On 14 January I reviewed the Padrón 3000 Natural, an attractive, full-bodied 5.5 x 52 cigar.  Here I shall review the very same Padrón vitola, but one clothed in the maduro wrapper.  I found many similarities -- and some interesting differences.  In both cases the renowned Padrón quality shone through.

The previously-reviewed natural had been so deep brown in color that the maduro before me hardly seemed darker.  This second Padrón 3000 was indeed a beautiful chocolate brown.  An oily maduro, it appeared to be slightly box-pressed -- I do not recall the natural having been at all rectangluar.  It looked well-made, giving an overall impression of quality workmanship.  The feel in the hand was medium to light.

The lightup was smooth but powerful.  This was quality tobacco for sure.  My wife immediately appreciated the aroma.  The dominant factor in the initial profile was cedar; flavor was abundant without being strong.  This cigar was delicious, I remarked -- like biting into a steak.  There was some cocoa; smooth but full, this maduro might have been marginally milder than the natural.

A compact whitish ash an inch in length had built up during the first fifteen minutes.  At one and a half inches it was still firmly in place, and had developed a light gray, mottled appearance.  The cigar was burning flawlessly -- a sign of excellent construction, as was the silky medium draw, which I considered to be ideal.

At the 1/3 mark, a coffee character began to emerge.  But a smooth, cedary flavor remained dominant, while cocoa was becoming an ever greater part of the complex flavor profile.  This cigar had a beautiful, sun-ripened character, but not much aroma for others in the room.  (It was definitely a smoker's smoke, not a bystander's.)

But for me, it was delightful.  In much the same way that one can taste the peaty soil of the Isle of Islay in a Laphroaig single-malt Scotch, this cigar reminded me of its origins -- I could almost sense the warmth of the Nicaraguan sunshine and the smell of the rich, black earth.  The finish was the best part; long and complex, the experience seemingly took me to the humid Central American tobacco fields and the aromatic Padrón curing rooms.

At the halfway mark the taste of dry, dark cocoa began to take over.  The character had continued to change, becoming stronger, more powerful.  Soon the smoke began to lose its smoothness and seemed somewhat more serious.  There was an earthy note to the flavor now, but not too much; this had been a pleasant and welcome change.

One hour into the cigar, when 1-3/4 inches of stick remained, the flavor had become a rich, earthy mix of cocoa, ripe tobacco, and aromatic cedar.  The finish had become much spicier, even sweeter, than before.  Like the natural version of this vitola, the maduro was pleasureable down to the knuckle-burning stage.  It provided one and one-half hours of relaxation, contemplation, and enjoyment.

The appearance, construction and flavor of the Padrón 3000 Maduro were all exepmlary.  This was a smoke of top-notch quality.  I would not hesitate to declare the Padrón 3000 Maduro to be highly recommended.

The range of cured gourmet meats which come from Italy is staggering in size.  Whether smoked, salted or air-cured, these diverse meats present the taster with an almost unlimited series of culinary choices.  The first of these meats I shall review is a Calabrese Rustico.

Calabrese hails from the Calabria region of Italy.  It is a cheese-making area, so the dominant meat is pork (there are certain economies which can be had when simultaneously raising pigs and making cheese).  Calabrese is a salame; that is, a stuffed sausage which is dry-cured.  Calabrese is indeed made from pork, which is flavored with white wine and various spices such as chili.

Obtaining genuine Italian Calabrese from Calabria is difficult, but not impossible, in the United States and Canada.  However, thanks to the Italian immigrant community, extremely high-quality Calabrese is produced domestically, and is highly available.  This domestic variety need not be a poor copy, a mere shadow of the genuine article; firms such as Citterio provide dry-cured gourmet meats which rival the best imported offerings.  Citterio USA is a Pennsylvania-based supplier of dry-cured gourmet meats; the company has 19th Century, old-country origins, which is evident in the quality of their wares.

This salame is bright red in color, and comes as a chub with a length of perhaps six inches.  Since it is a dry-cured meat it is firm and dense, heavy in the hand and unsqueezable.  Slicing it is demanding; a sharp knife glides through the chub smoothly but with some resistance.  The casing does not appear to be tough, but rather, soft and supple, resisting the knife no more than the rest of the sausage.  Slicing reveals a mottled, bright-red interior, well marbled with abundant oiliness.

The aroma is spicy and inviting.  The texture in the mouth is firm; the sausage requires significant (but not objectionable) effort to chew.  Flavor is full, meaty; spices are peppery with paprika in predominance.  Finish is hotter than the flavor; the taste of sweet oil and paprika fills the mouth while the tang of heat warms the throat.  The Calabrese is filling; a few slices should suffice for a snack or -- with some flavorful, aged cheese -- a fine, European-style breakfast.

The Citterio Rustico Calabrese is a worthy domestic counterpart to the genuine Italian offerings of this celebrated variety of dry-cured salame.  For a snack, as an antipasto, or for breakfast, I would consider it to be recommended.

I've found that Padrón cigars just might be the most consistently well-constructed -- and the most consistently good -- cigars out there.  In fact, I simply haven't had a Padrón that I didn't like.  I can't say that for even my most favored brands.

While Christmas shopping last month in Plymouth I simply had to make a side stop at La Casa de la Habana, one of my three favorite cigar haunts.  (Okay, there are at least two ... no, three more favorites.  And then there's ... uh-oh, better stop there.)  While there I had a steaming cup of intense Cuban-style coffee.  And I picked up a few cigars, including two of the Padrón 3000 vitola -- one a self-described "natural" (really an EMS, English Market Selection) and the other, a maduro.  They weren't cheap, setting me back $7.99 apiece.

The Padrón 3000 can't be considered a toro, since it's not quite long enough; I'd say it's more properly a corona gorda.  Both of these Nicaraguan sticks came cellophaned.  I do recall that Cigar Aficionado had rated one of these (I don't recall which) in the high 80s or low 90s not too long ago.  So, with this (and the amazing Padrón consistency) in mind, I was looking forward to an excellent smoke.  I review the natural or EMS in this entry; I shall review the maduro version separately, in the near future.

This darker-than-normal, ripe-looking cigar should probably be classed as a colorado-maduro; referring to the cigar as EMS -- or (gasp) "natural" as does the Padrón family -- is doing it a disservice.  It had a neat cap and an attractive, matte wrapper of a solid, deep colorado color.  The lack of significant oiliness betrayed its youth.  Before lighting it I wondered what it might look like after a year or more in my humidor!

I discovered Paco Rabanne XS eXtreme in 2000 when on a business trip to Paris.  I wanted to pick up some perfume for my wife, so I entered one of the fragrance shops in the vicinity of the American embassy.  (I had reasoned that my paucity of skill in the French tongue would do the least harm there.)  I was delighted by the service provided by the staff, who went out of their way to help me select just the right fragrance for my wife, who at the time wore none.  Samples were placed on small absorbant strips, and caution was taken so that my sense of smell would not become fatigued and my judgment thereby clouded.  

The culmination of this rigorous process was my selection of a Davidoff perfume for her -- and I was so delighted with the system that I decided to choose a scent for myself.  Having allowed a brief resting period for my olfactory sense to recover, the staff and I initiated the process anew, only with myself as the object of the search.  The final selection?  A just-released product: Paco Rabanne XS eXtreme eau de toilette.

Paco Rabanne is new amongst Paris' fragrance firms.  Born in Spain, the man Paco Rabanne came to France with his family during the Spanish civil war.  He entered the fragrance market only in 1973 after spending a career in the fashion industry.  His line of fragrances is not as extensive as some others, but he has achieved several genuine "hits" in the world of perfumery.

the eXtreme

XS eXtreme must not be confused with the original XS pour homme, which was introduced in 1993.  This woody fragrance is still available, far more widely than is the XS eXtreme, which debuted as a line extension in 2000.  While the packaging is similar, the color of the original liquid is light yellow and the bottle has a silvery cap; while the eXtreme is orangish and has a copper top.

the original

Like the packaging of these two, there are superficial similarities as well as significant differences in the fragrances as well.  When shopping for the fragrance, make sure that the word "eXtreme" is predominant, and that the color is orange, not yellow / silver -- if care is not taken, the shopper will bring home the wrong stuff.

I seem to recall that the initial marketing campaign for XS eXtreme in 2000 touted the presence of human pheromones in the blend; however, I can no longer find references to this in today's marketing literature.  So my memory could be faulty.  At any rate, commercial descriptions of the scent range from the sublime ("a refreshing fragrance ... watery citrus ... aromatic woods") to the ridiculous ("Masculine Fruity Scent, It Has Top Notes Of Dewberry Fruit. Middle Note Is Juniper Berry, Finishing Off With Teak And Russian Leather"). 

I tend to find the fragrance to be herbal, yes -- woody, especially at first.  It is definitely a masculine scent, but one which is tastefully manly.  An elegant fragrance such as this conveys confident masculinity while sparing the wearer from being interpreted as "on the prowl."

The words "spicy", "floral" and "fruity" could not be used to describe this fragrance.  There are citrus notes, but the dominant impression seems to be one of exotic woods, and maybe a hint of new leather (by the way, how does one even know whether one is smelling Russian leather or the Austrian variety?).  A couple sprays of the eau de toilette, carefully applied, last all day.

While this fragrance may be hard to find in the United States, I have found it here, and have more often purchased it in the duty-free shops of Canada and Europe.  A 50 ml (1.7 fl. oz.) eau de toilette spray last cost me around fifty Canadian dollars.  This bottle will provide half a year or more of careful daily use.  Keeping the availability problem in mind, and because of its elegance and understated masculinity, I would consider the Paco Rabanne XS eXtreme eau de toilette to be recommended.

For years, the corona was my favorite vitola.  It's still one of my most frequent smokes.  Cigars around the 5.5 x 43 size just seemed to burn better, require less work to keep lit, and provide abundant flavor early in the smoking process.  While I've warmed to the larger ring gauges in the last couple years, I still like my cigars to be of corona or toro length.

A handful of these corona-sized sticks were given to me in September by my brother-in-law.  He had received a box of these as a gift from one of his loyal customers.  Quintero is a Cuban brand, but is one of the rare Cubans that is manufactured elsewhere in the country besides Havana; the Quintero y Hermanos factory is in Cienfuegos.  As for the price, alas! I didn't buy it; but I have seen these on sale in Canada for a few loonies apiece.  When compared to the other Havanas, that price certainly places the Breva into the entry-level Cuban category.  Cuba does have a lot of poor-quality, machine-made cigars out there, though; however, this product does differentiate itself from these cheaper sticks.  The tobacco used by Quintero comes from the famed Vuelta Abajo, so the quality of the raw materials "should" be good.

This 5.5 x 40 Breva had a slightly rough appearance.  Yes, it had a pretty rose-colored wrapper and a fairly nice cap; the overall appearance, however, was not one of quality.  It wasn't particularly veiny, but rather, "lumpy" -- as if the binder had bumps on it.  It was light in the hand, even for a corona.  I suspect that it isn't totalamente a mano -- made totally by hand -- but rather, hecho a mano, which could indicate machine-bunching and hand-finishing (rolling), or perhaps the other way around.  But nevertheless, I told myself: this is prized Cuban tobacco, and I'm gonna smoke the doggone thing no matter how it was made!

The initial lightup impression was one of smoothness and mildness.  There was absolutely no punch.  However, it certainly got my wife's attention; she described the first aroma as having been soft, without that typical lightup harshness.

The flavor of this Quintero was definitely enjoyable.  It could be summed up in one word: creamy.  It was pleasingly mild, not at all bland -- but rather, much like sipping a good cup of coffee with a luxurious amount of cream in it.  It wasn't exactly sweet, but (just as my wife described the aroma) the flavor was soft.  Supple.  Gentle.  But with a certain subtle spiciness in the background, just enough to make it interesting.

The ash was semi-compact, and had that characteristic Havana grey mottled appearance.  (I am not insistent on a white ash, as are many aficionados; im my experience, the ash color has more to do with the origin of the tobacco rather than the quality thereof.)  The ash reached one inch in only twelve minutes, but was still hanging firmly to the smoke.  I gently tapped it off at 1.5", because only then was it beginning to appear fragile.

I’ve been an avid coffee drinker since my freshman year of college, when I discovered this curious beverage’s amazing ability to ensure success when “pulling an all-nighter.” At the time I drank the swill produced in five-gallon lots by the staff of Van Houten cafeteria, cut by generous amounts of chocolate milk to enable threshold-level palatability. After hours I supplemented it with the rotgut stuff which could be had at the nearest all-night convenience store. Coffee was, for me at the time, a utilitarian beverage, hardly meant for enjoyment.

All that has changed. I had a friend in the early eighties who had spent several years stationed in Hawaii; while there he became enamored with the local coffees, especially the celebrated Kona variety. It was at his behest that I tasted my first premium arabica brew. Strong, dark, aromatic and seductive -- uncut with the typical condiments of cream, milk nor sugar, and unspoiled by industrial food-grade adulterants as are many commercial brands -- this stuff had my name written all over it. And I haven’t looked back since.

My latest infatuation has been the range of coffees produced by Allegro. Having purchased varietal coffees for years, and exclusively from small, local, boutique shops, I discovered Allegro one day in the late nineties while on a wine run at the now-defunct Merchant of Vino in Ann Arbor. The wine steward noticed that I was looking at their sizeable display of coffees, so he came over and offered me a sample which he had poured from a freshly-brewed pot in the back room. It was an Allegro variety (which one escapes me); I was immediately impressed by its quality and flavor. When I checked the prices, I was converted. This coffee was every bit as good as the types I had been buying from boutique coffee merchants, at a fraction of the cost. Over time we tried the entire line of offerings. I eventually settled on the Extra Dark French Roast, which, more than any other, duplicates the experience of the finest coffees in the finest restaurants in the City of Lights.

Well, when the Merchant of Vino suddenly closed a year or two ago, I was heartbroken. Until discovering that the Allegro line was now owned by Whole Foods Markets, which just happened to be opening a store just a mile or two from the old Vino location. Here, Allegro coffees are roasted before one’s very eyes, to order, by well-trained and knowledgeable staff. I like to watch through the cylindrical, clear glass “business end” of the roaster as the constantly-moving beans slowly turn from light olive green to an oily, dark chocolate brown. The aroma is unforgettable. And due to the freshness, the coffee is even better than that which I had previously obtained from The Merchant of Vino.

I enjoy dark, full-flavored cigars; I also prefer full-flavored coffee. Allegro Extra Dark French Roast is the darkest and most robust coffee in the line. I would add that it is perhaps the most flavorful. A blend of select Indonesian and Central American beans, the base material is far superior to that of many more common, so-called "French roasts," which typically utilize inferior beans and cover their poor quality through excessive roasting. This is a quality blend, roasted impeccably.

An aromatic brewing experience is capped by the pouring. This coffee, when properly prepared, is as black and opaque (but never cloudy!) as a coffee can be, with abundant, dark bubbles caressing the rim and a hint of oil darting about on the surface. The first sip is marked by an immediate impression of soft tannin and toast. An almost contradictory lightness of body may be noted -- followed almost immediately by a burst of flavor. One knows instantly that this is a superior brew. The deepness of the roast comes through in its uniquely rich smokiness, while a hearty, complex bean flavor excites the palate. The finish is long and characteristically French. Like the unforgettable coffee served at Hôtel Lancaster, my favorite hotel on the Champs Elysées -- this coffee could, by flavor alone, rouse a weary, jet-lagged traveler and get him off to his first meeting with a smile on his face.

This superior product from Allegro is sensibly priced, widely available, and has proven to be absolutely consistent. Curiously light-bodied but incredibly full-flavored, not too winey but full of soft, supple tannins and enticing smokiness, the Allegro Extra Dark French Roast has earned its place as my favorite morning coffee. It is highly recommended.

Some time ago I picked up a handful of these smokes at JR Cigar in Southfield, mainly because of the price.  A 6.25 x 50 Honduran toro that looks this nice, for under three dollars?  I figured it'd be worth a try.  The tobacconists warned me that they're milder than my usual sticks; I agreed but suggested that even a full-bodied-cigar smoker may have occasions where a mild to medium cigar is called for.  After all, I have one side of one humidor that's filled with Montecristos -- the best-known, and one of the finest, most complex milder cigars out there.

These La Corona toros have been in one humidor or another for months now.  I had already smoked a few of the sticks before taking notes for this entry; this time I paid careful attention to the experience.  As with the others I had smoked, the construction appeared to be excellent.  Wrapped in a medium-buff Conneticut Shade wrapper, this slightly veiny cigar was nevertheless attractive.  It had a medium-weight feel in the hand.  The most noticeable characteristic isn't the cigar itself but the gaudy band.  In my opinion, this label is overdone -- a too fancy, gold-leaf-dominated thing with a cheesy picture of a woman in the middle.

The appellation on its label, Raclette au lait cru du haut-Livradois, indicates that this semi-hard cow's milk cheese hails from the mountainous region of France known as Livradois.  Raclette shares its name with a traditional Alpine French / Swiss dish which is made with this cheese as an ingredient.  The name Raclette comes from the French infinitive racler which means to scrape; this reflects the traditional recipe for making this dish.  Age-old custom specifies that a sizeable wedge of Raclette cheese be warmed gently over an open fire; and when warm, that it be shaved or scraped over a special preparation of boiled potatoes, thick pieces of ham, select vegetables, and cornichon pickles.

The dish sounds fabulous.  But Raclette cheese is quite marvelous on its own.  One may find Raclette cheese which has been produced on either the Swiss or the French side of the border; the type I have before me is of the French variety, made in Auvergne by the Société Fromagèrie du LIVRADOIS, or SFR.  It is certified to have been carefully aged over 60 days before being packaged and shipped to eager cheese-lovers in the New World such as myself.

My sample is a 1.13 pound, 30º wedge, cut from an approximately 12" diameter by 2.5" thick wheel.  This massive block of cheese set me back $9.33 at Bello Vino Market in Ann Arbor, Michigan; I'm sure that, if consumed slowly and in small quantities over time, it will provide us with many weeks of occasional enjoyment.  Raclette cheese typically features a natural (read: edible) brushed rind; this example's rind appears to be delicate, parchment-colored and quite non-threatening.  The flesh appears to be slightly soft, is medium-yellow in color, and is punctuated with a small number of tiny holes.  As with all fine cheeses, one must never attempt to consume Raclette straight from the refrigerator; care has been taken to ensure that this cheese has reached the ambient temperature in an undisturbed manner.

Upon unwrapping the wedge, a distinct and unmistakable aroma fills the room.  And I mean, fills the room.  To the uninitiated this aroma this might be described as "stinky," but to the cheese aficionado it is heaven itself: indicative of that well-nuanced complexity which comes from proper preparation and aging.  The wedge slices smoothly but offers a surprising resistance, betraying the fact that it is firmer than its appearance suggests.

Texture is slightly grainy, but not overly so.  The graininess does tend to distract, but does not quite reach the objectionable stage.  It is unclear whether the origin of the graininess is the rind or the flesh.

But oh, the flavor -- this is a generous and complex cheese.  This Raclette has a very full flavor, dominated by notes of cream, butter and melon.  Flavor literally bursts onto the soft palate.  The finish is long and delightfully milky.

To test its warm qualities I gently melted a bit onto some aged ham (I wish I had some proscuitto around!).  The Raclette melts smoothly and assumes a viscous, creamy texture.  The flavor does not appear to be harmed by the heat; indeed, a nuttiness becomes evident, although the finish is somewhat subdued.

This Raclette is an attractive, aromatic, somewhat grainy but delightfully complex, semi-hard French Alpine cheese which would go equally well with fruit or preserved meats such as proscuitto, calabrese or sopressada.  All in all I would declare this delightful cheese to be recommended.

This gorgeous SMS cigar was given to me by my sixteen-year-old daughter as a gift for Christmas.  My wife later related to me the story of its selection.  Sometime before the holiday the two gals had secreted themselves off to one of my three favorite tobacconists, to search for just the right stick to package and wrap as a present for the cigar-smoking man in their lives.  Once in the humidor, they enlisted the assistance of the proprietor's son, who knows my preferences, likes and dislikes quite well.  My daughter wanted to get me something I would thoroughly enjoy, she told him, but which I might not select for myself.  A tall order, but one that this particular chap delighted in.  The Oliva "O" Maduro line was suggested, since he knows I am a long-time lover of full-bodied smokes, and am becoming quite the maduro fan of late.  He suggested that, in particular, the giant Orion vitola was the king of the line.  Sold!

After unwrapping this beauty on Christmas morning, I carefully placed it in one of my humidors to assure its thorough rehumidification.  After a week or so it appeared to be in perfect condition.  The stick was so beautiful that I simply couldn't wait any longer.  One recent evening during a time of relaxation in the family room, in an environment where the cigar could be the center of my attention for two full hours (i.e., the television was tuned to some "chick flick"), I selected, cut, and smoked my "O".

The appearance of the cigar was an immediate enticement.  Wrapped in the elegant and unique cloth band characteristic of Oliva "O" cigars -- in this case, blue rather than the EMS-standard red -- this Nicaraguan work of art featured a beautiful, deep maduro (nearly black!), finely-veined wrapper.  Construction appeared to be impeccable.  The subtle, floral aroma of the still-unlit tobacco surrounded me as I cautiously clipped the tip of the pyramide with my trusty Davidoff guillotine cutter.  I then prepared my Colibri for the task at hand.

Clouds of surprisingly-intense smoke filled the air upon the flawless lighting of this behemoth -- enough that the event secured the immediate attention of my wife and daughter, who turned away from their tearjerker long enough to remark at the astonishing volume of attractive incense coming from the cigar.

For me, the initial impression was one of heady strength -- this is not a mild maduro, by any stretch of the imagination.  This 54-ring-gauge monster had the initial strength of a 42-gauge full-bodied corona, perhaps more.  The flavor profile started right out with doses of cocoa, anise and cedar, in impactful quantities.  The experience was overwhelming.  As my family enjoyed their program and the delightful aroma of this incredible stogie, I, blissfully unaware of my surroundings, repeatedly interrupted their electronic entertainment with forceful exclamations of "Oh, my goodness, is this an incredible cigar!"

As the stick neared the 1/3 mark the intensity settled down a bit, and the flavor profile became yet more complex.  Hints of nuts and leather now introduced themselves against the heady maduro backdrop of cocoa and cedar.  Like a 19th Century Wagnerian overture the final third of the cigar returned a bit to the initial theme of complex strength, but this time in a more subtle manner.  All through the experience, the finish was atypically long and pleasant, the ash was fine and compact, and the burn was immaculate and perfect -- all reflecting this smoke's impeccable construction from the finest Oliva family tobaccos.  It was a knuckle-burner, for sure.  The attractive blue cloth band now rests in my collection.

I chose this particular cigar for my first review here, simply because it was the most recent "great cigar experience" I have had.  While not every review will be this positive, this one could not be more so.  I heartily declare the Oliva "O" Maduro Orion to be highly recommended.

Greetings and welcome to The Cigar Journal, a new home for cigar, coffee and other reviews.

First, allow me to introduce myself.  For the purposes of this journal I shall assume the pseudonym cigarjunkie.  I am a technical professional who resides in America's sixth largest MSA (metropolitan statistical area).  I am married and am the parent of three, including two teenagers.  I care for an elderly father, and otherwise live a normal, urban/close-suburban life -- not upscale, but certainly not banal.  I am an avid aficionado of fine cigars, having smoked them (never the cheap, supermarket varieties) for over two decades.  Among my avocations besides fine cigars are: fine art, fine music, and travel (especially of the European kind).

The purpose of this journal is to promote the appreciation of life's bounties.  About half a year ago I had a close call with death.  The trauma of this event caused me to reassess my formerly stoic, passionless, plain-vanilla existence.  I no longer take life for granted; I now devote much of my attention toward its appreciation.  As a result I have given up my preference for large quantities of low-cost, pitiful substitutes for "the real thing" in favor of smaller quantities and/or lesser frequencies of the very best life has to offer.  Today I strive to avoid those equally destructive vices of extremism -- stoicism and hedonism -- adopting instead a lifestyle of appreciation for all things aesthetic.

As for my passion for cigars: My pseudonym is in jest, for I am certainly no junkie, nor do I endorse addiction nor an unbalanced use of cigars.  My competence as a reviewer of cigars is certainly not in the expert category; my intent here is merely to report what I've enjoyed, with the hope that the information could be useful to others.  Perhaps my reviews might entice someone to forego the low-quality, mass-produced version and try the good stuff.

While this is primarily a cigar journal, I shall not limit my attention to cigars alone.  My plans include reviews of other items which offer intrinsically asethetic value, such as: various fine coffees, cheeses; other fine imported foods such as sausages & meats, chocolates; fine art, fine music ... but alas! because of my accident and the medications prescribed to me I may no longer endulge in my former passions of fine wines & single-malt Scotches.  If I review these, the impressions will most certainly be from memory.

I may also engage cigar-related topics such as: humidors and my own cigar storage systems; accessories such as lighters, cutters, and ashtrays; sources of information about cigars such as books, videos, magazines, and websites; suppliers of cigars such as tobacconists and clubs; the making of fine cigars; cigar history -- and the best environments I've found for enjoyment of cigars.

At times I may also write about somewhat more controversial subjects such as anti-smoking hysteria, tobacco taxation, or the differences between cigarette and cigar smoking.  And I may also attempt to debunk some of the common misconceptions about cigars and cigar smoking.

There will undoubtedly be other subjects, but I shall never stray from the intent of this site to promote the appreciation of the aesthetic side of life and its enjoyment.  For example, my entries may perhaps include discussions of my philosophy of the enjoyment of these finer things in life.  I may also contribute posts on health and self-improvement, such as my supplement regimen and anti-aging program; seminars and courses such as Dale Carnegie, Life Success Seminars, etc.  I shall not, however, delve into the topics of religion nor politics in this blog, except perhaps as they may directly relate to cigars and their enjoyment.  I may also contribute reviews of men's products such as fashion eyewear, fragrances, select clothing, or skin / hair care products for men.  There may even be entries on other aesthetic and stylistic subjects such as furniture, home decor and home improvement, etc. -- especially as I begin now to engage in these additional, finer-things-in-life improvements.

Rest assured that I won't get into those ultra-super-premium products such as Lamborghini automobiles, as do strongly upscale publications such as Cigar Aficionado (however, I may someday write about the low-end luxury car that saved my life).

For my cigar reviews (and, for that matter, for my reviews of anything else) I won't use a sophisticated rating system, as do the cigar mags.  I'll simply state my impressions of the overall smoking experience, together with my recommendations (or warnings, as the case may be).  I'm an American citizen, so unfortunately those reputedly-ultimate smokes, Havanas, aren't available on my home front; however, I do travel to Canada frequently (and to Europe somewhat more infrequently), so I have the opportunity to legally sample the finest wares that Cuba has to offer, and may report on the same in this blog.

Comments, suggestions, and requests are quite welcome -- in fact, they are encouraged.  I hope that you enjoy my humble attempt at this, The Cigar Journal.