Posted: Mar 8, 2010 9:50am ETYou could almost hear the collective sigh of relief around the stone coffee table on the outdoor patio, the palm fronds brushing against each other in the light breeze and the stars—especially the Orion constellation—shining in the clear, nighttime sky. We were sitting there in shirt sleeves, a glass of Brugal rum on the rocks with a slice of lime, and the magazine’s Cigar of the Year, a Padrón Family Reserve No. 45 Maduro in our hands. It was our second night at Casa de Campo in the Dominican Republic, but the first night, after a three a.m. wake-up call for a six a.m. flight, the cigar and glass of rum hadn’t been quite as relaxed, more a defiant declaration that we were on vacation than a laid back moment before collapsing into bed—and the golf hadn’t even started yet.
We were at the Caribbean golf resort for a three-day binge of golf—36 holes a day which, trust me, is more golf than four guys in their late 50s should even dream about playing. Golf trips can be a bit problematic, the search for the right mix of personalities and desires potentially subject to miscalculations of intentions and incompatibilities. But the four guys—Chuck, Mory, Matt and yours truly—around the patio epitomized the synergy of the perfect combination. Three of us went to the same college, so even though we weren’t close friends 35 years ago, the shared history has smoothed the way to an adult friendship that can be rare to find as you get older. The fourth had known one of the college group for 25 years through a business association and the other two for more than 10 years through the same country club. We represented the medical, publishing, and business sectors, often with intertwined connections between each of those worlds.
We played straight up without handicaps for three days, the same pairs each day, and at the end of the six rounds, we had split 3-3 and there wasn’t much more than a two-hole difference between total holes won and lost. Each of us had at least one good round—not bad after a multi-month winter layoff—although we all had nine-hole stretches with excellent scores. Trash-talking? You bet. Laughter? More than you can imagine, including on the last hole of the weekend, when one of us (he shall mercifully remain anonymous) chili-dipped his drive off the tee, and we nearly all fell down laughing—no mercy in this group either.
Posted: Feb 22, 2010 11:04am ETI sometimes forget about the origin of cigars. I know that might sound odd. But I’m not saying that I don’t know where a cigar is made—that has become second nature. What I’m talking about is sometimes taking for granted the long arc of history and the incredible nuances of culture linked to premium hand-rolled cigars.
Maybe my awareness is dulled by living in a time where tobacco is demonized, and by appreciating it, being branded as a SMOKER, the modern day equivalent of a scarlet letter. That harsh environment forces me the build up defenses, those rationalizations and justifications that I use for both personal and public consumption. But in the end, one of the things that happens to us all is that when we seek acceptable explanations—personal freedoms, pleasure, camaraderie—it is easy to overlook some of the other reasons, maybe truly primal reasons, that tobacco has been a part of history in Americas for several millennium. We skip over the fact that in the original colonial culture, one of the first things passed along from the indigenous tribes to the first Europeans who landed on the shores of the New World was tobacco.
There’s no mystery why I’m feeling this way. Spending four days in the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola, the history is simply inescapable. Santiago, the heart of the today’s cigar industry, is one of the oldest colonial cities in the Western Hemisphere. The names of streets and the monuments remind locals and visitors of the ancient explorers and Spanish conquistadors. Despite standing in the city in the 21st century, with honking horns, unmuffled trucks and a general cacophony on the street for 20 hours a day, you can still sense the history, the reality of what has come before.
Posted: Feb 19, 2010 4:21pm ETThey stood at the back of the makeshift room set up inside the cigar factory with a podium at the front and rows of tables arranged for a cigar seminar conducted by the owner of Matasa, and the creator of the Casa Magna, Fonseca and the new Quesada brands. Dressed in white t-shirts that commemorated today’s launch of the Quesada Tributo cigar, which will hit retail stores by May, the employees of the Matasa factory in Santiago, Dominican Republic, listened attentively to the presentation in English by their employer, their patriarch, Manuel Quesada. Certainly, only a few understood the words. When Manuel’s daughter Raquel introduced them as part of the Matasa family, the “artists who create our ideas,” the entire room of about 50 ProCigar festival attendees stood and applauded them. The workers’ smiles expressed their understanding, and in essence, told the whole story—this day was about more than just a new cigar, or another tobacco blend or some perfunctory promotional event. It was about family, too.
We had all been invited to share in a moment of family history, a sad, but ultimately uplifting moment about friends and family who couldn’t be there today. Patricia Quesada, one of the six family members who make up the 5th generation of Quesadas to work in the tobacco industry, asked for understanding because today was going to be an emotion-filled remembrance for the entire clan.
Posted: Feb 18, 2010 2:54pm ETI won’t give you the details about last night’s ProCigar Festival dinner. Suffice it to say I did not escape the merengue dance contest, which was officiated by José Blanco of La Aurora. He called on me to come up to the stage and show the world how little I knew about the local dance step; all I can say is, “Wait 'til next year’s Big Smoke, José.” I don’t think anyone from Dancing With The Stars will be calling me. But it was a lot of fun, even if you are like me and your idea of fun is not exactly the same thing as dancing an unfamiliar Caribbean dance style in front of 200 people. At least my Dominican partner was forgiving.
My day began over breakfast with Litto Gomez of La Flor Dominicana. Just like Henke Kelner of Davidoff, Gomez thinks he has one of the best crops that’s he ever produced at his farm La Canela (see Dave Savona’s blog). He said a long, dry, hot spell had made the tobacco work a little harder to grow, and by controlling the irrigation water, he was able to keep everything on track. He said this crop’s leaves were oily and thick with a lot of flavor. And, he’s still some wrapper leaf to harvest. It also rained here last night, but Gomez said the timing of that rain was “perfect…it came just at the right time.” So even though Santiago is going through a cloudy, slightly damp period this week, no one is overly concerned about it adversely affecting the crop.
Posted: Feb 17, 2010 4:32pm ET
I’m back in the Dominican Republic, land of cigars. I’m always amazed when I realize how much time has passed since my last visit here because it always feel like I should come here all the time. At the same time, I always remember my first visit here back in 1992. You’ll find a story in the Premier Issue of Cigar Aficionado. The title? CigarLand.
Within minutes of walking into the hub of the ProCigar Festival, which is taking place here this week, I started seeing old friends, people I met on that first trip 18 years ago. Henke Kelner, the mastermind behind Davidoff and Avo cigars, was in the hotel lobby; there are very few people on the planet who understand tobacco better than he does. We chatted about old times, and he introduced me to one of his sons.
The next person I ran into was Manuel Quesada, of Casa Magna and Fonseca cigars, as well as a new brand being developed by his daughters called Quesada. Manuel is one of my favorite people in the cigar business and, in recent years, has been pushing the envelope of his cigars, especially with the Casa Magna brand. He’s one of the main spokespeople for ProCigar and one of the biggest believers in cigars from the Dominican Republic. And, he’s launched a new size of Quesada this week at the festival.
Posted: Feb 10, 2010 11:36am ETSnow is coming down hard, and has been since about 7 o’clock when I decided it was wise to not rely on my commuter train system to get me home this afternoon. So, I stayed home, and have been in the process of knocking off those list items that have been there a long time, in between communicating with the Cigar Aficionado team—Dave, Jack, Greg, Andrew, John and Leah—as we wrap up production on our March/April issue. It’s a good one, but I won’t spoil the surprise.
One of the first things I did was take a look inside my humidor, which I’m keeping just a tad below 70/70 after yet another beetle outbreak this past fall. Yeah, I lost a few more good ones, including some rare Padróns; I shed a few tears over those. But I thought it was time also to examine my inventory, because I know it’s time to restock some of the forbidden fruits that I’ve always kept there. Sure enough, you can see from the bin that I’m getting low in that category.
It was fun to peruse the old Don Carlos cigars, my nice stash of Coronado by La Flors, and there are still a few Padróns and Aurora 100 Años left in there too. I definitely have some favorites in there and most of them are getting into what I consider prime smoking time: more than five years of age. Should be a really good summer this year as I see just how they’ve changed with a few more years of aging in the humidor.
Now, let’s just set this straight. Wintertime in the Northeast isn’t prime smoking time outdoors…the way it’s snowing out there right now, I think the cigar would be extinguished by the wind and the wall of snow. And by the end of the day, I’ll be wondering whether or not we’re ever going to get dug out. But it will happen. In truth, we haven’t had that much snow this winter in the New York area (thank you very much, Washington, for taking it all), and despite a long stretch of cold weather, it hasn’t been bitter cold, i.e., in the single digits very much. So, we’re just hunkering down and dreaming of green grass and sunny days.
Posted: Feb 4, 2010 2:55pm ET
Hope you all have checked out my new video with Charlie Palmer at Aureole restaurant. Tough duty that, let me tell you. Being down there in the kitchen with the stoves blazing was enough to remind me just how hard kitchen work can be. On the other hand, I kept getting bowled over by the great aromas and the fantastic views as the cooks spent the afternoon hours prepping for the evening, pre-theater rush. We had a pretty narrow window to finish up the shoot, and by the end, Charlie was gently but firmly urging everyone to get a move on. I just wanted to soak it at all up.
I hope you’ve checked out the recipe. I’ve cooked it twice at home now, to rave reviews each time. I did the full menu once, preparing the endives, and then once with a spinach side dish that I like. Both times I’ve experimented with the amount of spice I’ve put on the duck. Now, I’m a fan of duck breast anyway, so for me, this is a dish sent from heaven. But this recipe with its strong Middle Eastern spice flavors really brings out a different aspect of the duck meat, and makes it truly a savory treat.
Of course, following up the duck with a cigar is still the main challenge. I like the Coronado recommendation that I made in the video, and I think Charlie’s favorites, Padróns, would also go well with the meaty quality of the duck. This is not a dish that would go well with a mild cigar. The spice and the duck fat calls out for something really robust, and that’s why I recommended the Coronado by La Flor Dominicana.
And, by the way, we glossed over the wine selection for the dish, although if you check out the Wine Spectator site, there will be a longer discussion about the wine choice—a Chateauneuf du Pape. In fact, it’s a perfect combo, the layered complexity of that wine meshing wonderfully with the spicy crust on the duck.
Posted: Jan 4, 2010 10:19am ETThe night was balmy. There was a moon high in the sky, and a light breeze off the nearby ocean, where you could hear the unusually high surf crashing into the beach. I wanted to end 2009 on a high note, a celebration of a year survived and a silent nod to how many great, and some not so great, cigars that I smoked during the year.
I was in Puerto Rico at a new development called Bahia Beach, which about a year from now will have a new St. Regis hotel to go along with a challenging Robert Trent Jones II golf course, and that long stretch of sandy beach. Today, there are condos, a few houses and a golf clubhouse, and not much else in an area surrounded by nature preserves, lakes and a lot of tropical vegetation. In the distance, you can see the mountains of El Yunque rain forest.
Sitting on the patio of the condo I was staying with my family, I lit up a cigar given to me that day by the club’s assistant pro, Jorge. We had chatted in the late afternoon as I practiced on the putting green, and after exchanging answers to questions about what each of us did for a living, he returned in a few minutes with a cigar that he said had been given to him by a cigar retailer in San Juan. No name. No band. Just a well-made lonsdale; even he didn’t know what it was, but he said that he’d been given it by this man and he been keeping it now for eight months. I told him I would smoke it that night, because I wanted to give it a try in a completely relaxed setting, somewhere other than my office where I smoke nearly all the cigars that I taste every year.
From the first puff, I was struck by one of those realities that everyone knows, but often forgets. The cigar tasted different in the tropics. Better? That’s open to debate, but it just seemed like the setting was making this cigar something that it couldn’t be inside an air-conditioned office in a cold and snowy December. Maybe it’s the natural humidity in the air; it wasn’t uncomfortably steamy but I didn’t really need to keep the cigar in a humidor either. Maybe it’s the earthy aromas coming off the lush tropical vegetation that enhances the already earthy quality of great, aged tobacco. And, you can’t discount the feeling of not having a care in the world, taking as much time to enjoy every puff, and every sip of the red wine in my glass. Whatever the reason, the cigar was fabulous, a smooth, richly textured smoke with a earthy finish, and a light touch of leather. Was it Cuban? I doubt it, although it had a triple seam cap, and some of those dark earth tones on the palate. Whatever its origins, the cigar just seemed to be in perfect harmony with the surroundings, and thus, made better than it might have been in another setting.
Posted: Dec 15, 2009 12:00am ET
I attended a gathering at the Cigar Inn, the home of Cigar Aficionado’s lounge. Billy, Gus and Bass Fakih hosted a group of cigarmakers including Eddie Ortega of 601, Nestor Miranda and Rene Casteneda of Miami Cigar & Co. and Pepin, Janny and Jaime Garcia of My Father Cigars. By the time I got there at 1 p.m., the cigar shop was crowded with guys smoking up a storm, enjoying an open bar including Presidente beers and working their way through a buffet table of great food.
The all-day event attracted hundreds of people, and it was tough to get Billy or Gus out from the behind the counter to ask about their business because they were so busy behind the counter. They admit that business could be better on some days, but for the most part, they have done OK this year. We know that to say your business is OK is the new up.
However, I had a brainstorm. It’s time for all you cigar lovers out there to let your significant others, friends, acquaintances, colleagues trying to curry favor with you… whatever, that what you really want for Christmas is not a partridge in pear tree, but some of your favorite cigars. Don’t be specific. Cigars. Just cigars.
Tell your family that a couple of sticks will take the place just fine of a new book, or a scarf or a pair of socks. Any kind of cigar instead of a new tie. If you really want to get creative, tell them the 12 Days of Christmas story, you know the one with different gifts for each of the 12 days, with the number of items growing each day until it reaches 12…if you get lucky, you’ll end up with 78 cigars. Not bad.
Even if you’re not quite that audacious, just letting your friends and family know that you’ll take cigars for holiday presents will not only be good for you, but good for your local retailers and ultimately, good for the cigar industry. And, we all like to do good with our requests for presents, don’t we?So, have Happy Holidays. And, if you get a chance, head off to any event your local retailer is having, like the one at Cigar Inn last weekend. It’s a great place to have some camaraderie with your fellow lovers of the leaf…and enjoy a cigar at the same time.
Posted: Dec 10, 2009 10:54am ETThe sun was dropping below the mountaintops, and darkness was coming quickly to the small farming valley in north central Nicaragua. But Dr. Alejandro Martinez Cuenca, the owner of the Joya de Nicaragua brand, showed no signs of nervousness as we climbed into his SUV and his driver steered us out on the Pan-American Highway headed toward Managua. The last rays of light disappeared from the sky. I silently thought that 30 years before, or even the last time I was in Nicaragua in the 1990s, I would no sooner travel the highway between Estelí and Managua after dark than jump into a rattlesnake pit. Not today. The road was filled with traffic, small cars, buses and semi-trucks vying for space at every turn.
Don’t take my amazement the wrong way. This was not a smooth, easy ride on a superhighway between two big cities. It was a dangerous dance on a narrow, winding two-lane road, first through the mountains and then rolling agricultural land, some of it scarred with potholes and twice blocked by looming hulks of stalled trucks, their presence in the dark notable only by a small little red triangle sitting in the southbound lane less than 20 yards from the back of the blacked out vehicle—a foot on the brake pedal is a necessary driving skill here. There was no livestock lounging on the asphalt this trip, but that too can be a nighttime driving hazard since the herd usually forgets to put out the red triangle. And one can’t forget the two-wheeled, donkey-powered carts, or the ancient four-wheeled cars held together with bailing wire crawling along at less than 10 miles an hour in the same lane as cars traveling 60 miles an hour or more. More than once, our driver had to nearly come to a halt as an oncoming car failed to gauge the amount of space he needed to get back on his side of the road as he passed a slower-moving vehicle, and the same thing happened as drivers passed us and darted back into their proper lane before getting crushed by an oncoming car or worse, a passenger bus, its sides decorated like a holiday season, department store facade, each corner set off by another neon light of red, yellow, green or blue. Never a dull moment; our driver was extremely cautious, thank god, despite the fact it took more than two hours and 30 minutes to traverse the approximate 90 miles.