Further on Each of the Eleven (11) Commandments of Cigar Etiquette X

10. Be neither pretentious in the growing of your ash, nor flicketh too often.
Your character is on display here. Be not showy or nervous.

Let’s peer into that character, shall we?
(In the interest of full disclosure, I lifted the majority of this post from myself. It was posted pre-Eleven (11) Commandments era, but fits nicely herein.)

Firstly, nothing puts you at a deficit in any situation quicker than not “owning” said situation. Nervous nellies own nothing -- well, maybe a nice supply of antacids. That stated, a cone-shaped cherry at your cigar’s foot is a phenomenon which indicates you are over-smoking the dang thang. That is, pulling from it too rapidly. This showcases that impatience and nervousness. If you must be that guy, at least put on a poker-face by way of consciously slowing your roll. Attempt to go off no less than ¾ cocked. As an added bonus, your overall smoking experience will be a far superior one.

Nervousness and impatience, transversely, can be seen via over-flicking. This could also be seen as nascent stogie smoker behavior, in the form of one transitioning from the world of cigarettes -- regardless, it shows a n00b as a n00b and as too potentially caustic. See: half-cocked. Read: itchy trigger finger.

The building of ash should and is viewed as one judgment of a cigar’s construction and blend. The longer the ash is able to be grown, generally speaking, the better quality of the cigar. Let’s though not get carried away, gentlepersons. A solid inch here (unlike ‘elsewhere’) makes well yer point. Overt pandering to the length of an ash can be seen as a man who *ahem* lacks other lengths, and is a self-congratulatory poseur. It is the stick which deserves praise, something I see lost upon these long ash growers and their brazenly showy “Look, ma!” attitudes.

Opposite of the previously mentioned cone-effect is the concave cherry. This is a man who might be lazy, or thoughtful. Either way, he does not live in the moment and is of little consequence. The concave cherry is symptomatic of not taking enough pulls. A caveat here is “tunneling” which is a construction issue, and not an issue of the smoker per se. At first glance these occurrences might appear the same, but upon closer inspection a concave stogie takes up much of the foot -- whereas tunneling is usually a more pin-pointed area.

On Beyond Ash, Proper

(Short random notes)

A man who, between puffings, places his stogie in a tray is a calculating perfectionist with no small amount of neuroticism -- pursue with caution.

A man who holds his stogie in his hand continuously is of the rough and ready sort. General Patton’s "A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week." Let him have his fun, because ya can’t stop him anyway -- and always accept his apologies. They are all heartfelt.

A man who dangles his stogie from his mouth - well - sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and sometimes a cigar is a place-holder for a throbbing erection pacifier.

A woman who smokes a cigar in any way, shape, or form, I should add - should report to my porch post-haste whilst wearing a thin and flowing floral dress.

Now we know a little more than we used to, don't we? Go forth and use it both on how you see others and on how others might see you.

As ever always, my kindest of thanks and regards for having read this, dear reader. I too recommend that you read my The Eleven Commandments of Cigar Etiquette in their wonderful entirety HERE.

La Gloria Cubana Médaille d'Or No. 1 - Cigar Review

Prologue:
6:44pm

I made haste to the tobacconist here locally whom I hate the least. I don’t feel that ringing endorsement deserves any further endorsement.

I have been reviewing, thus ingesting, several larger ring gauge offerings as of late. These, I am very gracious for, as they were mainly gifted to me either personally, or in the opportunity to do write-ups of (professionally). One (this one, anyways, me/I) does wish to smoke a thin gauge on occasion. I chose a handful of Panetelas but let's talk about one in particular and for now:

The Cigar:
La Gloria Cubana
Médaille d'Or No. 1 - Delicado Extra
Ecuadorian Sumatra wrapper
Nicaraguan binder
Dominican Republic, Nicaragua filler
Panetela DeLuxe (Long Panatela) 7 1/4 x 36

Pre-light:
Very veiny, some bunching at seams. The cap is resting somewhat askew atop the stick-- and still, it’s sexy. Long and lean and style and grace, baby. I am put in mind of Fred Astaire and his over-sized hands.

The band is perfection. Old world charm and gold leaf’d ornamentations.

To the nose, there are an array of sweet spices that lay on earthy tones. Some leather notes. Something like a chocolate liqueur can be sniffed at the foot. Mainly, though, the smell is of spices. Nutmeg, cinnamon, and something reminiscent of gingerbread cookies --

As noted, the cap is off center but gives the nice feel (on top of the aforementioned Astaire) of a tilted film noir fedora brim. Peeking at the foot, I can see a quite dense packing. Very firm feel, and even roll.

I opt to employ my Old Timer in shaving off the chock full o’character cap. The cold draw is as you’d expect from a panatela, firm but nothing indicative of a potential issue. The flavors are of red earth. Ginger(bread) and nutmeg and cinnamon. There is a distant clay backing. LIke a ray of sun kissing Georgia earth.

Light:
The light is a bit restricted by the tight draw, but not so bad as I can’t light it on the toast, given its dapper narrow gauge.

The first what feels like sip from the stogie is so full of soft and subtle nuances that I can’t rassle them all down. All the aforementioned notes are at play. The second pull is retro-haled and offers up a quite wonderful cushiony and warm red pepper. Or not -- perhaps the pleasant bite (I hesitate using that word) comes from the gingerbread cookies being almost ready to cool on the rack. Perhaps, both. The third draw adds the building of a sumatra inspired finish of sweet earthern floral notes that stay well to the next pull.

Act I:
The draw has loosened a tad and the ash piles up thick and white with a very even burn. As we heat up, the red pepper does distinguish itself (with fruitiness in tow) and too elevates but is still cozy. There is a slight cardamom now. Too, the nicaraguan influence is felt in notes of cocoa and an emerging and deep tobacco. The stick is warm and I keep thinking “red.” Exotic but familiar insofar as comfort level. My grandfather’s Canal Street apartment in the heart of bustling chinatown; with it’s strange Oriental furnishings yet comfortable Yiddish-spoken shtick.

I’m loving the red pepper draw and the restraint of its play. With it comes that nice fruitiness of lighter fruits in heavier syrups. I’m too loving the sweet finish on my palate that is completely tobacco and not vanila, cream, or any other metaphor. The ash clumps off on my cardigan at ¾” and so what? All the tastes are so nuanced and subtle. The cocoa transitions from almost Baker’s to almost Hershey’s. On the back of a barely forefront nutmeg, cinnamon gingerbread and red pepper swirl around one another. The finish is never the same twice, but always sweet and never sickly so.

The final pull of Act I offers nutmeg transitioning quickly to a muted form and allowing the red pepper and cinnamon to dance. Then the cocoa comes in and on the finish settles into that near milk chocolate and sweet, deep but not dense tobacco.

Medium bodied, full -flavored, and mild-medium strength. Beautiful really, thus far. A very soft and smooth mouthfeel which is not of cream, but of well-balanced spices laid on an easy palate.

The output of smoke off the foot is just a hair off of medium toward mild and is quite sweet.

Act II:
Smoke input and output reach a quite sudden yet dainty explosion. I ravage a whisper trim more off the cap. This does not loosen the draw, as it was not intended to do so, it simply makes my pulls more productive and even more flavorful. I clump off the ash at just shy of an inch (and continue to do so) in order to give my cardigan a break.

The finish is the loveliest part of the cigar and is unchanged from my prior drivels, but too is growing in intensity and legs. The sweetness is now suddenly distinctly cardamom after some soft hints prior, and has become the focal point of the draw and finish.

The red pepper/fruitiness has subdued to a lively hum on the tip of my tongue and the chocolate has amped up in a dark yet airy fashion. Cinnamon is still there, but muted, and is now dancing with the nutmeg, which has not wavered from being delicate.

At the close of the second act, smack dab in the middle of the stick, we have hit a transition. The tobacco lightens and allows floral notes to mix with the cardamom. A cinnamon cocoa emerges toward and into the finish which leads to a very soft red pepper and a nutmeg finish. The gingerbread cookies are cool on the rack, but their heated depth still lingers in the kitchen.

I must say that the sweetness is of cardamon alone and is worth the price of admission here. I would like if the tobacco stayed a few notches deeper, but it’s muting really lets the other notes be experienced.

I have stated elsewhere that I adore a Panatela, and this offering does not disappoint for all the right reasons. Complexity, nuances, transitions, and all the subtleties lacking in a fat stogie. A chef’s plate nibble in lieu of a country buffet gulp.

Act III:
A cedar note appears now, mainly on the retro-hale, all the notes mentioned above remain the same.

A note on construction: The stick softens a bit mid third act, but to only a slight and expected degree. The draw is consistent, the burn is near perfectly even.

Gentlepersons, I feel as though it’s time for me to shut up and take bigger sips at this offering until the chef decides to toss me out the back door. Barring any changes, I shall see ya in the next section.

The red pepper does strengthen at the last few pulls as it separates from the fruit notes and warms my palate to a tingle. The cigar itself stays cool as Larry Fine’s underplayed verbal reactions. That meaning, surprisingly.

Notes:

A friend recommends a double patty with cheese and bacon and the works and I nod. Stepping up to the counter, I order a plain, small burger. I like to tip toe into charred cow dalliances.

Dapper.

This is not an introductory level course in tobacco, this stogie. There are varying and subtle nuances with which a complexity is built upon. Then rebuilt. Smoke a few years, then graduate to the joys of the panatela vitola. Lest you risk mistaking such beauty for unfulfilling mottling.

Pairings:
A snootful of sherry so dry, it doth pucker. Lightly roasted coffee. Perhaps a spiced tea.

Final Grade: A
A buzz woulda garnered a +.
(I hear word that these age exceptionally well and the buzz, she comes.)
(I hear too that these are discontinued. Good news! Soon they’ll all have age.)

Epilogue:
7:58
I think I’ll leave this red rose in my hatband, thank ya. One (this one, anyways, me/I) do(es) like to feel pretty. It smells funny out here behind the bistro. 

Further on Each of the Eleven (11) Commandments of Cigar Etiquette IX

9. Thou shalt not starteth and stoppeth a stogie.
Procure the proper sized stogie for the proper sized allotment of time.

Cigars were not meant to be “put out” and re-lit. Doing so interferes greatly with the smoking experience, and does so in a very real way. Essentially, it does not allow the cigar to go through its designed process of warming which leads to the deepening and delineation of flavors, and to transitioning. We can see, then, that this transgression is far greater than the vague esoteric frou-frou trespassing of a break in meditation and/or ritual.

Too, I do realize that life happens and on occasion it happens in spite of a cigar.

How to Re-light a Cigar
Successful re-lighting begins by properly allowing an offering to burn out. Notice: I did not say put out, snub out, or any other thing which might denote of even connote, smooshing and/or the knocking off of cherry. You simply place the cigar in a tray and allow it to extinguish itself.

Prior to doing this, a good idea is to blow OUT through the cigar’s foot from its head. Do so gently but certainly, in a long and even manner. What we are doing here is avoiding ashiness to creep in upon re-lighting. After blowing out, one should tend to the aforementioned ash, by rolling it free from the foot using an edge of the tray. ONE DOES NOT TAP OR FLICK A CIGAR.

Sorry I yelled, pet peeve, that.

Upon relighting, ideally, you should accomplish this task in a manner similar to toasting the foot, but holding flame to stogie long enough to fully light. Puff slowly back into the smoking experience.

NEVER place a once lit cigar back into your humidor or any other such thing wherein your un-started offerings might be housed.

I made previous mention of life happening. Sometimes life happens in an expected fashion. Plan around it. Sometimes life happens, and not in accordance with a planned schedule. So much so, that you can realistically expect it to happen during your cigar. I have personally been there, gentlepersons.

A good way to address these cited issues is to realistically view potential/possible/probable occurrences and to pair the correct vitola to your findings. Simply put, plan ahead and plan realistically. There is an endless spectrum of time-spanning alternatives between, say, Mini Cigarillos and the ever popular Robustos and Toros. Use your options. Obtain a cigar which fits your given time-frame.

Too, use your vitola options in a way you'd choose a six-inch or footlong at Subway. I am a lightweight. I order half subs and prefer to smoke Panetelas, Lanceros, and Lonsdales. A cigar you fill up on at the halfway marker and cannot finish, 'saves for later' as well as a meatball sub. Briefly, then, know yourself as well as your situation -- then choose your stick. Cigar bars have no doggy bag options, as well they shouldn't.

Having a smaller yet successful smoke is guaranteed to be a greater experience than a 60 ring gauge you need to rush through while awaiting an interruption at any moment.

While we agree that the meditation of a cigar is a good and pleasant endeavor which does deserve our time, we too must agree that our meditations must fit our schedules -- there ain’t a monk amongst us, I would dare reckon. No one here is living on a mountain top without a single responsibility.

I’ll leave you with a final point: be nice. Nice is not found in privilege. Never afflict others with your own desire to smoke. This is a leisurely activity and you are a gentleperson. You must responsibly find time to indulge.

Thanks for reading, and I do hope you take a moment to read my The Eleven (11) Commandments of Cigar Etiquette in their entirety HERE. I feel it is well worth yer time.

Arturo Fuente Curly Head DeLuxe - Cigar Review

Prologue:
11:55am

Just a note, really. I have reviewed this offering's unbanded brother HERE.

The difference, for those wondering, between the regular and Deluxe Curly Head is that of short and long fillers, respectively. Each are floor sweepings of other Arturo Fuente blends. Who knows, there might be an Opus X Lost City in yer stogie. Or, it might be just that -- lost. THIS is a stogie, my friends.

For now, we’ll call it

The Cigar:
Arturo Fuente
Curly Head Deluxe
Cameroon Natural Wrapper
Dominican Republic binder & filler
Parejo shaped, Lonsdale sized
6.5 x 44

Pre-Light:
A rough ‘n’ ready visual appeal that not all will find appealing. There are veins, seams, knicks, divots, scratches. There are dings, blemishes, imperfections. Too, there are dents, marrings, and the occasional whoopsy. I believe I actually saw a hiccup and would not be surprised if a bugaboo went undetected. I grew bored of tallying.

There are a couple of spots packed not as firmly as most and a peek at the foot gives no hint toward density because the wrapper is pulled over-end and sorta kinda just squished down. It looks like a belly button, or perhaps a sphincter, puckered Young Republican tight.

To the nose, there is the much more universal appeal of surprisingly rich tobacco, although in an uncomplicated manner. Pardon me as I choose to not sniff from the belly button/sphincter foot-end.

The band I should state, is nice a enough adornment. I looks a tad like a Professional Boxing championship belt -- one of lesser importance. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the 146 pound Champion of Flatbush (when Vido is in Jersey)! …”

Gentlepersons, let’s light the dang thang.

Light:
Voluminous smoke with mild yet rich tobacco. Traces of vanilla and peanut on the first warm pull. I feel as though the horse left the gate in a helluva hurry -- then remind myself that they are supposed to. A second pull is retro-haled and a nice caramel is displayed alongside a deepening and warming vanilla. It very much puts me in mind of Cracker Jacks; those caramelized peanuts found within.

A third pull is very creamy, very caramel on the draw. The finish is Cracker Jack with a touch of baseball mitt and who the heck took me out to the ball-game? Who took me out to the crowd? Whomsoever did done so, Thank You!

The burn corrects itself from ridiculously jagged to terrible to feh. The ash is grey and is already looking to dump. Excuse me as I lay a hankie in my lap and enter

Act I:
I daresay this is perhaps the quintessential cigar smoking experience in terms of familiar (I will not say rudimentary) notes. Those notes are now a tobacco that is not complex, but is indeed nuanced. It is on the slight side of medium bodied with draw notes of Cracker Jacks, baseball mitt, with a finish of vanilla followed by a leggy caramel. Simple. Good. Kap like.

To my surprise the Curly Head Deluxe has yet to clump ash, however, the burn is getting a bit Helter-Skelter once again. I knock an inch of grey powdery ash off against the side of my tray in hopes it will accelerate an evening out of the burn. It quickly does indeed adjust itself.

The flavors are the same, the burn has slowed, and we are coasting in a decidedly uncomplicated manner unto

Act II:
Along with the slower burn came a less profuse smoke output, although it is still noticeably above average and from off the foot smells of a nice leather.

The finish: the vanilla now stays in stride with caramel and the two last easily onto the next pull. It is not sickly sweet, but too it is not clean. Some pepper would be nicely received, but has yet to RSVP to my invite. The draw notes are the same as already mentioned and do not seem to be evolving into the crescendo of a transition -- an occurrence that would greatly surprise me and be almost incongruent with this whole darned thing.

My keyboard is SURPRISE an ashtray, as a clump of still grey/blackish powder goes boom.

We are now in the dead center of this Fuente offering and it has warmed some, which has caused it to hint at a bit of mottling. Thus far it only deepens. The draw does tighten a tad now…

I should note that the Lonsdale size, whenever I smoke it, reminds me that it is indeed the perfect size for myself. I do like an extra long Panetela, but there is logistical perfection in the Lonsdale. I simply feel a bit less of a dandy than I’d prefer.

At this point, the draw has tightened and I am forced to Old Timer a bit more off the head and stumble upon a stem which was affecting the pull. It looks like I’ve avoided having to employ a toothpick to unplug.

There’s now a dustiness, however, which threatens to dampen to bitterness. Flavors have mingled and a distinct sour note joins and overwhelms the finish. Interestingly, the ash has whitened and is now displaying toothiness. There’s just no forecasting scraps, gentlepersons. Especially and interestingly -- those of the long filler variety. This is because their distinct tastes last longer through a portion of the stick, than the short filler alternative, which tends to simply mottle a tad.

I let it burn in my hand and pull only very occasionally, in hopes of meeting the final third in a subdued manner as opposed to a fit of bitter rage. I am rewarded the return to better pull and burn I was after, now I must be cautious of its granting.

A final second act pull offers some butter and a creamier mouthfeel than before. This aids nicely the finish, which has substantially lessened its sourness. I do believe we are back on track.

Act III:
The first draw of the final act is of a cocoa laced buttercream ending in leather and a hint of Cracker Jack which carries into the finish and births a vanilla note of newfound richness. It’s now a caramel alone which lasts strong into the next pull. I must say, the mouthfeel is quite pleasant, as are the flavors on my palate. They are not delicate, but surely they are gentle.

A retrohale shows a touch of white pepper which meets well, the creaminess. I begin to feel this offering really and finally -- truly flex. As I am duly impressed.

I have discussed ad naseum, the flavor, and to a lesser extent, body. Insofar as the strength, I do find some room to gripe as it nowhere near approaches even the lowest end of medium. One does like a lunch served with a buzz -- but one too cannot always afford that time away from the day.

This is a lovely midday excursion which won’t leave you far from home and household chores. I almost want to mow my lawn. Almost. There...it has passed.

NOTICE: the burn needed a touch-up halfway through the final act. Upon doing so, a note of orange blossom honey protrudes, which is a near grapefruit on the retro-hale. I feel for a second time (this time more pronounced) that someone handed me a different stick.

It’s as if someone poured Mogen David into Manischewitz, and handed me the glass saying “Is this Manischewitz or MG?”

The softer notes of vanilla and especially caramel have left. There is still a leather trace, it lays sharply on the tip of my tongue on account of being soaked in citrus. The retro-hale is now a tangy grapefruit with a very good bit of dry white wine sourness. Some vague floral notes are on the draw now, they put me in mind of the wildflowers alongside highways ramps.

I tilt my fedora back and gaze toward the sun, somewhat puzzled.

It’s all white wine and citrus now. The finish is almost unpleasant as the sourness goes from crisp to near bite. I believe there is a white pepper in the far back. I too believe we left the ball-game for good.

It’s all about the finish now, a sharp citrusy affair with notes of dry white wine which lasts even longer than the previous already lengthy finish. The draw is short and is a floral affair of that orange blossom honey.

This Fuente is driving me cuckoo. Fine enough ingredients, blended with a blind eye wielding a broom.

The smoke off the foot is a very toasted version of the draw. Grilling pineapples over charcoal comes to mind.

In my misspent youth of last Tuesday, I was reknown for my prank phone calls. A favorite was to call a Bowling Alley and ask if there were lighter balls for me on account of my bad back. I would talk until the opportunity arose to turn the conversation to my flamboyantly displayed disgust over the suggestion I play with children’s balls.

“I won’t abuse a child, kind sir!”
To which one clerk droned dryly, “Is this some sort of practical joke?”

Well, is it? Answer me now, dammit, as in the final pulls a mint note takes hold and birds stop in the air, midflight. As a cow jumps over the moon at midday. As now -- and finally -- it appears we are attending a double-header and a bag of Cracker Jacks are thrown into my lap, expertly, from some four rows away.

Oy vey, is that CINAMMON???

Notes:
I need a rest.

As stated, these are made from the unused remains of other finer Fuente offerings, and writing about them is as taxing as penning a transcription of a Glenn Beck meltdown. Or, for the not overly caucasian -- a Busta Rhymes track.

There are nuances, there are complexities, and there are moods which require stabilizing pharmaceutical interventions.

Pairings:
Nerves of steal and a glass of water. Glass of water, optional.

Final Grade: Huh?
(Would and will smoke again.)

Epilogue:
1:04

I shall have something bland for supper tonight. The taste bud equivalent of resting your tootsies on an ottoman after a long, very long, walk following a missed bus.