5:09pm
White tissue paper, pig-tailed on each end, with the cigar band set over top. That’s a certain thing that will at the very least catch an otherwise wayward eye. I bite and hand the clerk my change purse, I’m known for my change purse around those parts. It has attached to it a key fob card which gives me back a halfpenny in reward for every million point eight dollars spent. On certain in-store selections. An absolutely amazing amount of restrictions apply.
I digress.
Gentlepersons, I implore you to get a change purse. I carry only 3 things on my person: a Schrade Old Timer pocket knife, a handkerchief, and said change purse. I ain’t never been caught with my pants down -- in any situation which required pants up, at any rate.
Nevertheless, I have
The Cigar:
El Rey del Mundo
Robusto Larga
Connecticut Broadleaf Oscuro wrapper
Honduran binder/filler
Parejo Robusto 5 x 54
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Pre-light:
Doing away with the Charmin, I now am looking at a rather veiny, toothy thing with lovely age crystals forming on it. The coloring is quite mottled, however, and the whole darned affair is so rough around the edges, that so help me Hashem, I fart.
I am put in mind of the slovenly and oh so much more vulgar brother of an Romeo y Julieta Medallas de oro 1875 Reserve. This fella is from back before today’s cautious manners were invented.
The nose on this thing is surprisingly minimal. How’s about it has the smell of an old leather chair that sat for decades in a cigar lounge and is now sitting in the summer sun, left outside to “air.” Been out for a while now...
Doing away with the Charmin, I now am looking at a rather veiny, toothy thing with lovely age crystals forming on it. The coloring is quite mottled, however, and the whole darned affair is so rough around the edges, that so help me Hashem, I fart.
I am put in mind of the slovenly and oh so much more vulgar brother of an Romeo y Julieta Medallas de oro 1875 Reserve. This fella is from back before today’s cautious manners were invented.
The nose on this thing is surprisingly minimal. How’s about it has the smell of an old leather chair that sat for decades in a cigar lounge and is now sitting in the summer sun, left outside to “air.” Been out for a while now...
There is deep tobacco (natch) but too a surprisingly minty floral backing when sniffed at its foot.
The jig threatens to be up almost immediately with the construction of the cap requiring of me the assistance of ye olde Mighty Mite pocket knife. I am beginning to have my doubts that we’ll arrive at our destination prior to our wheels falling off. It seems to want to shatter in my hands...
I sip at my sherry to steady my fragile nerves.
A grassy hay cold pull and I am again surprised. A thrill a minute thus far, this stick.
The jig threatens to be up almost immediately with the construction of the cap requiring of me the assistance of ye olde Mighty Mite pocket knife. I am beginning to have my doubts that we’ll arrive at our destination prior to our wheels falling off. It seems to want to shatter in my hands...
I sip at my sherry to steady my fragile nerves.
A grassy hay cold pull and I am again surprised. A thrill a minute thus far, this stick.
I too note that the packing is firm+ side of medium and not entirely even...cue ominous music…
I actually, ya might wanna just keep it playing throughout. I fire up the Dark Cabaret of The Tiger Lillies and soldier on.
Before I forget: if anyone has a lead on a free - cheap accordion, shoot me a line. Also: lessons.
Light:
Toasting the foot lets loose wood and toast smells. Picture a fella dumping a loaf of bread from oven onto butcher block. That. Now picture it in a dark room with no ventilation.
The light itself is fine, but the stick feels so rigid as to be brittle.
The first warm pull shows dark tobacco, the second adds a flake or two of black pepper. The third pull is a retro-hale that does not offer much more.
The burn is even enough yet not to be confused with exact and I’ll watch to see if it will correct itself in
Act I:
There is a less than hearty feel to the smoke. I would not say wispy, but neither is it robust. It fails to fill my yap to its brim. The ash is dense and white and stacks up quickly. There perhaps looms on the palate’s horizon a red fruity syrup hint. The finish for now is long and kind and simply dark tobacco. The burn does, in fact, right itself.
Distant red fruits remain distant and a baking chocolate is even further behind them. There is a flinty earthiness taking unfortunate hold.
Nice burn. Good ash. Rigid construction. Medium pull but near wispy draw. Dark tobacco. Black pepper, especially on the retro-hale. Hints of red fruit syrups and baking chocolate appear to always be right around the next corner.
The ash, without warning, and as ungentlemanly and gruff as you’d expect, clumps onto my keyboard and shows more powder than I’d suspected.
Act II:
It’s a nice enough offering, sure. All hints beyond dark tobacco are now hiding around a couple of corners and have too disappeared o’er the horizon.
The rigidity eases a bit and now comes back, oh so close, the baking chocolate…
All nods to construction seem well done and the pull of smoke to my smoke-hole has improved.
There is now a dark, very dark, chocolate in the output smoke and a near tangy baking on my palate. It lingers there, too, on a long finish. Black peppers are splittsville, daddy-o. Quite nice.
Act III:
This is not a long smoke. This is not a slow smoke. This smoke does feel like one you spend much of your time chasing down. The notes all seem just out of reach until well into the second half. Perhaps it is a learning experience. An slow and earned introduction into the black arts, and I ain't talkin' Maya Angelou.
I actually, ya might wanna just keep it playing throughout. I fire up the Dark Cabaret of The Tiger Lillies and soldier on.
Before I forget: if anyone has a lead on a free - cheap accordion, shoot me a line. Also: lessons.
Light:
Toasting the foot lets loose wood and toast smells. Picture a fella dumping a loaf of bread from oven onto butcher block. That. Now picture it in a dark room with no ventilation.
The light itself is fine, but the stick feels so rigid as to be brittle.
The first warm pull shows dark tobacco, the second adds a flake or two of black pepper. The third pull is a retro-hale that does not offer much more.
The burn is even enough yet not to be confused with exact and I’ll watch to see if it will correct itself in
Act I:
There is a less than hearty feel to the smoke. I would not say wispy, but neither is it robust. It fails to fill my yap to its brim. The ash is dense and white and stacks up quickly. There perhaps looms on the palate’s horizon a red fruity syrup hint. The finish for now is long and kind and simply dark tobacco. The burn does, in fact, right itself.
Distant red fruits remain distant and a baking chocolate is even further behind them. There is a flinty earthiness taking unfortunate hold.
Nice burn. Good ash. Rigid construction. Medium pull but near wispy draw. Dark tobacco. Black pepper, especially on the retro-hale. Hints of red fruit syrups and baking chocolate appear to always be right around the next corner.
The ash, without warning, and as ungentlemanly and gruff as you’d expect, clumps onto my keyboard and shows more powder than I’d suspected.
Act II:
It’s a nice enough offering, sure. All hints beyond dark tobacco are now hiding around a couple of corners and have too disappeared o’er the horizon.
The rigidity eases a bit and now comes back, oh so close, the baking chocolate…
All nods to construction seem well done and the pull of smoke to my smoke-hole has improved.
There is now a dark, very dark, chocolate in the output smoke and a near tangy baking on my palate. It lingers there, too, on a long finish. Black peppers are splittsville, daddy-o. Quite nice.
Act III:
This is not a long smoke. This is not a slow smoke. This smoke does feel like one you spend much of your time chasing down. The notes all seem just out of reach until well into the second half. Perhaps it is a learning experience. An slow and earned introduction into the black arts, and I ain't talkin' Maya Angelou.
This smoke again has ashed off unexpectedly and an inch of mainly powder rests on my new Dr. Martens.
Baking chocolate on the buds and on the mouth-feel finish. Dark chocolate on the schnoz. These jockey with the dark tobacco for the forefront. Construction does not break, but heats and bends. A serviceable chew develops, to my pleasant surprise. A dark dried plum comes in now, mainly on the finish. A finish that lingers in its complexities at near full until the next pull.
I likey. To be honest, I couldn’t tell ya exactly why. I feel as though I have been invited to sit at the adult’s table and while being unable to partake in the conversation -- I still immensely enjoy listening. I am no nascent smoker. This leads me to believe there is a hidden and almost occult knowledge within this Obscuro wrapper.
I look for hints of Evil Eye shenanigans. “Kein Ayin Hara.” Spit thrice.
At the very end, there is a salty molasses flavor that feels of old world, perhaps even olde worlde. I sit back and ready myself for the Sabbath Queen. Her magic is even older and better. I 'spose.
Another clump of ash falls and hits my other foot with a health dose of powdery symmetry and I think of how the roots of the Kabbalah’s Tree of Life do match its crown.
There is magic afoot.
Baking chocolate on the buds and on the mouth-feel finish. Dark chocolate on the schnoz. These jockey with the dark tobacco for the forefront. Construction does not break, but heats and bends. A serviceable chew develops, to my pleasant surprise. A dark dried plum comes in now, mainly on the finish. A finish that lingers in its complexities at near full until the next pull.
I likey. To be honest, I couldn’t tell ya exactly why. I feel as though I have been invited to sit at the adult’s table and while being unable to partake in the conversation -- I still immensely enjoy listening. I am no nascent smoker. This leads me to believe there is a hidden and almost occult knowledge within this Obscuro wrapper.
I look for hints of Evil Eye shenanigans. “Kein Ayin Hara.” Spit thrice.
At the very end, there is a salty molasses flavor that feels of old world, perhaps even olde worlde. I sit back and ready myself for the Sabbath Queen. Her magic is even older and better. I 'spose.
Another clump of ash falls and hits my other foot with a health dose of powdery symmetry and I think of how the roots of the Kabbalah’s Tree of Life do match its crown.
There is magic afoot.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Notes:
This King of the World offering does without trying what Illusione tries so hard to do.
Pairings:
A Dark Cabaret atmosphere. Murmurs. Hushed voices of a hurried nature. Amontillado will allow all these to take form on the stage.
Epilogue:
6:00 thereabouts
I shall quite well like another, sir. Simply throw it down the rabbit hole for me to chase.
Pairings:
A Dark Cabaret atmosphere. Murmurs. Hushed voices of a hurried nature. Amontillado will allow all these to take form on the stage.
Epilogue:
6:00 thereabouts
I shall quite well like another, sir. Simply throw it down the rabbit hole for me to chase.
Editorial note:
No images yet, kiddies. Go blame Blogger for not fixing my uploading/formatting woes/issues.