8:46PM
Happy Labor Day, gentlepersons! Well, I do so hope ya had one yesterday. You see, I wrote this last night and then before I could edit and post, I had to eat a lil something, a light nosh. Then The Golden Girls came on and Ruby Vondella was ready to call it a day -- and we all know how impossible it is to argue with a Dachshund...
In the interest of posting this while thoughts of Labor Unions and hotdogs are still dancing in your minds, let us dive right on into the
The Cigar:
Padron 2000 Series Panetela Natural
Habano wrapper (Nicaraguan)
Habano long filler Nicaraguan)
6 ¾ x 38
Pre-light:
The nose of this stick is pure stick. A medium tobacco with a hint of toast, period. I sniff again and perhaps conjure up warm cocoa and soft nuttiness. At the foot there is an ever so slight cinnamon.
Removing the iconic band which is the perfect balance of simplicity, timelessness, and elegance -- I address the cigar. “Hel-lo, Cigar!”
[If I might, Padron apparently cost-cuts here by putting a larger gauge band on this narrow offering -- its own-sized band sure would be a nicety]
The construction is at once flawed and flawless. All nicks and bumps, and there are a good deal of them, don’t at all speak to the mechanics of the offering. The packing is firm but gives evenly under my Charmin-squeezings. A peek at the foot reveals a density that makes me think this panetela will take a while to ingest. This is far from a complaint, mind ya.
I surgeon-like strike a divot through the cap with my Old Timer and a cold pull indicates a reiteration of the above schnoz derived notes. It is high time, gentlepersons, that we
Light:
Wooden matches are employed, wind-tunnel of a porch be darned. Nice enough tobacco on the first warm pull shows gently yet with a somewhat dusty attempt at authority, the Habano’s inherent spice. This is especially noted on the second pull which is retro-haled. A somewhat richer tobacco, warm cinnamon swirling in cocoa, and an array of pepper spices ranging from white to red.
The finish is quite short and somewhat peppery, which begins as red pepper held over from the draw -- then progresses quickly to black, then white. As the black pepper fades, notes of cocoa and coffee come through. While white there is a whisper of pale nuttiness.
The burn is thus far even and a bit quick as we hit
Act I:
We begin with a mention on my part of the ash and it’s glowing hotness. It is white, and seemingly fragile. I unfurl my handkerchief upon my lap.
It is thus far a pleasant smoke, yet too is uncomplicated and barely even nuanced. The tobacco is of quality, but yet to be of character.
On each pull, the ash grows noticeably red hot. I am pulling twice a minute, but it seems to think I am greedily over-smoking. I sip my Manischewitz Concord Grape. It’s syrupy mouthfeel causes the Padron offering to finish with more legs in a dead on medium flavored sort of way. Flavor notes remain unchanged, but are also becoming somewhat toasted.
There is a further bread now noted throughout the aforementioned mentionings. A hearty white bread, home made and toasted in a cast iron skillet. The ash breaks off powdery onto my hankie covered slacks and the peppery notes all rise up a notch. The roast of the coffee note do darken.
The draw is easy and readily fills my smoke-hole. Off the foot, smoke pours freely with its nutty notes and a slight leather backing. Construction is unchanged and the burn even and quick.
Act II:
There is a surprise muting and blending (I won’t yet say mottling) of peppers and a pleasant leather comes through on the back of the toastiness. I seem to have lost the sense of chocolate and the cinnamon left before that at the end of the first third. I would shockingly say this Padron offering is a one dimensional affair -- if I could find said dimension. Brother can you spare a dime-nsion?
On a retrohale there is an uncomplicated and dusty red pepper. The burn is near intensely hot and quick and as alive as a Mexican cigarette in a Bukowski poem. The finish is too quickly gone to even dissect. I do catch enough to see no complexities.
Notes already mentioned of mainly toast and nuttiness, are accompanied in varying degrees by a smorgasbord of peppers and very occasional and frail cinnamon. I feel It bordering on sacrilege to say, but this Padron offering is leaving me flat.
Act III:
Man, oh Manischewitz -- that’s good wine.
The stick has now mottled further and is sadly not the delicacy I had hoped it to be. It lacks character, depth, complexity, and nuance. Still, it does nothing wrong. It’s construction is excellent other than fast-burning and unable to hold ash (it is a panetela, alas). It’s flavors are duly noted and too balanced, but in the end-- dare I say flat? I say balanced in the sense of a juggler with a single ball in the air.
It is far from unpleasant, as I sit here in contemplation with kosher wine in my belly and peace in my head. Perhaps it is unfair to ask of a cigar any more than to allow just that. I think I’ll smoke the remainder as I tend my rose garden on this lovely evening perhaps made possible by an un-meddlesome cigar which simply smokes pleasantly enough.
In the end, only white remains of the peppers, and a dusty white pepper at that. An ever so slight leather trace and a toastiness on the draw accompany it. On the finish there is a hint of simple wood and a lingering white pepper refrain that mottles. The finish is again very, very short and ends with me wanting a drink.
I realize that I inadvertently chose a perfect cigar for this Labor Day. It is workmanlike and it is steady. Two characteristics which I could never overstate. I bet it works overtime to put its child through art school -- even as it understands nothing of art and is sure it is bunk. It is heroic in its tradition of steadfastness. This cigar is a Teamster.
I have a new and lingering suspicion that Rosie the Riveter’s daughter was a freak in the sack.
Notes:
This offering felt like leaving the dance with the prettiest gal there, only to find out the sex is pedantic, not tantric.
Pairings:
Coffee roasted medium and sweetened with cream -- Truckstop coffee. I’ll stick to my less caloric Manischewitz in order to remain svelte for the next big dance. I mean they can’t all be duds, I think to myself and limber up with a long stretch.
Final Grade: C-
Epilogue:
9:39PM
I am not much of a meat-eater. On occasion, however, I crave a burger. Sometimes I take said craving to McDonalds, and upon eating a Big Mac -- I still want a burger. This Padron offering failed to scratch that itch is a startlingly similar manner.
I surgeon-like strike a divot through the cap with my Old Timer and a cold pull indicates a reiteration of the above schnoz derived notes. It is high time, gentlepersons, that we
Light:
Wooden matches are employed, wind-tunnel of a porch be darned. Nice enough tobacco on the first warm pull shows gently yet with a somewhat dusty attempt at authority, the Habano’s inherent spice. This is especially noted on the second pull which is retro-haled. A somewhat richer tobacco, warm cinnamon swirling in cocoa, and an array of pepper spices ranging from white to red.
The finish is quite short and somewhat peppery, which begins as red pepper held over from the draw -- then progresses quickly to black, then white. As the black pepper fades, notes of cocoa and coffee come through. While white there is a whisper of pale nuttiness.
The burn is thus far even and a bit quick as we hit
Act I:
We begin with a mention on my part of the ash and it’s glowing hotness. It is white, and seemingly fragile. I unfurl my handkerchief upon my lap.
It is thus far a pleasant smoke, yet too is uncomplicated and barely even nuanced. The tobacco is of quality, but yet to be of character.
On each pull, the ash grows noticeably red hot. I am pulling twice a minute, but it seems to think I am greedily over-smoking. I sip my Manischewitz Concord Grape. It’s syrupy mouthfeel causes the Padron offering to finish with more legs in a dead on medium flavored sort of way. Flavor notes remain unchanged, but are also becoming somewhat toasted.
There is a further bread now noted throughout the aforementioned mentionings. A hearty white bread, home made and toasted in a cast iron skillet. The ash breaks off powdery onto my hankie covered slacks and the peppery notes all rise up a notch. The roast of the coffee note do darken.
The draw is easy and readily fills my smoke-hole. Off the foot, smoke pours freely with its nutty notes and a slight leather backing. Construction is unchanged and the burn even and quick.
Act II:
There is a surprise muting and blending (I won’t yet say mottling) of peppers and a pleasant leather comes through on the back of the toastiness. I seem to have lost the sense of chocolate and the cinnamon left before that at the end of the first third. I would shockingly say this Padron offering is a one dimensional affair -- if I could find said dimension. Brother can you spare a dime-nsion?
On a retrohale there is an uncomplicated and dusty red pepper. The burn is near intensely hot and quick and as alive as a Mexican cigarette in a Bukowski poem. The finish is too quickly gone to even dissect. I do catch enough to see no complexities.
Notes already mentioned of mainly toast and nuttiness, are accompanied in varying degrees by a smorgasbord of peppers and very occasional and frail cinnamon. I feel It bordering on sacrilege to say, but this Padron offering is leaving me flat.
Act III:
Man, oh Manischewitz -- that’s good wine.
The stick has now mottled further and is sadly not the delicacy I had hoped it to be. It lacks character, depth, complexity, and nuance. Still, it does nothing wrong. It’s construction is excellent other than fast-burning and unable to hold ash (it is a panetela, alas). It’s flavors are duly noted and too balanced, but in the end-- dare I say flat? I say balanced in the sense of a juggler with a single ball in the air.
It is far from unpleasant, as I sit here in contemplation with kosher wine in my belly and peace in my head. Perhaps it is unfair to ask of a cigar any more than to allow just that. I think I’ll smoke the remainder as I tend my rose garden on this lovely evening perhaps made possible by an un-meddlesome cigar which simply smokes pleasantly enough.
In the end, only white remains of the peppers, and a dusty white pepper at that. An ever so slight leather trace and a toastiness on the draw accompany it. On the finish there is a hint of simple wood and a lingering white pepper refrain that mottles. The finish is again very, very short and ends with me wanting a drink.
I realize that I inadvertently chose a perfect cigar for this Labor Day. It is workmanlike and it is steady. Two characteristics which I could never overstate. I bet it works overtime to put its child through art school -- even as it understands nothing of art and is sure it is bunk. It is heroic in its tradition of steadfastness. This cigar is a Teamster.
I have a new and lingering suspicion that Rosie the Riveter’s daughter was a freak in the sack.
Notes:
This offering felt like leaving the dance with the prettiest gal there, only to find out the sex is pedantic, not tantric.
Pairings:
Coffee roasted medium and sweetened with cream -- Truckstop coffee. I’ll stick to my less caloric Manischewitz in order to remain svelte for the next big dance. I mean they can’t all be duds, I think to myself and limber up with a long stretch.
Final Grade: C-
Epilogue:
9:39PM
I am not much of a meat-eater. On occasion, however, I crave a burger. Sometimes I take said craving to McDonalds, and upon eating a Big Mac -- I still want a burger. This Padron offering failed to scratch that itch is a startlingly similar manner.
Was I disappointed? NO. Why? Because I had a cigar and the time with which to ingest it. I took advantage of a precious opportunity not afforded to all. I am blessed.
Thank you all for reading.