Thursday, January 19, 2023

REFINED TASTES

Over the past half year, two pipe tobaccos have been brought to market with a tin aroma that can only be described as Limburger cheese. Which, if you're familiar with it, makes you really wonder why there isn't a giant wall around the province. We need to isolate those people. For the good of humanity. I've sent a letter to Greta Thunberg demanding she get on it pronto.

It's not as bad as surströmming, durian, and stinky tofu, but evenso.
Perhaps Greta Thunberg will ignore the letter.
She eats surströmming.

This proves, I think, that important world matters can not be left in the hands of Swedes, no good can possibly come of that. Good lord, bloody vikings. Boring flatheaded Scandinavian oafs, still the same gang of psychopathic killers they were a thousand years ago.


In any case, they're splendid tobaccos, and I've stockpiled quite a bit of one of them. Several reviewers describe the tin notes as "yeasty", which is of course meant euphemistically, like describing a screaming brat having a tantrum at the mall as a "darling little moppet". Or British cuisine as "edible". Good tobacco, though. Damned fine stuff.

Which convinces me the world is ready for this.
During a heat wave several years ago the bookseller and myself enjoyed glasses of wine (*styrofoam cups) at a bistro (*dive) in North Beach one evening, which because the bottle (*box) had been subjected to high temperatures for many hours, were educational.

Storage under optimum conditions brought out its natural flavour.
It tasted of existential despair and teen spirit.
Sweatsocks and flatulence.


Some things should make you question whether there is any meaning to your life.



NOTE: I shan't name either of the excellent tobaccos I mentioned, because I do not wish to be accused of either encouraging young children to go out and buy tins of it and boosting their value, OR discouraging their sale and making them a drug on the market. I am an innocent non-mercantile disseminator of information only.



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