My first brand-new pipe was a Peterson Irish Whiskey my Dad got me fourteen years ago. Traditionally, I smoke it when the holidays roll around, but last year felt different. Dad’s been gone for thirteen years, so I got my brother his own new Peterson in hopes of starting a new custom of our own. I bought one for myself, and I finally had a chance to smoke it…on Easter!
It’s been a while since I’ve written about pipes. Unfortunately, recovering from abdominal surgery took much longer than expected and gave me good reason to avoid them. During one pivotal appointment, my surgeon finally told me to quit smoking. “If you have to vape, then vape,” he said. “But no tobacco.”
It sucked, but I took his advice and vaped. Before I knew it, my wound was completely healed! I foolishly started smoking cigarettes again later, but the weather turned cold by the time I was ready for a pipe. Freezing outside for forty-five minutes at a time didn’t appeal to me, so I waited. I broke the old Irish Whiskey out on Christmas but otherwise kept kicking my heels.
I think I waited so long to smoke my new pipe because I felt guilty about replacing the one Dad gave me. I didn’t need to retire the Irish Whiskey and I wasn’t planning on getting rid of it entirely, but I can’t help but think about Christmas at Dad’s when I smoke it. As I get older, that’s been more of a problem.
I loved my Dad and I’m glad I was his son. I have all sorts of great memories with him, and many involve pipes. I was only twenty when Dad died, and I struggled in the aftermath. In those days, I was earnestly attempting to reshape our relationship into a mature understanding between men. Unfortunately, setbacks plagued my efforts at every turn.
It’s complicated and difficult to write about, but a series of jaw-dropping events during Dad’s final years led me to question everything I put into our relationship. He passed away before we could figure things out, so there’s a lot of baggage in that pipe.
As I contemplated the holiday and how it connected to my pipe-smoking hobby, I decided that Christmas might not be the best time to revisit the most confusing period of my life. My desire to preserve the spirit of Dad’s memory collided with everything else that’s changed this past year. The way I saw things, it made sense for me to renew my Christmas tradition by starting from a place of familiarity.
Dad loved Kapp & Peterson pipes. Aside from the quality of its wares, he held the marquee in such esteem because of the company’s heritage. In 1875, a Latvian artisan named Charles Peterson began working for Frederick Kapp’s store in Dublin. Peterson was an unparalleled craftsman and won a range of patents that established him as a true innovator.
Dad gave me several of his old Petersons. Each of them was a great smoker. My own experience has been mixed, but I turned right back to the brand when I decided to retire my Irish Whiskey. All my modern Petersons are rusticated, but I wanted a sandblasted 107 just like the one I was replacing. I found a stunning example in the company’s Irish Harp series.
Peterson’s Irish Harp pipes pay tribute to the iconic instrument. Their red stain, matching acrylic stem, tight sandblast, and wide silver band make them stand out from the rest of my newer Peteys, which feature craggy textures and earthy walnut hues. I’m no fan of maintaining or recovering sterling silver, but the pipe I found was a beauty!
Irish Harps generally sell for $145, but I paid $107 out the door and got a free tin of tobacco for my trouble. All new Petersons come in a green gift box with a pipe sock and matches. Inside, I found that mine measures a hair over six inches long. Both my Irish Whiskey and my Irish Harp are examples of the same billiard shape, and I’ve found that I can fit about three-fifths of a cubic inch of tobacco inside either of them.
After a couple of months in and out of the box, I decided it was time to pull the Irish Harp out and smoke it. I didn’t have much to do over Easter weekend aside from comparing the merits of the 5th Avenue and the Butterfinger, so I grabbed a tin of Cornell & Diehl’s Corn Cob Pipe (and a Button Nose) and set to packing.
I’m not sure I know of a traditional Easter tobacco blend, but Corncob Pipe is certainly not one of them. It’s a blend of Candian Bright Virginias, Red Virginias, and White Burley that for the life of me smells like I’m smoking hot chocolate. A cross between a ribbon cut and a flake, Corncob Pipe’s cut is known as a “ready rub.”
It was easy to pack, if a little moist since I didn’t bother letting the tobacco dry out first. If I’m planning to smoke an Aromatic, I like to let it sit outside of the tin for an hour or so before I light up. Unfortunately, I was so excited for an inaugural smoke that I threw caution to the wind on Easter and dove right in. Predictably, I struggled to keep the pipe lit at first.
I was asking a lot of the Irish Harp right out of the box, but I settled into a rhythm over the next forty-five minutes. I’ve read issues with Peterson’s dip stains leading to an unfortunate aftertaste, but I was too busy marinating in a cloud of hot chocolate and marshmallows to notice it!
A combination of the pipe’s tall bowl and sandblast kept it cool in my hand, and all in all, the Irish Harp turned in the best first smoke I’ve had outside of a Boswell. That said, I don’t think it’ll become part of my regular rotation. I’ll have to light it up more to break it in before December, but I like the idea of keeping it as my new Christmas pipe. Swapping it for my old Irish Whiskey will help me remember my Dad on my own terms, and I think he’d be proud.
That is a fine looking pipe!
I have decided that the relationship between fathers and sons can be complicated in even the best circumstances.