inside, get the laptop. A fifth match and a bit of tamping on what remains a spongy mass finally produces an ember. Puff, puff. Hey, this is kind of smooth. Mild flavor, a bit of candy corn, a bit of maple, a little sweetness. More candy corn, but a little hotter now. Starting to bite a bit. Slow down, think about its characteristics. Have some cola. Back on track now. The flavor and mouthfeel are quite similar to the fruity shisha favored in most every hookah bar nowadays, no familiar tobacco notes to be had. Is there molasses here? Take it on its own terms. O.K. More candy corn, bubble gum or pink cotton candy, thin in body, wet – the Brylon begins to gurgle. Could be the pipe, could be the Cavendish. Could it be both? Half way there, starting to feel just a little queasy. Could be the warm cola, could be the Cavendish. Could it be both? A noticeable dose of vitamin N, yes this was indeed a Burley at one time. Possibly some Maryland in there as well, but just a guess as the casings / toppings are all that can really be discerned. Why does this not taste like tobacco?
Head swims a bit. I am not a lightweight. Get up, walk around, then back to the Yello-Bole and the laptop. More puffing, this stuff burns well. I am surprised. The Brylon is getting really hot – have to hold it by the shank. Tamp, tamp – a big puff. Whoops, starting to cough. Head still spinning. The flavor does not change, but does begin to fade noticeably following the half way point. A little tongue bite, but no big deal, I’ve experienced much worse. More cola, more puffing. A lot of smoke. This tastes like Cpt. Black, I think, but it has been a while. End of the bowl, the flavor is long gone, the body is thin and the finish vapid, a bit wet, leaving behind a curious metallic-like aftertaste. Could be the pipe or the cola perhaps? Or the Cavendish? Who cares, for all three are really quite awful in their own little ways.
So I am left thinking whether or not decision number four was the right one. Perhaps, in that it makes me think seriously about how I might feel if Super Value Black Cavendish were the only tobacco available to me, if a Brylon pipe with a flakey yellow bowl coating were the only pipe to be had, and if warm generic cola was the only beverage option. As such, I consider myself fortunate to have both the means and the wherewithal to not need to be put into a position to have to chose among such options, and thus have come to appreciate – more so then before – the blessings, while modest, of having the choices that I have. Now, on to those new McClellands!
