Friday, September 2, 2016

18 Sabbaths - My Father Le Bijou 1922 - 6th Sabbath

B"H
THE CIGAR
My Father Cigars
Le Bijou 1922
6 1/8 x 52 torpedo box-press
w. Nicaraguan Habano Oscuro (Pelo De Oro)
b./f. Nicaraguan

A full review of this offering can be read HERE.
A K A P L O W I T Z Scale review can be read HERE.
All 18 Sabbaths (& more re: the project) can eventually be read HERE.

This offering and the remaining are courtesy of Cigars City and my mad March Madness skills.
I
Firmly packed and a slightly tight draw. Corners start off somewhat soft. Big black pepper blast floating on a chocolate cream. Soft texture which might make chewy status if a tick more satiating. Big smoke out-put off the foot. I clip a hair more off the cap with surgical Xikar Xi2 precision. Toothy shaft, espresso marbling over a dark chocolate canvas. Brick red under-hue. Chocolate cream thickens to a mousse. Sarsaparilla syrup. Cherry, black. Mocha latte on the retro-hale after the black pepper zetz clears. Hardwoods, seasoned and toasted, drop the the palate thereafter. Draw stays tight, creates the heaviest wispy mouth-feel ever. Finish is medium legged and sweet tobacco led compost. Cracked white sheath with a half-tick of flake. I clip some more and I feel like an over-eager mohel. "Tell me why there's no meat behind my fly -- sloppy Rabbi." My dad would sing as we walked to Avenue X for a slice and a Coke at Ciro's. 

That second snip opens it up a bit and I get a dose of bitter nuts -- purge -- just nuts. Almond nigh paste. Grain, dark. Caramelized sugar on a leggier finish. Draw re-tightens... I'm grabbing a toothpick... some decent amount of tough-spots in there as I plunge. Oy vey iz mir, gentlepersons. 

II
Burn wonks and we shall see if it self-corrects. A seam is loosened at the burn-line. Chocolate creaminess gets toasted in a nutty fashion. Complex. Molasses. Burn needs a re-touch then ribbons shortly after, but nada egregious. It's getting cold out and the thought of Autumn... feh! Fruits keep try but dialing back. Toothpicking. I tweezer out a diagonally lodged stem of nice thickness and a half inch in length. There's the smoke! Ash clumps in my typed excitement, half-inch. 

Thin liquid notes. Sharp some. Then the draw tightens yet again. Quite an espresso front. Almond-laced aromatic and heavy tobacco room-note. Under-belly is compost with a floral vibe but not 'nuff spine. Foot-smoke wisps and I get next to nothing off the draw. This has become my dad nursing his '73 Plymouth Duster up and through the Catskill Mountains and child me in the back seat -- schvitzing from the August heat and the car heater pulling warmth from the over-worked engine. Except this is a Porsche, no? 

Midpoint. Another ride through Pennsylvania, East to West. Three stops, each "where are we" question answered with "Central PA." Re-light. Barely any smoke. I remove the bands to inspect. No visible leaks. Smoke off the foot builds. I feel as tho someone stuck a pin thru my straw. I smell chocolate milkshake; roll the straw in my fingers. Get a decent mouthful of Mocha latte and dark tobacco. Oak, toasted. Good smoke meow. Espresso, cocoa, black pepper, fruit/floral vibe. Tobacco core. Compost under-belly, wimpy wimpy wimpy. Fizzy cola. Top-leaf cracks and peels away. No smoke on the pull. I'm laying down the second offering in as many Sabbaths.

III
EDITOR'S NOTE
Written prior to the Sabbath. Gut Shabbos, gentlepersons... happy Saturday, goyim. 

L'shalom