Samuel Gawith Cob Flake
(2.89)
Dark fired leaf hot pressed and cut into a 6" flake before adding a dressing of tonquin flavor. A full strength, full flavored tobacco.
Notes: Marketed in the USA under the name "1792 Flake".
Details
| Brand | Samuel Gawith |
| Blended By | Samuel Gawith |
| Manufactured By | Samuel Gawith |
| Blend Type | Virginia/Burley |
| Contents | Kentucky, Virginia |
| Flavoring | Tonquin Bean, Whisky |
| Cut | Flake |
| Packaging | Bulk |
| Country | United Kingdom |
| Production | Currently available |
Profile
Strength
Strong
Extremely Mild -> Overwhelming
Flavoring
Medium to Strong
None Detected -> Extra Strong
Room Note
Very Pleasant
Unnoticeable -> Overwhelming
Taste
Full
Extremely Mild (Flat) -> Overwhelming
Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 1 of 1 Reviews
| Reviewed By | Date | Rating | Strength | Flavoring | Taste | Room Note |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Jun 14, 2010 | Medium to Strong | Very Strong | Full | Overwhelming |
In Britain and (I'm led to believe) in much of Europe 1792 comes in tins. When sold loose it is done so under the name of cob flake. I have no idea why.
However, the nomenclature is not the strangest thing about this blend. I bought some of this stuff from a nice tobacconist in Otley, West Yorkshire, and stuffed my nose into the pouch with eager anticipation as soon as I was alone. I'd heard so much about this strange beast that I was expecting to be side swiped by the most unimaginable and exotic sensual assault. I was disappointed but also pleasantly surprised. The aroma of the unburnt tobacco reminded me of a sweet which I buy whenever I get to the Chinese supermarket. It's made of a sweetened mung bean paste and is quite delicious. There was also a faint hint of menthol to the smell which I found pleasing, subtle and intriguing. So far so good but hardly the wild ride I had been promised by those who had stumped up for a ticket before me.
When I got up for my apres dinner smoke I packed a brand new corn cob with a good couple of pinches of the flake which I had rubbed out and left to dehumidify whilst I ate. Samuel Gawith's products always seem a bit damp for immediate smoking, at least they do to my sensibilities.
It lit with an average level of difficulty, not putting up as stiff a resistance as some but certainly a little hesitant as if slightly embarrassed. I can quite understand it's sheepishness. If I tasted this way then I wouldn't want to be smoked either. The experience was not unlike being locked in a tiny, unventilated, room with a flatulent vegetarian. It was not the strength of flavour which offended me so but the structure. It started out as swampy, decaying vegetable matter and proceded to burnt leather via rained on ashtrays. I occasionally got a faint whiff of the "sweetened mung bean and menthol" I had been promised by the pouch aroma but brief, fleeting and in a sick distorted parody of the unburnt fragrance.
I really don't understand it. My taste buds usually thrive on the strange and (to others) unpleasant flavours of the world. I wanted to like this. I don't know why I can't but I'm certainly not going to waste any more time trying. Maybe if I spent more time with it I could learn to love Cob flake, I just don't see why I should. I love the fact that we all have different tastes and appreciate different things. I'm glad some folk love this and I wont tell them they're wrong for it. I'd just rather they didn't do it around me (is this making me sound like a non-smoker?).
If I was forced to choose between smoking this and contracting dysentery, I'd be stocking up on toilet paper.
UPDATE...
I put on my old work shirt the other day and noticed it had a strange smell to it. In the pocket I found the nearly full and unsealed pouch of Cob Flake - still too moist to smoke straight off after a year! I let some air for a bit and then smoked it.
The aging certainly helped alot as the swamp flavours and smells were much muted and the "sweetened mung bean" was much more prominant as was a good cigar note. If it was like this from fresh I might smoke it but I can't be bothered with buying a tobacco to age for a year before I start on it, nor did I like the trace of swampiness which remained.
However, the nomenclature is not the strangest thing about this blend. I bought some of this stuff from a nice tobacconist in Otley, West Yorkshire, and stuffed my nose into the pouch with eager anticipation as soon as I was alone. I'd heard so much about this strange beast that I was expecting to be side swiped by the most unimaginable and exotic sensual assault. I was disappointed but also pleasantly surprised. The aroma of the unburnt tobacco reminded me of a sweet which I buy whenever I get to the Chinese supermarket. It's made of a sweetened mung bean paste and is quite delicious. There was also a faint hint of menthol to the smell which I found pleasing, subtle and intriguing. So far so good but hardly the wild ride I had been promised by those who had stumped up for a ticket before me.
When I got up for my apres dinner smoke I packed a brand new corn cob with a good couple of pinches of the flake which I had rubbed out and left to dehumidify whilst I ate. Samuel Gawith's products always seem a bit damp for immediate smoking, at least they do to my sensibilities.
It lit with an average level of difficulty, not putting up as stiff a resistance as some but certainly a little hesitant as if slightly embarrassed. I can quite understand it's sheepishness. If I tasted this way then I wouldn't want to be smoked either. The experience was not unlike being locked in a tiny, unventilated, room with a flatulent vegetarian. It was not the strength of flavour which offended me so but the structure. It started out as swampy, decaying vegetable matter and proceded to burnt leather via rained on ashtrays. I occasionally got a faint whiff of the "sweetened mung bean and menthol" I had been promised by the pouch aroma but brief, fleeting and in a sick distorted parody of the unburnt fragrance.
I really don't understand it. My taste buds usually thrive on the strange and (to others) unpleasant flavours of the world. I wanted to like this. I don't know why I can't but I'm certainly not going to waste any more time trying. Maybe if I spent more time with it I could learn to love Cob flake, I just don't see why I should. I love the fact that we all have different tastes and appreciate different things. I'm glad some folk love this and I wont tell them they're wrong for it. I'd just rather they didn't do it around me (is this making me sound like a non-smoker?).
If I was forced to choose between smoking this and contracting dysentery, I'd be stocking up on toilet paper.
UPDATE...
I put on my old work shirt the other day and noticed it had a strange smell to it. In the pocket I found the nearly full and unsealed pouch of Cob Flake - still too moist to smoke straight off after a year! I let some air for a bit and then smoked it.
The aging certainly helped alot as the swamp flavours and smells were much muted and the "sweetened mung bean" was much more prominant as was a good cigar note. If it was like this from fresh I might smoke it but I can't be bothered with buying a tobacco to age for a year before I start on it, nor did I like the trace of swampiness which remained.
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