"Try new things," we are often told. And it's not bad advice. How else are we supposed to learn what we like, and what we can do without, after all? I've tried stress-fractures and sprained ankles, for example, and I can assure you that ever since I've been much more careful about doing without them. On a more pleasing note, I've also recently tried two things I have indeed found much to my liking: the Camacho Triple-Maduro, and 1792 flake. Somehow, I suspect that the ability to appreciate both of these is often overlapping.

For some time now I've favored maduros and strong Nicaraguan-leaf puros, both for their flavor, and the latter for their strength as well. While the Camacho Triple-Maduro is composed entirely of Honduran leaf, what it lacks in Nicaraguan-ness it more than makes up for in maduro-ness; filler, binder, and wrapper alike are dark, aged, fermented, and, in short, packing a whole lot of experience into a single stick.

Then there's the 1792: To some, famous. To others, infamous. I can understand either opinion. It isn't a blend for the faint of heart, or, as some might propose, any heart not rated to run off of diesel fuel. The flavor may be well-suited to anyone who appreciates those darker smokes, but as many of us already know, it isn't this blend's effect on the taste buds that so strongly divides those who've tried it between "love it" and "drive a stake through its heart and bury it far outside of town". It's a powerhouse. Even with my Nicaraguan puro habit, I have to be careful with this stuff. Paced right, however, a modest-sized bowl can keep your thoughts, and all the rest of the contents of your cranium, swimming like a dream (a febrile dream, perhaps, but a dream nonetheless) for a good, long, relaxing spell.

My point, in short, is try new things. You never know what you may enjoy, regardless of what others' impressions of it may be. Granted, you also never know what might result in you passing out on the couch, and yet waking up underneath it, possibly in an unfamiliar forest, but I ask you, are such adventures not what a full and rich life is made of?

As luck would have it, we have many, many new things worth trying today, in the form of a huge selection of fresh pipes. The wares of independent artisans Michael Lindner and Mark Tinsky appear today, as well as fine briars from the workshops of Ardor, Mastro de Paja, and Ser Jacopo, plus loads of Nordings, Neerups, Savinellis, Petersons, and Brebbias. And if you're in the mood for something old instead, there's a full 84 estate pipes cleaned, polished, and inspected up on offer too.

 Eric Squires: Copywriter