Straus Tobacco Sleepy Hollow

The tin note was very good, very upfront with the cinnamon. On light up, the pumpkin and cinnamon are coming through and the vanilla files in after, into a nice tobacco flavor. Very good!

And so, my dreadful tale begins. By way of a recent excursion, I found myself within the remote countryside of Westchester County on sequestered mid-evening’s stroll amid the wooded hills and vales that charitably touch the swift rolling currents of great Hudson River. Not yet being precisely sweater weather, the abiding air was nonetheless crisp as October’s chilly timbre was gingerly at hand. From the cordial serenity of a quaint little Dutch villa known as Sleepy Hollow, my sojourn had led me along a forested path of brilliant autumn splendor. There is something uniquely special about the Fall with all its colorful ambience that ingratiates my heart with a defined level of added humor.

As I sashayed along in tranquil gait, I soon observed that the openness of the woodland lane that I presently traversed was made increasingly narrow by a stand of ancient trees, that in effect, formed a natural arboreal closure. At the approximate distance of about fifty yards from my rooting these jagged oaken sentinels stood twistedly tall with a somewhat menacing influence. The abridging doorway arranged by their gnarled and knotted limbs arguably contained the entrails of a decidedly disputable looking partition of the hollow lying directly ahead.

On the sudden there came an insurgence of breeze whereupon the night’s sky grew exceeding dim almost to the state of unnatural darkness given its usual daily course. With that quickening, the closing day’s air gave way to a heightened ominous chill. I shuddered to its piercing embrace as a biting authority set to harrowing upon the rear side of my neck.

To my right, I was distracted shortly by the glimpse of a dazzling cascade of dried and decrepit golden leaves as they swirled erratically over an errant pumpkin patch, of which seemed to appear from virtually nowhere. Either my cursed eyes had failed me or there is something unmistakably incorrect about this matter I reasoned with myself.

Somewhat shaken by this peculiar development, I fixated with more discernment on this run of vegetation with its officiously green elephantine leaves and menagerie of tentacle-like vining. Straightaway I stood aghast. You see the spread of bulbous melons assumed a creepy luminous glow of flaming orange opulence against the backdrop of the now threatening blackened horizon. To make circumstances worse, upon these assumingly harmless tethered fruits, I watched as apparitions of wicked Jack O Lantern features appeared to statically flash and as God is my witness, registered the low sound of primeval giggling. Then I heard it, a thundering of more dire infamy.

From the deeply dark interior of the presumed peaceful hollows came the shrieking terror of piping lore, eek gad! In violation of all human vision, I spied a fiery-eyed steed charging relentlessly towards me as it bore the sinister blackhearted phantom of renown himself. And within this headless devil’s eerie grave-rotted hand, clutched a scarred pouch containing the celebratory seasonal haunting of legendary namesake the frightening Sleepy Hollow. The revenant Straus Tobacconist smoking banshee that pairs a tasteful mélange of assorted Cavendish, spooked Burley, and sweetly moaning Virginia. A foreboding stew delightfully spirited by a ghosting of tasteful autumn flavorings.

With a rather pensive and dreadful gaze, I looked upon the advancement of the mild-bodied bogeyman. Coming to quarters with a forceful halt, it now stood over my entirety, solemnly poised upon the insidiously thumping and snorting muscled steed. I found myself dwarfed by the terrifying bigness of its horrid attendance and a genuine fear began to painfully wretch within my internals. However, there was something strangely alluring just at that. Yes, something indeed that compelled me investigate the contents of the ethereal fiend’s purse.

Thrusting its grim member freely, the saddled monster slowly swung the coveted satchel within foreseeable reach, which caught me gawking in bizarre curiosity. Selflessly grasping the weathered sack from the ghoul’s possession, with a degree of unsettling trepidation, I saw that it revealed a vexing figment of variegated tobaccos. By all accounting the substance queerly floated forward shadowing my vision with a lustful ribbon-cut pillage of darker reckoning.

Witnessing the whole of this Sleepy Hollow blending now, I spied a handsome mixture modeling the colors of the season, golden yellow, burnt orange, decedent brown, and a blackness straight as the pitch of the evening’s looming sky. The leaves showed every inch of fine culturing and fermentation. My hopes were that perhaps this was a clear indication that the poltergeist held within came in earnest with a promise of flavorsome bliss.

Regaining my immediate senses, I was alerted by a memorable wafting essence the seemed to sing. A burst of bright pumpkin spice bundled with traces of cinnamon, nutmeg, lively allspice, and healthy ginger refrained in my presence, gayly harmonizing with a chord of tender creamy vanilla.

A further distant hum seemed to be coming forth by way of a remote citrusy tart voice and some warmer nuttiness accompaniment. Just as I registered these notes a spellbinding arpeggio crossing a scaled aberration of brown sugared root beer spice, bittersweet anise, and determined chocolate overtone sounded with a whispering echo. And finally, a bit native zest formed the crest of the mixture’s enchanting song. To all the heavens, what a perfumed tune this banshee sang friends!

Instinctively I set loose my calabash feeling heartedly possessed by this maniacal aromatic-centric and decapitated figure. A disembodied voice resounding pure phantasmagoria came thus forth, calling to me in a tone of unchambered acrimony it bellowed, “you must smoke my elegant offering dear sir, lest befall to the ills of my unforgiving wrath”. What could I do for heaven’s sake, for I am not of imprudent upbringings. With a nod of consent, I quietly acquiesced to the beast’s bulled warning.

Pinching a pillowy wadding of this spectral concoction I stuffed the bowl of my pipe in quick haste. To the touch it felt not of this world, yet I felt a shroud of comfort fall upon me. How odd this seemed to me, easement posed by the injunction of fear. Is there truly such a thing?

My trembling hands struggled to light the pipe for fear of the potentially horrific outcome should I not submit to the horseman’s command. Mustering every ounce of bravery within my being, I managed to collect my wits and overcome this troubling moment of arrestment. Much to my elation, I was instantly hailed with a wonderfully complete celebration of savory “autumn-esque” flavor.

The serendipity of the Fall quickly swooned over my palate as a fantastically tasteful obsessing of sweet aromatic flavor lent the masterful hand. Rather than mortally horrifying, the prime top-coatings of this Sleepy Hollow mystery were quite amiable in their temperament. For the most part, a politely obliging sweet earthy pumpkin registered as the dominant element within the melee of housed spirits.

Still yet further, deliciously additive spicing materialized, obviously a curious result of some secretive black magic played out by the gruesome rider. Namely, the tasteful gamut of culinary seasonings of note were evoked, dancing beautifully with the foremost pumpkin featuring. With this autumn-like affluence, I was genuinely taken aback by the exquisiteness of its inner soul. Truly enamoring was its triumphant effect!

Continuing on with this spritely indulgence, I soon came to bear with a transient remarking from an indistinct goblin that was manifestly reminiscent of soft baked goods. Perhaps a tell-tale sign of Virginian bread within or some hidden sub-phantom lurking in the shadows of the mixture’s recipe. Additionally, more determined notes of dark strapping molasses and toasted sugar came forth with extraordinary fervor. And as I proceeded to relish the discarnate nature of this specter’s registration, I became further perplexed by a wave of mottled and graceful colorization brought on by a strong basting of fructuous honey, mellow vanilla, and a residing souffle of muffled chocolaty swirling. Fullness of consistent flavor in a word can only describe my relieved reaction.

The impact of the spell originating from the native varietal was of minor disturbance. However, as the bowl progressed the invocation of roasting Burley nut joy and the sweet grassy tang dressed in floral tart of the Virginia grew with added merit. Last there was trailing haunted gasp of eroded zest emitting from the collection of Cavendish that this uncanny spook had aptly administered. This embellishment showed its force at the close of each drawl as it curtained the flowing matrix of flavor throughout the endearing experience.

All in all, Sleepy Hollow’s memorable impressions were orchestrated by the accentuation of the melodiousness and grandeur of the additive coatings rather than embolden native varietals contained within. Nothing frightful at the end of this unsuspected course but rather sheer sweet piping contentment is where the mixture soon found me.

As one should imagine the fragrance evoked by the thick spirited clouds of smoke was as enchanting as the blend’s pouched nose and reveling taste. It posed a heavenly aroma not unlike grandma’s kitchen on a day of delightful pumpkin pie baking for that matter. Although I must attest that the horse-riding phantom did in fact assure the dashed infusion of some alluring earthen citrus spice and dauntless wood as a smiling complement to the lavish bouquet. A most pleasant air by most plausible standards.

Much to my overwhelmed relief, the phantom’s concoction showed no inclination for bite. Nor were there any vile signs of tedious roughness in its lovely texture. As one would have it, the delectable weed singed at a most comfortable cool pace despite the select gratuity of tasteful dressings that had been applied. Clearly a most enjoyable piping adventure in retrospect. Figuratively I lost my own head over its aromatic excellence. Do you reward yourself well with a sitting spell of this fiendish ensemble, for the season is ripe for all its pleasantly haunting goodness. 3.5 Pipes

3rdguy

Not a big aromatic smoker but this is one of the best and 1 of 2 aromatics that I cellar. I have to dry it for 4-5 hours for an easy smoke and no flavor will be lost.

Smoking out of a 14 month old jar and flavor holds true to this point. Actual smoke holds up to the tin note which is rare in an aromatic. Wife enjoys the room note.Burns to a white ash.

If there is a downside it is hard to come by, must call to order and Straus can sell out on this fast. I grab it by the pound when the stars align.

https://youtu.be/sp-tDpG-yz4 Subtly sweet and not overpowering at all. Great room/car note - like vanilla sweetened pancakes. Cinnamon pumpkin notes. Even if you're not craving an aromatic, I highly recommend. Deelish!

Tried this blend for the first time in December 2016. It is one of the tastiest and most enjoyable blends I have had in a long time. Going to stock up on this blend when the next batches are available in July 2017. IMO this is definitely my new top blend for 2017. The tobacco is just as it states in the description. It's a fall blend that I will smoke all year... MozzMann 2017 - I'm Back!

This is one of my absolute favorite autumn aromatics. Every year I look forward to cracking this open come October. A sweet caramel-maple-funnel cake flavor that does not sublimate the tobaccos and a room note to match. Along with Cornell & Diehl's Autumn Evening this is a fall classic.

I do not normally gravitate towards the sweeter aromatics, and after opening the bag, I was afraid I strayed too far from my preferences. However, I really enjoyed this blend. I smoked it in a bent briar that had relatively wide and deep chamber. I think this helped counter the somewhat moist tobacco. It smoked well and surprisingly cool. The flavor is not overpowering and the room-note is spectacular. I will seek this blend out in the future.

This has probably been the most hyped up tobacco I have smoked. Straus did good...real good. I love it. Girlfriend loves the room note. I even got a compliment from a random guy walking by the house. It has a very nice flavor. The tobacco burns well, smokes well. Very nice smoke. I say it is worth giving it a try.

Delightful. My wife mentioned that the "tin" note was the best (only) tobacco of mine that she's liked. I let it dry for about an hour before inaugurating it in a cob. I smoked it quick and it burned like a champ down to a nice ash. The pre-smoke notes carried through to the smoke. There was a mile pumpkin spice, a bit of that bread taste. I was more focused on the aro notes vs. the tobacco notes, but it didn't taste overly-sticky or under-tobacco. A great smoke that I'm going to move from a cob to a Hackert.