We held our first dinner at the IPCPR in Las Vegas last night for a group of cigar makers and cigar brand owners. During the last few visits to Sin City, we were relegated to smoking on the gaming floors, or in some outdoor terrace at a restaurant. But last night at Bradley Ogden, we were given a private dining room where we could light up cigars. It didn't take long for everyone to realize the smoking light was on, and by the time we were done with our menus, the cigars were going strong.
The scandal surrounding Manuel Garcia, the former marketing guru at Habanos S.A., continues to percolate. The week before Dave and I traveled to Cuba, The Economist published a story about his alleged crimes. The powers that be at Habanos knew all about the story, but universally panned it as pure speculation on the big points, and downright wrong on some details.
Okay, I can hear everyone mumbling already. But it is a tough job. Someone has to do it. My goal was to taste all the major Havana Club rums while I was in Havana last week, and at least as many other rums as possible. Not in any kind of formal tasting (trust me, it would have taken weeks to get permission to conduct something official like that), but in a real life, on-the-street kind of mission. I failed. I missed the Reserva Añejo. Well, I think I missed it; there may have been a glassful on that first Sunday afternoon in country. But it was hard. The other versions of Havana Club and Santiago are so good, I kept saying, "Next time, I'll have the Reserva."
Cuba tests one's ability to keep track of what you've been smoking. Forgive me. I didn't note down the price or the box date of everything I smoked last week and in more than one case, I was given the cigars by others. But take it as a general rule that most singles in a cigar shop in Havana run between 5 and 8 CUCs, which converts to about $6 to $9.50.
I was finishing up a final walking tour of Habana Vieja, the old Spanish colonial section of Havana that is being restored, when I stopped in again at the Casa del Habano in the Conde de Villanueva hotel. I was looking for a small cigar to have before lunch, and I picked out a Bolivar Belicoso for a little more than six CUCs, the Cuban convertible peso.
I got a voicemail from a friend who is a big cigar smoker. He said, with a plaintive note in his voice: "I can't believe you're going to Cuba again without me." After a few more grouses, he ended his voicemail with, "but have a good time. Just make sure you get it ready for me." And, I could tell, he sincerely meant it.
Thank god I have a cigar to smoke. Because if I had to focus on my golf game right now, the first three rounds of the season after a four-month layoff, I’d be going crazy. Yes, a group of my friends and I are at Casa de Campo this week. We got smart this year, and decided to take Friday afternoon off from a 36-hole-a-day routine, and I’m sitting on the pool terrace, checking email, enjoying a Presidente beer and smoking a Vega Fina cigar made by Jose Seijas at the Tabacalera de Garcia factory in La Romana.
The vision still remains; the flowing black and gold walls emblazoned with the Montecristo Gran Reserva emblem, the beautiful, tall models in floor-length, black gowns with gold bling and the elegant table settings with gold tablecloths. The sounds of traditional Cuban music floated around the room, with the ceiling draped with “tapado” cloth, the fabric used for shade tobacco, as the top names in the Cuban cigar business entered the room. Everyone was shaking hands and talking with everyone in attendance, from Cuban government ministers, to Casas del Habano shop owners and Habanos’s worldwide distributors, to simple consumers from everywhere, even the United States. Whether it was David Tang or President of the National Assembly Ricardo Alcarón, the evening was electrified by the shared perception: this was the pinnacle of the world of Cuban cigars.
By 10 A.M, I had the full Cuba buzz going on. Three cups of black Cuban coffee, a small corona size Partagas Mille Fleurs, and then a Behike BHK 52 lit in my hand got me up to full speed. Now, don't get me wrong. It was a good buzz, and when you´re in Havana, it is the only way to start the day. Somehow, it all seemed sweeter, lighting up that first cigar of the day sitting on a terrace outdoors in February overlooking a pool.
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