Scandinavian Tobacco Group (STG) Velvet

Velvet proclaims itself as "America's Smoothest Smoke." It Isn't. But it is smoother than most. Some complain it is too much like a cigarette. Well, it is like a cigarette. In the days of the metal pocket tin that preceded the plastic pouch, Velvet clearly identified itself as pipe and cigarette tobacco, and many RYO smokers used it as a cigarette tobacco. Now that it is identified only as a pipe tobacco it retains the fine ribbon cut that can be used for RYO purposes.

Velvet is burley. It tastes like burley, slightly sweetened with licorice or anise. It also has a light top note of what seems to be cherry. It is less than an aromatic, but the added flavoring does come through.

The room note is that of a basic burley blend, the old timey pipe smell. Velvet will not bite unless puffed with exceeding vigor.

Aside from pipe smokers who just do not like burley, Velvet provides a decent smoke at a budget price. In my opinion some other budget OTC burleys (Prince Albert and Carter Hall in particular) are better, but Velvet is reasonably pleasant for those who often smoke the cheaper mixtures.

Man, oh man. When people said this was a basic blend I didn't realize just how basic they meant. Velvet is definitely one of the smoothest smokes I have ever had, almost like the smoke isn't there. The taste is what gets me. It's pleasant, mild sweetness and maybe nutty (but not always), and hints of a little cinnamon spice keep popping up. Not like a cinnamon roll, more like cinnamon gum. Smoking it with a filter results in getting almost no flavor at all, so a non-filtered pipe is the way to go with this blend.

Finally received my freebie from Lane's that I requested back in January. I wasn't on the edge of my seat waiting, but I was curious. I don't get any of the Play-Doh references. This smells like light licorice to me. Dark brown cube/chop cut, easy to load, easy to smoke.

Not much in the flavor department, this one, but it's touted as a smooth smoke, and it surely is. Back when this blend was supremely popular, everyday smokers used gimmick pipes, filters, and means other than improving technique to reduce tongue bite. This blend was undoubtedly a response to that. I couldn't get this stuff to bite, even when I huffed. Very gentle on the tongue and palate, and that was my biggest issue. There just wasn't much flavor. This is nowhere near as bad as people make it out to be these days (although Lane's may have changed the recipe somewhat), but neither is it anywhere close to a top-drawer burley. Other OTC's such as SWR or PA are superior to my taste. But if you want a very unassuming burley blend that is very mild and doesn't intrude, give this a spin.

This blend is truly unremarkable. A sweet licorice tub note that yields very little taste. It has the nostalgic room note of the the “old guys” puffing away at the public golf course, ca. 1975. The guys that smoked this stuff in the clubhouse also smoked King Edward cigars out on the course. Most these guys were WWII vets and were always quick to regale me with stories of fighting on pacific islands or in European forests. For that reason this blend, and others like it, are nostalgic for me. It’s not bad but it’s not good either. It’s the white sandwich bread of tobacco blends. I don’t buy into the hate for this blend but I equally don’t understand those who sing it’s praises. For me it’s a good blend for mowing the lawn or walking the dogs but it’s not something I’d sit down to read a book or listen to music with. It’s just a simple blend from a much simpler time, a time when men who lived thru amazing perils passed their stories on to a young junior golfer who hung on their every word. Now I’m as old as they were when they were telling me their stories. I miss the “old guys”.

This is a drug store burley. Burns well down to ash. It is the mildest tobacco I have ever smoked. Very flat tasting, Prince Albert would be preferable because the burley in the Prince stands up and shakes your hands better than this. Wallflower of the tobacco world. I'm not saying its bad, there is bad out there, it's just very ...'smooth' I guess as advertised.

Doing my own tour of the old "drug store" tobac's, I've spend some time with this blend. My intro to this blend was in college when I smoked up a pouch bought in the student union book store. I recall a reasonably pleasant smoke but it tongue bit me big time. So I set it aside for all these years. A couple of months ago I bought several old pocket tins, unopened, and have smoked a little from each, as well as from a newly purchased foil pack ($1.75 about a month ago) I got at the local grocery store. My oldest tin, with no bar codes, was manufactured by Liggett and Myers; the newest by Pinkerton but referencing "The Liggett Group". My pouch just says Pinkerton.

The new pouch revealed a slightly moist, unexciting burley that packed and lit easily. Not much casing, if any, here. A hint of sourness behind a simple burley smoke. Didn't bite me at all this time, wasn't wet in the bowl. I probably won't go back to this very much. I'd prefer PA or Kentucky Club, as personal preference.

The old tobac, however is a different thing! Very dry in the tins (no suprise, it's years or decades old), smokes very cool and has a nicely understated aroma that I believe is from a fermentation as opposed to casing. I wish I could describe it, just a tiny bit sweet but with an honest burley taste in the foreground. The older tins are a wonderful smoke and I'll smoke all of the old stuff I can get my hands on. (3/05)

During my recent exploration of old time American Codger blends, I had to try this. I procured a pouch in December 2019. I opened the pouch in September 2023. The tobacco inside is still quite moist and need some drying time before I can smoke it. Bag note is overwhelming anise flavor. I wasn’t able to detect any underlying tobacco through the flavoring in the bag note. I recommend drying this tobacco about 30 mints before firing it up, or leaving the pouch open for a couple weeks to breathe the air. Once I fire it up the anise flavor didn’t seemed to be that pronounced. I can still taste the flavoring but the underlying nutty, earthy, and woodsy burley comes through fairly easily. Burns really cool, doesn’t get hot even when pushed. The flavoring in this tobacco may ghost the pipe a little. The ghost will go away with a couple of bowls of something else. Nicotine level is medium. Doesn’t get harsh or loose flavor when pushed. Could have been more palatable for me with a milder dose of top flavor. A middle of the road two star blend for me.

for some reason I can't seem to smoke burley tobacco any more. I think the ph levels in my mouth changed, because I used to smoke the he'll outta them. Now they just burn the ever loving hell outta my mouth. so take this review w that in mind

upon opening the pouch you see nice small, brown flakes of tobacco. the pouch smell is a nice molasses, brown sugar alcohol,and bitter chocolate.

wS a bit moist so I put it in the food dehydrator at 120 Fahrenheit for just a few mins and that helped alot, although it did remove a bit of the Alcohol aroma.

well from. here it all went down hill. burnt the he'll outta my mouth, don't know why so I figured I'd try a few different pipes and packing methods but all of them failed me. I even got a pouch of amphora burley blend and was very excited cause it looked and smell so wonderful but that to burnt me.

now im giving a low review here bit it's not the tobaccos fault, I thought I looked like quality tobacco and I'm not wrong, it's just I cut smoke straight burley NY more.

now I've read that burley burns oh the alkaline side of the ph scale so it's an alkaline burn I'm experiencing and Virginia's burn on the acidic side because of the extra sugars found in VA,s so having them mixed balances them out. so I mixed some velvet w brown flakes unscented and it was a pretty nice mix but I prefer brown flakes unscented by its self.

so give it a try, it's cheap. I only paid 6$for a pouch at a brick and morter.

I think it is fair to say that human nature never really changes. Ponder on that thought for just a second or two. Mankind is steadfast with an innate complexion. If one accepts the validity of this argument, then it is reasonable to assume that piping enthusiast from back in the early twentieth century are essentially no different than those of present day; right? More specifically, the principle of smoking enjoyment relating to this passion is a human attribute that is constant by nature, being intact and changeless through the ages. Namely, the manifestation of that condition is continual and identical then and now in my humble opinion. If the critical mass of pipe smokers 109 years in the past found much satisfaction with a particular blend, a reasonable hypothesis is that present day smokers would also find similar delight in this century old creation. Admittedly, such was not always my thinking, however. Now that I am older and wiser, I can easily recognize a fallacy in attitude on my part. For the longest time I fostered a presumptuous stink about the so-called codger blends, essentially relegating them to a subordinate class of the “yeah don’t waste your money on that garbage”. I mean after all is there not the glorious Plum Pudding or succulent Solani Aged Burley beckoning the call to flavorful quality mixtures? Why in heaven’s name would you violate the internals of that sweet Savinelli with such nasty ditch-weed? Well, as our friend Forrest so brilliantly and eloquently declared “stupid is as stupid does”. Reparations are in order and must now take stage to be of righteous posture on this matter. So, at present, I am coming back at you once again with yet another commentary on one of those specific old timey tobacco blends. My oath to self, and in the act of sharing with others, is to run the gamut of the collection of these dated blends to arrive at a more informed viewpoint; rightfully so. Wisdom, and therefore knowledge, is acquired chiefly by experience. Without a deep appreciation of the discoveries of what history must teach us, I could argue that the roots of my tree are decidedly shallow. This time the dance is with one labeled as the “smoothest tobacco” to be found. Given genus by the Spaulding & Merrick Tobacco Company in the year 1908, I present to you, Velvet. Did you know that the “Coast to Coast” favorite tin of tobacco back in 1912, as heralded by the Valentine’s Day edition of the St. Louis Star and Times, sold for a measly ten cents? Springing forward to the current value of money, two ounces of very same tobacco sets you back roughly $5.98 (USD) which only amounts to a modest 5880% bump. Holy sheep crap! Despite the impact of 109 years of ridiculous price inflation and the genus of heavy “sin” taxation, buying Velvet tobacco does not come at cost of your right arm nor your left leg. At $2.99 per ounce, it is dirt cheap. Getting back to my original contention, pipe smokers are pipe smokers. The pursuit of experiencing a delightful mixture stands the test of time no matter what generation you happen to fall out of. It struck me as curious to better understand all the hubbub surrounding such an iconic rave. As such, I found myself standing at the checkout counter of my local tobacco barn, a pouch of Velvet anxiously clenched in hand, with a silly sheepish grin upon my face. A major paradigm shift had come home to roost. On a fore note, the history of Velvet presents an interesting tale, one involving a legal battle concerning violations of the Sherman Anti-Trust act. I would encourage all to take the time to review the chronicles of this blend at your leisure. In short, Velvet’s stewardship as changed hands several times over the last century because of this contentious affair, finally finding continuance under the Scandinavian Tobacco Group banner. Forever I harbored the distinct impression, probably for reasons relating to the packaging, that Velvet was one of those dubious cherry-flavored boondoggles. Respectfully acknowledging there are innumerable lovers of cherry-spun concoctions, for myself, I am generally nauseated by them. They do not float my boat (boos and hisses from the crowd follow); sorry just being honest. As such this misperception served to further my heart-felt snubbery, deterring me from retching up one single penny on the stuff. Subsequently, my eyes have, now seen, the coming of the glory of the truth. Along with the aggregate of old codger mixes, Velvet is a common coarse cut Kentucky Burley less any egregiously bold cherry flavoring; at least that I can surmise. This smoothest of smooth tobaccos is comprised by choice selections of two-year aged, sun-kissed Dark and White Burley leaf, curiously flavored with plethora of stealthy fu-fus. Six out of every half dozen swear by its merit according to the laurels existing on this famous granola like mixture. The mystery behind this stew, as reported, is the deployment of some “special” process that serves to produce its highly revered mojo. Whether there an actual secret behind the curtain, who knows? Nonetheless it is the proclamation that the makers of this cherished smoke do hang their hats upon. From a marketing standpoint with the objective of creating excitement and interest, (i.e., sales), the card has been well played for an exceptionally long duration. Opening the pouch, Velvet presents a very dark but sanguine impression at first glimpse. Deeply tinged by abundant chocolate to medium brown rough-honed cuts of Dark Burley intermixed sparingly with the lighter shards of bronzed White. A tangled umber menagerie of Kentucky’s finest crop according to the ledger. Whether the varietals used are truly the finest, Velvet does nonetheless show a respectful manly countenance, I will give it that. Regrettably, the aroma of the blend on the other hand is inordinately weak and I tried hard to experience it. What I did eventually perceive was an unassuming scent of common Burley tickled by passive sweet notes of black licorice and darker sugar, but nothing as pervasive as a Mixture 79 by any means. For being the star tobacco of ages, I was truly underwhelmed by the fragrance or lack thereof. At first light the notation of taste is very faint and indistinguishable. With a few strong drawls, an aromatic profile started to morph and find a home throughout the entire bowl. The initial flavor registration is herded by a fuzzy spray of soft-toned sweet toppings that quickly reduce to the abiding baseline Burley. The Burley itself is woodier in temperament versus nutty. One nice standard element that is brought forward consistently and rather discernably is a smart sourness. It really set the hook in me and therefore I esteem this blend for that critical feature. There are moderated zesty/tart oat highlights that occasionally float in, most likely achieved by the infusion of the various additives with the native Burley. A prevailing note of licorice stands proud (with a small “p”), taking front and center on the sweetening effects. I did register an additional muffled spice that aligns with raw sugar/honey and darker molasses. Finally, a liquor topping is there no doubt, one that I felt to be dark rum based upon the tone coming across. Overall Velvet is rather simple and indistinct, your bottom line. As to robustness and strength of flavor, the “smooth one” is poignantly mild at best. More favorably the mixture produces an ample amount of handsome smoke plumage, leaving a comfortable sour/tart earthy essence within the smoking chamber. However, Velvet can burn a little hot by my accounting. As such, there is some elemental roughness to its texture as I did experience minor degrees of tongue sting. Furthermore, even with ample drying time a significant level of sticky goop finds a resting place at the bottom of the bowl upon cessation. This makes me wonder about levels of propylene glycol that may be present. Personally, I did not find Velvet to be the smoothest nor the most flavorful tobacco I’ve yet to smoke. However, I cannot discount the enjoyment that this blend has brought countless folks since its origin back in 1908. Just like any craft, tobacco blending over the years has become more refined and imaginative, my historical lesson of the day. Velvet exists as a timely milestone towards that very pursuit so I cannot justifiably harrumph its individual merit and contribution. It is impressive that a single product has stood the test of time and continues to flourish in the hearts of many codger admirers even today. Comparatively, Velvet does stand toe to toe in terms of mass appeal with the remaining cast of old-world Burley-based recipes. Is it superior to its counterparts in that respect? Absolutely not. My personal sentiment being that Velvet is modestly “okay”, but it is not the best thing since pockets on shirts. Keep in mind this my subjective conclusion as formulated through a sampling exercise designed at qualifying and discovering the mechanical virtues of existing grandfather tobacco products. From a geeky quantitative reference, I scored Velvet a whopping 75 out of 144 in lieu of the data-based scoring system that I have standardized all my tasting events upon. Based on the credo of excellence that indexes both general smoking metrics and key blend-specific attributes I have defined, in this case for the Burley class, Velvet achieved only 52%. The primary point being with subjective review and an objective ratings process, Velvet failed to earn a substantive grade. Is it ditch-weed? Heaven’s no. What the package delivers is a middle of road, simple, somewhat smooth diversion in pipe smoking and that is good enough for me given the circumstance. With that, as I conveyed earlier, Velvet offers is at least one nice taste characteristic that shines quite brilliantly and a couple of admirable mechanical features. Will I buy again? Perhaps. Maybe throw in a pinch of Cavendish, a pinch of Latakia, a pinch and half of Virginia and just a morsel of Perique to put some more kick in the legs, then perhaps we got an enticingly deal. On its own, nah, I will pass knowing now my validated individual experience. So, there you have it, one man’s study of this classic old timey pipe smoking treasure. If I have disappointed the Velvet zealots, my pardons. Please do smoke up until your hearts are content and I am happy for your enjoyment. Given the continued commercial success of Velvet and my somewhat conditional buy-in, I would say the stated hypothesis holds true. Reflecting on human nature, the nuisances of what defines personal appeal may vary by the piper, yet the concept of expressed satisfaction is universal in constitution; we all are the same in the end. If nothing else give Velvet a try to frame your own qualified conclusion. By doing you can honestly profess that the roots of your tobacco tree of knowledge are well grounded and true to form.