Saturday, May 18, 2019

A FIT TOBACCO FOR IRISH TARTS

An elderly acquaintance likes to mix marijuana in with his Rattray's Black Mallory. He says it calms his heart palpitations, and seeing as he is older than Jayzus, it is doubtful that his doctor has an opinion either way. You don't argue with men who are determined to derail the conversation.

I, personally, find that frightful a waste.

Black Mallory is fine stuff.

I despise marijuana.


[Black Mallory consists of Latakia in a reasonably full measure, plus plain black Virginia, Turkish, and a medium Virginia base. If you like this, you'd probably enjoy Rattray's Three Noggins -- same components -- as well as Red Rapparee as a change of pace (more stinky Turk, less Latakia).]


I am glad, however, that he is not smoking Black Cavendish Aromatic with his pot. Which is a dark steam-stove and bake Burley sauced to the gills with Vanilla and sugar, and fundamental to very many house blends in the aromatic category, because it stabilizes them and makes them burn in a regular fashion all the way down to a steaming soggy dottle.
It's prominent in Hobbits Weed, as you know.

Pitch black evil stuff.

I was recently reminded of this because of the disgusting Irish penchant for huffing nasty aromatic shite. Some very fine Celts of my ken have that horrid habit, and because of tobacco prices in the European world, they will often have their friends, relatives, and chance-met Columbian drinking buddies smuggle in pounds of BCA, RLP6, and 1Q.

If you go to hell for perversion, smoking these qualifies.

One of them needs eight pounds per year.

His SF friends bring it.

Stank luggage.



FRUITY!

With a few exceptions (*), the Peterson line of tobacco mixtures are superior variations on this theme, made in Denmark, with better basic tobaccos, and strange fruit chemical additions. But almost all of them (except Sherlock Holmes) will have a black Cavendish added.

[Among the exceptions: Irish Flake, which smells lovely after some age in the tin (clean tobaccos), Signature Flake (pressed flue-cured leaf, which is good), and Old Dublin, which is a rather excellent Balkan type blend.]


The most notorious thing the Irish stuff in their pipes, though, is Erinmore Flake. Counteracts the smell of mildew and burnt cooking fat nicely, goes well with a pint of Guinness.

The Irish make some fine whiskey, and sing very nicely.
Their breakfast tea is quite good indeed.
Their smoking is a curse.

That said, I have a year's worth of Erinmore Flake stashed away, of which a tin is opened now and again, because I'm actually rather fond of the stuff.

I can admit this because I am not presently dating anybody.

That fragrance. Cheap perfume for sinners.

Drug-addled, and drunk.



The two old codgers in Marin who used to smoke it habitually have passed on, which is a pity because they were rather decent old fellows. A chap from Denmark with bad legs -- liked it because he smoked slow -- and a Brit who had been interned at Stanley during the war.

I miss both of them; they were excellent conversationalists.


Like you, I associate cheap fruity aromas with tawdry harlots of either gender, and frowsty old men.



TOBACCO INDEX


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