nicotiana

Those of you unfortunate enough to read these pages regularly know that around here, Dark Fired Kentucky Burley blends — specifically those old-school UK ones mating it to bright Virginias — get a lot of airtime. The powerful and bold flavor of fire cured leaf, mixed in with the summertime sweetness of the lighter Virginias, makes for an excellent smoke.

Among these blends, the curly cuts manufactured by Mac Baren take a place alongside blends from Gawith Hoggarth and Peterson because they have their own charm, a light and sweet flavor with the elegant burning of rope-twisted leaf: not as dense as flake, but still nicely compacted, it burns like incense for a nice slow smolder which provides a thin steady stream of smoke, perfect for rich and spicy blends.

Doblone d'Oro, a Mac Baren blended release put out under the Savinelli name, aspires to what made the old Three Nuns so adored. That blend rope-twisted together Perique, Virginias, and possibly Burley, later substituting Dark Fired Kentucky Burley for the expensive Perique. Doblone d'Oro does one better by bringing together bright Virginias, Perique, Burley, and Dark Fired Kentucky Burley in one rope which is then sliced thinly to produce lots of little curlicues which light easily and burn long.

First encounters with this blend showed that it was a new odds-on favorite for Three Nuns fans, since Savinelli Doblone d'Oro has the rough-hewn but distinctive flavor balance of that storied blend:

At first light, the characteristic “VaPer” taste emerges, with the peppered fig flavor of the Perique clashing with the Virginia to produce a lemony aftertaste, but then the Burleys rise and the dark fired leaf wings in to support them, broadening flavor but keeping its balance. The sweetness recedes, and the Perique marches to the front, waving its sword of mixed indole alkaloids, while the dark fired simmers and tones down the flavor from its lighter notes of lemony and grassy Virginia.

When this blend first came out, it flew under the radar for a number of years. As I stumbled through the halls of the local tobacco shack last weekend, I found one last tin of it hiding under a stack of Savinelli Essenza Cipriota (also a great blend from Savinelli mixed by Mac Baren). Turning it over, I noticed that it was date-marked as being blended in 2016. I quickly took this up to the register where one of the owners, Diane Grace, checked me out with some pleasant banter about the joys of owning a tobacco shop. Her grandmother founded the shop, and it has passed along through family members since that time, continuing to serve what looks like a growing population of pipe and cigar smokers in the flat, humid, windless, bug-infested, and bullet-pocked concrete slab of this city.

Most of you know where this is going, since the question of aging tobacco blends — deliberately storing them in a cellar and letting time mature the tobacco leaf — crops up regularly. Many wonder why to bother; obviously, with some blends like the tasty Newminster No. 400 Superior Navy Flake or the ultimate comfort smoke, Sutliff Virginia Slices #507-C, those brand-new bright Virginias benefit from age, losing acidity, ammonia, and raw sugars and gaining the honeyed flavor of sugars caramelized with age. Burleys lose some of their vegetal flavor, the infamous “Burley bite,” and whatever it is that makes Burley blends hit harder in the gut than their nicotine level, probably that same slightly broccoli-like vegetal flavor. Many have expressed worry about aging Latakia, but I have found that it loses some of its excessive herbal and smoke flavors, and becomes a muted and almost spicy taste.

My fingers trembled as I opened this tin, out of fear of spilling even any of what had become, in my mind, a little treat to get me through this month. There was no need to worry; Mac Baren packed this one tightly with the dry curlies and I would have had to slam it against a wall to spill it. The aroma of fermented tobacco, almost like piquant jelly on toast, rose up, and it became clear that the once mostly tan curlies now had a uniform dark brown color. If you, dear reader, are the red-blooded pipe smoker that I believe you to be, you would have done exactly what I did: quickly and lightly fill a pipe with these little roundels, using the method Per Georg Jensen teaches on his channel, intending to follow it up with breath smoking technique since that produces the best flavor.

The first light almost scared me off for a moment because the dark fired taste hit hard, being the strongest of the flavors here. Then, magic happened. With a crackle, the first layer went up in smoke, and the rich caramelized Virginia taste took stage center, the Perique appearing only slightly later to give it the gentle flavor of roast blackberry or apricot with a little white pepper and salt on it. In the background, the other Burley functioned as it usually does when a minor player, which is to infuse the other leaf with its flavor of almonds taken fresh from the fire, giving a warmth and breadth to the alchemy of sensations so far produced. At that point, the blend reached its apex; this continued down to the end of the bowl, when a slight ashy and wet flavor intruded to let me know that the flame had hit the base of the bowl. I looked up at the clock; almost two hours had passed, in which time I had done all manner of things while enjoying the gentle tastes wafting over my tongue. The best blends are often like this, since they assert their flavor with power, but then let its inner tapestry of different varieties of leaf alternate in showing you their beauties.

How does it compare to a new tin of Doblone d'Oro? You might ask this, and would do well to do so, since at least in this house, it has proven very hard to age this tasty blend since someone keeps smoking up all of the tins. I suspect an agent provocateur, trying to keep me on the edge of my game, or perhaps a sleeper agent who lives in the attic. The newer tins of this blend have a little more acidity, but the biggest change is that the dark fired flavor, never too dominant in this blend, stands out more clearly with them, and the Virginias have more of that citrus flavor than the honey on fire-baked bread taste which I get from the aged tin. This makes for what we might have once called a “well-rounded” blend, meaning that nothing clobbers you, but the interweave of flavors makes something more than the sum of its parts. It is quite delicious, and I have put away more than a few bowls of this tantalizing leaf, but one of its secrets is that it burns slowly and so I have barely made a dent in this well-aged tin. If you will forgive me, I am perfectly content with that slow pace of life, and shall depart to enjoy the rest.