In fact, a more effusive and smiling welcome would be hard to imagine.
Turns out he had a "recommendation" he wished to make.
"Dude, I've got a pipe tobacco you've got to try!
He was extremely disappointed that I already knew about the product, and totally flabbergasted when I spoke well of it.
GROUSEMOOR
Manufactured by Samuel Gawith in Kendall, Cumbria.
Per our friends at Tobacco Reviews dot com: "This 200 year old blend is comprised of hand-stripped flue-cured Zimbabwe leaf, steamed to a Golden color then stoved into a unique mélange of flavors. The aroma is of "Lemon Grass".
Well, that doesn't quite say it all. There's also eau d'abricot in here.
It smells like a very moist Texas fruit cake.
Or a barber with doubtful predilections.
My tobacco merchant had opened up a tin with optimism, but was bowled over by the disconcerting fruit-soap reek of the contents.
Truly, the topping is one of the queerest perfumations in tobacco history.
Grousemoor is nevertheless a very fine tobacco. The beautiful flue-cured ribbons are of excellent quality, and the tobacco burns evenly all the way down.
I have successfully broken in some high-quality briers with this blend, and have finished several tins.
But I will not recommend it, because normal people smoke good flakes, vapers, or Oriental mixtures. Consequently only queer fish and misanthropes are likely to develop an affection for this excellent and altogether admirable product.
Oh, and Europeans - there's also a blend by Peterson that they like: Sherlock Holmes.
[SHERLOCK HOLMES, for Peterson by Kohlhase, Kopp & Co.: "An old 19th century blend of Orange and Red smoking leaf, Brazilian Burley and Virginia Mysore Indian tobacco."
Smells like a bowl of stone fruits, and smoked carelessly this degenerate "detective" will vivisect your mouth while trying to find out where the body is buried. Some people think there's an evil spirit in this mixture. They could be right. It's excellent tobacco.]
COMPLEX NEUROSES AND SADISM
The two most depraved tobaccos I have ever run across are DaVinci and Blue Note.
The first one smells like the backroom of a liquor store, the second is the aroma of a daemon farting out candy. The only people I can envision smoking either of those products habitually are uncaught pederasts, Saddam Hussein, Pakistanis, the Austrians who keep their daughters as sexual slaves in the basement for decades, that German chap who rigged up a second-hand telephone booth in his apartment as a torture and eventual burial device, and people who kill bunny rabbits.
I have the last tins of those mixtures that my tobacconist ever sold.
No, I have NOTHING good to say about DaVinci and Blue Note. They are truly base products, invented when that estimable company which for diplomacy's sake I shall not mention in this post was invaded by foaming weasels.
Perhaps someone in Germany had a bad batch of LSD.
There are no other possible explanations.
Or they did it on a drunken dare.
While killing rabbits too.
Wicked alchemists.
Fie! Fie! Fie!
And faugh!
I shall never open those two tins. They will be used to torment people.
But I'll probably smoke a few bowls of Grousemoor or Sherlock Holmes later this year, when I want to indulge my unspeakable side.
If I smell like Hello Kitty, you'll know why.
TOBACCO INDEX
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1 comment:
"A daemon farting out candy".
You should review perfume. You would blow the minds of the likes of Bois de Jasmin and Scentzilla.
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