The Evolution Of A Favorite

I'm sitting here at my console with a Savinelli full of Haddo's Delight and thinking about the road from first smoke to review-writer. What follows is a rather lengthy write-up of that particular train of thought.

It was just over a year ago when I bought my first pipe, a basket Viking from my local tobacco store. As a part of that process I had to choose my first tobacco to accompany the briar. I had tried pipes years before without success and only knew what I liked to smell. I didn't realize at the time that taste was so critical to the enjoyment of a pipe and so I chose a store blend called Watson's Druthers after much sniffing of jars. I suspect now that this was repackaged Captain Black but it would be another year before I had the experience to come to this conclusion.

Being my only blend to smoke it was, by virtue of its ability to wreath my head in beautiful aroma, my favorite, but it was severely lacking in taste. It's not that it tasted bad, it simply had no taste at all. Even a year later when I try a bowl in an attempt to deplete my supply I find it tasteless and boring. It smells great, though, and cakes a pipe like no other.

Not long after the purchase of my first pipe my wife bought me some Scottish Cake. To my amateur nose it smelled of salty, smokey beef jerky. I was unprepared for the bold flavor and immediately dismissed it, sidelining it while I tested pouch after pouch of drug store samples in a fruitless attempt to find the holy grail of aromatic blends.

During this period I became rather fond of Rum Mixture, an Altadis sample. I found it similar in aroma to Watson's Druthers but with some taste present. What I tasted certainly wasn't rum, but buttery, nutty burley tobacco. When this ran out I went searching for more rum-topped blends, landing on Gawith Hoggarth's Rum Flake.

To say that the transition from a relatively flat aromatic to a masterful blend like Rum Flake was jarring is to severely understate events. I was completely overwhelmed, much like my first bowl of Scottish Cake months before. My poor tongue didn't know what to think. The lakeland essence of rum flake had me thinking "WHOAHSOAP!!!" and I immediately dismissed it, lamenting the funds lost on the purchase. The thought of wasting money eventually brought me back around to the tin, which had then had a few weeks to mellow out. Three or so bowls later and Rum Flake had become my favorite by a margin the size of Alaska.

Despite my initial hesitance I began to find the lakeland essence, floral and soapy all at once, to be charming. A friend once told me that he found his Rum Flake experience to be like smoking incense, and I can't help but agree with him, though he meant it in a less-than-favorable light. It was here that I began to discern the different flavors and aromas that floated across my tongue and wafted up my nose: maple, vanilla, buttery burley and even a caramel essence (though to this day I haven't detected the slightest hint of rum).

Rum Flake remained king in my collection of canning jars for months and I began buying it in bulk. During one such order I purchased a sample tin of Samuel Gawith's Chocolate Flake and, in trying it, was reacquainted with an old taste, latakia. Earlier, during my experiment with Scottish Cake I found it to be akin to the proverbial cigar-chomping uncle: obnoxious, overbearing and entirely unwelcomed. With my newly-awakened palette, however, I found heaven in neatly-cut and slightly moist rectangles.

I found in Chocolate Flake something that was sorely missing from my experiments with drugstore aromatics. It had intense, satisfying flavor in the form of Virginia leaf and smokey latakia, yet offered a room note to die for. It was like walking into a humidor stocked with expensive cigars accompanied by the smell of fresh-baked chocolate cake. While Rum Flake remains in my rotation to this day Chocolate Flake had become, for the time being, the reigning champion.

In the same order months back that brought Rum Flake to my attention also came a tin of Dunhill's Nightcap. The aroma from the tin, at the time, caused me to set it aside and save it for an evening in which I felt more adventurous. My initiation into the latakia fan club at the hands of Chocolate Flake made such an evening possible and I found myself one night cautiously loading a brand new acquisition, a Bjarne freehand, with the leathery, peppery blend.

Much like my initial experience with Rum Flake I found Nightcap too assertive, not an uncommon first impression if you read other reviews. It was not without its rewards, however, and I was eager to try another bowl before the first was finished. By mid bowl my tongue happened upon a warm, rich flavor that had me patting myself on the back for having evolved my senses to the point where I could detect anything in the presence of a juggernaut such as perique.

I wasn't the only one to find Nightcap overwhelming and I was quickly relegated to smoking Nightcap on the patio. Despite two window fans and a towel at the base of the door my wife found the room note to be an assault on the nose as it crept into the living room.

In the interest of keeping the reader's attention I'll fast-forward to a handful of weeks ago where upon I fell in love with my current favorite Haddo's Delight (previously reviewed here). This tale is complete as is my over sized pipe. I have no more to say save that my experiences to this date have me looking forward with renewed anticipation to finding a new favorite. I cannot with any amount of truth call myself an expert but I find that each new tin, each unique blend brings me closer to that distinction.

It is worth mentioning, by way of closing, that I continue to keep Rum Flake, Chocolate Flake and Nightcap in my regular rotation. They may not be the favorite, but they do, and hopefully will, remain a favorite.