Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Wayne Gretzky, Mar/Apr 97
(continued from page 2)
The point is that my humidor had quite a few Cohibas but only one robusto left, the one I have been dreaming of finding that perfect situation that "deserved" it! (Even on my 40th birthday I opted for a Lancero because the dinner was not outstanding, although quite excellent.)
The only partially comforting thought that has kept at large murderous intents has been the hope that the recipient of my unsolicited generosity reads Cigar Aficionado.
Family coming to visit? Beware! Lock up your humidor. Here's why.
It was last summer and my brother-in-law, wife and I flew to California to visit their dad. It had been a while since we all had been together and we were looking forward to a good time filled with good food, drink and golf. The weekend surpassed our expectations, which included a quick jaunt to the Monterey Peninsula. However, the last evening of the trip was about to be marred by my cigar inexperience.
My father-in-law had been at his office all day, and assuming that it would be OK to have a cigar from his humidor, I proceeded to evaluate which I thought would be a good smoke. The previous year I had been experimenting and enjoying cigar smoking, although it was infrequent and collegiate. I am sure that some of the selections I had chosen during that year had the owners of smoke shops laughing their asses off after I had left.
Consequently, I choose a cigar because it had a good-looking box and had a name that made it sound prestigious. I knew nothing of its history, its properties or value. Without a second thought I lit up what, even to my inexperienced palate, evaluated as a pretty damn good cigar! Upon my father-in-law's arrival home, he was greeted with the most glorious aroma.
The details that followed I cannot quite recall (I believe it is my psyche attempting to block out my stupidity). As it turned out, I had helped myself to one of Mr. Davidoff's last legacies from the land of Cuba. A Davidoff Dom Perignon. My father-in-law had painstakingly kept these beauties alive and well for the past two decades. He himself limited their smoking to one a decade!
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