G-d bless her widdle heart.
I much prefer the human and familiar contact of a local tobacconist, over the cold hand of the internet and fanatically antisocial invention of the personal humidor. In fact, I feel as though I do have a humidor, my local cigar shop, and in my humidor are the nicest folk. We chat and recommend and ...
and then I moved to the Pacific Northwest. Where things are different and where mold threatens to grow on me if I sit too still. I feared I lived in what might be considered a "Cigar Desert." A very 'Green' desert, wherein cigars are for sale as an afterthought in one head shop after another.
That is, until I found The Briar Shoppe, in of all places, the mall. Actually, they've been there since '69, which is longer than I've been - well - been.
There I was, back in my humidor. Replete with a knowledgeable and helpful clerk, who handed me - quite literally - the keys to the castle. Fine, overwhelmingly figuratively...she handed me the key to the showcases so I could buzz around like an unimpeded kid in a candy store.
I left with a few fine selections, and will review them all in good time but I begin with
The Cigar
Arturo Fuente Curly Head (Natural)
Cameroon Wrapper
Dominican binder/filler
Lonsdale sized
I sniff a pre-light sniff of caramel butter notes with smooth leathery undertone - with my sniffer. A tug/taste yields a hint of a soft black pepper on the tongue, but an overall caramel butter sweetness prevails and finishes quite long. I'm intrigued so I keep pulling pre-light and note how a nuttiness chases away the bite of black pepper. Complex, this stogie. Thankfully not in an irritating all-blended-together sort of way. It's complexities appear delineated and mature.
I'm bothered by the lack of cigar band.
The pack is even and of moderate denseness. Some veins are apparent, and quite possibly a seam. All this strikes me, though, as workmanlike gruffness sensibilities, and not cheap-o-ness. I decide it's all quite charming. Although I'd never say that to its face.
I remain bothered by the lack of cigar band.
The light is an effortless affair and my first exhale is a through the schnoz one that is quite robust and creamy. A vague and not at all unsettling black pepper finishes quickly on my palate and leaves behind that long finishing caramel sweet softness. This stick seems to have teeth, but not a chip on its shoulder.
Actually, quite to the contrary, while this Fuente bargain offering is billed as mild to medium, I'd say mild more closely describes it. Mild, however, does not mean lack of complexities or body. Still like with all mild cigars, I want to take it for a stroll, Zino Davidoff's etiquette opining be gosh-darned. I leash up Ruby. Then unleash her and re-decide upon a seat on the porch. She heads back toward the coach inside, growling to protect her new rawhide.
The pull of this stogie is one of perfection; all be that a personal preference sort of thing. It's an easy draw, but doesn't flood your mouth or arrive at easy via flimsy manufacture. The ash piles up high and straight, and unlike the head shop down the block from me, there's not a flake in the house.
(It comes off in a single clump, complete with a gentlemanly heads up, as we approach the)
The Second Third and its continuing even burn, it marches on. This stogie is well built.
I re-leash Ruby as minutes later, we both again change our minds. If there's anything better than a walk in the park with man's best friend and a mild enough cigar to abide -- I'm sure it involves being naked, and it's mighty chilly out for a June evening. Plus, you know, that court order...
"Your honor, it was a Maduro wrapper, I pleaded."
The stogie mellows. I mellows. Suddenly: looksie! A park bench. The perfect spot to enjoy the
 |
| Scenes from a park bench. |
In short, this Curly Head is an excellent smoke throughout. It burns even and easily with flavors indicative of a higher priced cigar. Flavors which evolve and remain un-boring, yet don't surprise and unsettle. While I'm not thrilled with the Lonsdale size -- It might just be because I wanted a bit longer with this smoke. This is simply a tremendous everyday option if you have just a little deeper pocket than a two-buck-chuck dictates.
I am no longer bothered (much) by the lack of cigar band.
There is a right and a wrong way to do everything - even wrong - and even the 'wrong' here is done right. There is no band, but it's not done in such a way as to fool you into thinking it's a cost-cutting method, a la #59 Factory Throw-outs. Instead it remains in keeping with the plot of the stogie. That being a workmanlike simplicity with complexities hidden just beneath its surface -- visible to those who take time to look. This cigar is a car mechanic with a penchant for Opera. All the while okay with itself and its lot and with what it is, which is of course what it is,
And what it is it is quite lovely.
(Please don't tell it I said that.)
+
Pairings I'd recommend would be a dachshund, nearby enough park bench, lightly roasted coffee with cream and sugar (or sweet tea), and a sunset.
Final Grade: A