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Tuesday, March 01, 2005
La Gloria Cubana Serie R N° 7
Ernesto Perez-Carrillo is another of my very favorite cigar men. Born in Cuba to a cigar-making family, the tall, slender former jazz drummer came to Miami's Little Havana to carry on his father's tradition of making great, Cuban-style smokes. His La Gloria Cubana brand has long been one of my favorites, and his Serie R (all bold, robust, with big ring gauges) is a fabulous addition to the line for lovers of the most serious smokes.
Not to be confused with the fine Havana cigars made today under that name by Cuba's communist government (which illegally seized the original LGC name), honest La Gloria Cubanas are made by Seńor Perez-Carillo, the rightful heir to the brand (which falls now under the General Cigar umbrella). Today these excellent smokes are produced mainly in the Dominican Republic, from a multi-nation blend of tobaccos. But a few are still American-made in the El Credito factory in Little Havana, their home and sole point of origin from the post-revolution 1960s to 1996. In fact, during much of that period La Gloria Cubana cigars were one of Little Havana's most well-kept secrets. But when the word leaked out, Ernesto's La Gloria Cubanas took off like wildfire.
Apart from his very recent release of a series of torpedos, the N° 7 is the latest vitola in Perez-Carillo's LGC Serie R line. And, measuring a whopping seven inches in length, and with a stout 58 ring gauge, it is the biggest of the big. This is a huge cigar. Over the years I have tried just about every one of Ernesto's vitolas, but until this review I had never summoned quite enough courage to tackle this jumbo treat. I knew from experience that these sticks smoke extremely well right from the tobacconist's shelves, but had also learned of their capacity to greatly improve with age. So, about four months ago, I purchased four of these massive sticks for $7.99 each, and have been aging them ever since in perfect temperature and humidity conditions.
I must admit that the first one I smoked was outstanding in flavor and finish but had significant construction problems. As this was perhaps the first LGC stick of any kind with which I had encountered such problems -- during well over a decade of smoking them -- I decided to postpone publishing the review until I had determined whether this was a fluke, or an unfortunate characteristic of the vitola. Fortunately, it turned out to be a fluke -- somehting that can and does happen with even the best of cigars. Therefore, this review will follow the second smoking rather than the first.
This second stick had an appearance which was virtually identical to the first. A very large and intimidating cigar, it had a smooth, medium-brown wrapper with fine veins but not much visible oil-staining. The cap was somewhat obvious. The stick had a solid feel, and was not as light in the hand as was the first one (which felt unusually light for such a big cigar).
The draw was on the light side of medium, and the lightup seemed to be mature and developed right from the start. Not at all earthy, the flavor was smooth but full, not overpowering in the least.
After five minutes the flavor was developing along cedary lines. Cedar being quite dominant, the flavor profile was nevertheless not at all one-dimensional. The N° 7 was sweet, elegant and enjoyable. By ten minutes the draw had become nearly ideal, and flavors of tea were evident within the cedary flavor profile.
But for a moment I began to panic; the ash appeared to be somewhat loose and powdery, and would not hold onto the cigar as it burned. As this was a catastrophic failure of the previous cigar, I began to suspect the worst. However, this time it seemed fairly innocuous, and the burn was even, albeit somewhat fast. (The first stick had had a far-too-light draw, had burned highly unevenly and much too quickly, and the ash had flaked and shattered, rendering the thing nearly unsmokable.)
However this second stick quickly righted itself. At 20 minutes the ash had begun to cling well. The cigar was full-flavored but paradoxically light-bodied, featuring flavors of cedar and tea. There was not much finish yet, but the smoke was very aromatic, filling the club's smoking room with an enrapturing scent of rich tobacco.
At 25 minutes I removed 1-3/8" of white ash, which was now clinging nicely, although it still seemed somewhat light and fragile. The stick was burning well.
At 40 minutes my companions and I were enveloped in gobs of aromatic smoke. The cigar was becoming more full-bodied. I was enjoying the rich cedary-tobacco character. This was a pleasurable and interesting cigar which completely dominated the others in the room.
At 50 minutes I removed another inch and a half of ash, which was now more compact and took some effort to dislodge. The finish was full and cedary-sweet; the flavor was full but smooth and complex. This was a fabulously enjoyable, flavorful, and interesting cigar with no objectionable flavors. It stood in absolutely perfect balance.
At an hour and five minutes the finish was incredibly long, full and cedary. The flavor profile was smooth and fascinatingly complex. Fifteen minutes later I ashed another inch and a half, now compact and white. The smoke was becoming still fuller and more delicious, especially on the finish.
At an hour and a half the formerly enormous cigar was now only an inch and a half long; flavors were fuller yet, perhaps somewhat minty. I finally gave the stick up after an hour and forty-five minutes, as I could no longer hold onto it. It remained exquisite to the last.
This cigar featured a smooth presentation, exceptional, complex flavors and a delightful finish. With an even burn, plenteous amounts of aromatic smoke and a delicious aroma, the La Gloria Cubana Serie R N° 7 was an elegant and supple giant of a cigar with great finesse. Despite the one-time construction flaw I still consider this and all La Gloria Cubana Serie R vitolas to be highly recommended.
Browse the reviews through 28 Feb. Monday, February 28, 2005
Scharffen Berger Cacao Nibs
It could happen only in California. Only there could a man start, own and operate a successful upscale winery sporting his own name, then sell it in order to pursue a dream: to start, own and operate another company (sporting a modification of his name) which would strive to make the best chocolate in the world.
The man is John Scharffenberger. The winery is Scharffenberger Cellars. And the chocolate business is Scharffen Berger Chocolate Maker.
Scharffenberger takes a vintner's approach to chocolate-making, selecting the best "varietal" cacao beans from around the world, blending them in proprietary fashion -- and in general, nursing the product through its delicate birthing process until it becomes the premium product bearing his name on your grocer's shelf. His line of confections is fascinatingly complex; as an introduction to his products I chose what I felt was the most unusual of them all: cacao nibs -- that is, pieces of roasted, shelled cacao beans.
As confectioners have lately been releasing ever higher percentages of cocoa in their dark chocolates, I have wondered what pure, 100% cocoa might be like. While Scharffen Berger does sell a 99% cocoa baking chocolate, it still does have a touch of vanilla in it, and it has indeed been processed into a homogeneous bar.
In contrast to even that nearly-pure cocoa, Scharffen Berger cacao nibs are the 100% real thing. Pure chocolate, almost as it comes off the tree. Yes, there has been a small amount of processing; the raw cacao beans have been shelled and roasted, and the resulting beans have been "cracked" into bite-sized pieces, about the size of those walnut pieces packaged in bags for baking purposes. Cacao nibs are the point of origin for all chocolate -- the Quelle, the source, the starting point of it all. They are to chocolate as grapes are to wine. This is where it all begins.
Before opening the sealed, nitrogen-flushed, inner foil package, I hesitated for a moment, wondering how I might react to totally unsweetened chocolate. I remembered sneaking into my mother's pantry as a child and biting itnto her baking chocolate -- I shudder to remember the shock of that experience. Do I enjoy chocolate for its sweetness, or in the total absence of sweetness, am I mature enough to appreciate its other characteristics?
I opened the package and poured a small amount into my hand. It was indeed a handful of small, surprisingly-chocolatey-looking, cracked beans. (I had expected them to look dry and hard, like broken coffee beans.) The color and texture variation in the individual bean pieces was clearly evident. While this was clearly a pile of largely-unprocessed beans in my hand, the pieces looked creamy, almost like chunks of processed chocolate. They did not look quite as foreign as I had suspected. They looked like chocolate.
And the smell -- the aroma was of dark cocoa -- full, dark, aromatic, heavenly chocolate. I tasted some. The texture surprised me; they had almost the same texture as almonds. Indeed, the immediate impression was that I was eating a handful of nuts. Yet as I chewed, the taste of chocolate filled my mouth, especialy in the back and up into my nose. Oh, yes, this was chocolate. But the contradictions were intriguing. The texture of nuts, but the aroma and flavor of full, dark cocoa! The lack of sweetness didn't bother me, as this was a totally different experience than eating candy. Oh, yes, the chocolate aroma and taste did seem slightly out of place with that nutty flavor and texture. But the overall impression was ... delicious.
Yet I wondered how many people would be turned off by this contradiction. People have been conditioned to expect their nuts to be dry and crunchy and their chocolate to be smooth and sweet. But what if it were the other way round? What if we had turned almonds into candy for centuries, and the occasional unsweetened almond were an oddity, eliciting contradictory responses in its tasters? And could people have accepted the nutty-chocolatey-ness of simple, toasted cacao beans?
Once one recovers from the initial strangeness of the experience, the true value thereof shines through. These are delicious, nutty little chunks of intense flavor and bountiful aroma. It works. For me, anyway.
I ate them plain. Scharffen Berger recommends the use of cacao nibs as a sprinkling in various desserts (and even main courses), and provides recipes. One can even make one's own homemade chocolate by combining cacao nibs with sugar in a coffee grinder, then gently melting the resulting paste and pouring into molds.
A fascinating experience which provides a unique insight into the mysteries of that marvelous product, chocolate, tasting cacao nibs is suspenseful, fun and quite educational. I consider Scharffen Berger cacao nibs to be heartily recommended as a unique treat for the chocolate lover who is both adventurous and curious.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Why so many things recommended?
Ted asked a question that I thought any reader of these reviews might have. So, with his permission, through the magic of Cut+Paste, I post it here:
cigarjunkie, i was wondering why you seem to be recomending just about everything you review. are you that easy to please? if so i have a daughter i want you to meet. just curious, hope you arent offended and that.
Ted,
You bring up a good point. I do seem to be rating many of the cigars, coffees, etc. that I review as either "recommended" or "highly recommended;" there are a few "mildly recommended" items, and so far, none that are "not recommended." This does seem to be weighted to the positive side.
The reason for this can be found in the careful selection of the items which I review. I don't pick them at random; most of them have been recommended to me by people whom I trust who also know my tastes. Others were selected because of positive reviews elsewhere. Some have been longtime personal favorites of mine. And still others are similar to, or produced by the same firms as, other products with which I have had positive experiences.
So I guess you could say that the items I review have already been pre-screened.
This does not mean that I have not sampled items which I would not recommend. I've smoked cigars since at least 1983, probably 1982, and have been drinking coffee, eating chocolates and cheese all my life. I've already weeded out what I don't like, and avoid those items like the plague. Also my motivations for this journal include the desire to urge people (a) to give up mass quantities of inferior goods in favor of limited amounts of the better things in life; and (b) to never take my recommendations as gospel, but to experience these things for themselves. Every person's perception is different, and people have differing tastes and preferences. If I can, for example, convince even one person to give up two packs of cigarettes per day, and instead, smoke three fine cigars per week -- then we've both benefitted from it, and our lives have become richer and more rewarding as a result.
I hope this has answered your question. Feel free to drop me a line any time!
Thanks and regards,
Cigarjunkie
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Don Diego Reserve Belicoso Maduro
Don Diego cigars aren't a brand that I would normally smoke. They're known to be mild to medium in body, and I tend to gravitate toward the fuller smokes. But when one of my most trusted tobacconists recommends a cigar to me, even though she knows my tastes as well as I do -- well, I take notice. So I tried one.
Don Diego Reserve is a line extension that is meant to be more full-bodied than the traditional Don Diego line. These Reserve sticks feature a dose of Brazilian Mata Fina filler which is meant to "kick it up a notch," so to speak. These Dominican beauties come in both a natural Conneticut broadleaf wrapper and an Ecuadorian broadleaf maduro. I chose the maduro because, well, it looked so beautiful that I couldn't resist it.
Taking the stick out of its protective cellophane I saw that it was a strongly square-pressed torpedo of impeccable construction. With its sharp, severe corners the band appeared to be nearly creased. The dark, rosy brown wrapper was oily and featured the most lovely, silky sheen. The cigar also had an unusually neat, precise cap and a perfect torpedo construction -- I almost hated to clip it, it was so beautiful. Overall the appearance was quite impressive. The stick had a medium feel in my hand, but was slightly squishy (but not objectionably so). The unlit cigar had a nice, ripe tobacco smell.
The lightup was soft and supple, but to some extent, flavorful. Draw was fine, perhaps slightly firm. My first impression was of a mild, cedary-cocoa cigar that had already developed the sweetness of its post-light flavor. My wife remarked that the Don Diego was particularly aromatic -- like buttery popcorn, she said.
At this point I would have described it as mild to medium in body, with a very nice flavor profile, warm and tasty. The buttery aromas continued to hold my wife's attention. For me, though, it may have been too mild, even closed, but enjoyable nevertheless.
At 15 minutes the stick was burning nicely, and had become surprisingly enjoyable for a milder cigar. There was not much finish, but the flavor was sweet, with notes of cocoa and light cedar. This Don Diego Reserve was a balanced and elegant smoke.
At 25 minutes it began to change. Medium-bodied now, the cigar had a very enjoyable cocoa character, while cedar dominated the finish. Five minutes later I removed an inch and a half of light gray ash.
Cedar dominated the flavor profile at 35 minutes, and the body was much fuller now -- enough to satisfy. Smooth, salty and cedary. And it was burning almost perfectly evenly.
But alas! at 45 minutes the saltiness had moved into the foreground and was beginning to become distracting, spoiling what had been a very nice balance and complexity. There was still some cedar on the finish.
At 55 minutes I removed 1-3/8" of ash. The saltiness may have been diminishing, but was still dominant. By the 65 minute point the cigar had become more enjoyable again, but the previous elegance was gone; the balance, still torn asunder. At this point the cedary finish was saving the cigar from my disappointment at its slightly unpleasant flavor.
At an hour and fifteen minutes the smoke had become fuller, and somewhat enjoyable again. The nice finish had recovered a bit of its former cocoa character.
At an hour and a half I removed a final inch and a half of ash; the stick was getting hot but I was enjoying the cocoa finish. Five minutes later I gave the cigar up. The two inch stub was getting quite hot. It had burned absolutely perfectly the entire time.
At $7.99 the Don Diego Reserve Belicoso Maduro was an expensive stick. Half the time this cigar was out of balance. But its appearance was exceptional, its construction excellent, and it provided a very enjoyable aroma for my wife. Therefore I would be comfortable to say that this cigar is mildly recommended.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Big things come in small packages, as the saying goes. The renowned cigar man Nestor Plasencia must have had this in mind when crafting the Plasencia TKO, a little, 4.0 x 42 cigar from Esteli, Nicaragua that packs quite a punch. Small but powerful -- much fuller-bodied than the rest of Nestor's line -- the TKO must not be judged by its diminuitive looks, nor by its extremely reasonable price. For the TKO is indeed aptly named.
The cigar is so small that it looks rather like a fat brown cigarette. Cute, almost. Out of its cellophane the cigar looks shockingly dark, almost black. The thick maduro wrapper could be described as being somewhat rough. "Oil-saturated" would also describe this cigar quite well. The unlit stick has that nice, earthy, "biological" (ahem) smell that maduro aficionados love to find. For its size, it's medium in weight.
As I lit the little cigar, I was noticing that the draw was quite nice; and then ... WHAM! I was struck with instant, raw strength. Power. I loved it! There is no waiting with this cigar. The TKO provided an immediate punch for the strong cigar lover.
After a puff or two the rawness of the smoke subsided; it was now a luscious, immensely peppery cigar, full of unusual and distinctive flavors and rich, maduro ripeness. The stick was still massively powerful but now also flavorful. It was making my eyes water just a bit. I felt like letting go with a Tim Allen "Errr-rrrr-rrrrr!"
The flavor profile presented me with a unique challenge: this was quite unlike any other cigar that I had ever experienced. Groping for descriptive terms, I could only come up with "peppery." It was indeed a maduro flavor, but was strong and dry, and not at all sweet. This little cigar was so powerful that it was difficult to make out specific flavor notes. It wasn't at all harsh -- any mediocre cigarmaker could blend a strong, harsh cigar. No, this one wasn't harsh. It was powerful.
I reasoned that the filler blend must have been nearly all ligero. The skill of Nestor Plasencia was evident. This was about as powerful a cigar as can be blended while preventing that dreaded harshness. Yes, TKO is an apt name. It may be small, but remember: a small but well-placed punch to a boxer can knock him out.
At 15 minutes the flavors were peppery, grassy, herbal. I removed an inch of compact, whitish ash from the little stick. At 20 minutes when I had reached the halfway point, I began to notice the slightest hint of cocoa. Strong and dry, this cocoa flavor note became quite plenteous and soon overtook the rest. The smoke was now no longer herbal. A cocoa note also began to dominate the finish. This was now a delicious, strong, highly unique, and delightful little cigar.
At 35 minutes I tapped off another inch of ash. The finish had now become the best part, with cocoa galore. The little stick was reduced to a one inch stub, and (strangely) not nearly as strong as before. It had become almost minty.
Alas! at 45 minutes I had to stop. A half-inch stub of its former self, my TKO was too small to hold onto any longer. I reassured myself by realizing that I would be savoring that dry, chocolatey-minty finish for minutes to come.
Why did Nestor decide to make his strongest stick so small? If you think about it, it makes sense. Cigars of smaller ring gauges and of shorter length often produce more immediate flavors, and become fuller, sooner. By making this cigar both short and fairly thin, Nestor Plasencia gave the lover of strong cigars a full blast of immediate and constant gratification. Brilliant, I say.
The Plasencia TKO is recommended. A powerful, quick smoke, this stick is quite a thrill. Get a box (as I did) and age them.
Ybor City: Cigar Capital of the World - Part Two
I could write so much about Ybor City, and would recommend any lover of cigars, coffee, fine food, history, Hispanic culture, or plain-and-simple relaxation to visit there. But alas! I'm not a travel writer, and we really didn't fully exhaust the possibilities by seeing and doing everything there. So I thought I might close my report of our visit to Tampa's Ybor City, Cigar Capital of the World, by compiling my own, personal list of "Best Of's."
Keep in mind that each visitor to Ybor would have their own list of bests, which almost certainly wouldn't coincide with mine. And I certainly received only a snapshot of the place, so I may have missed out on even better experiences. But, for better or worse, here is ...
The Best of Ybor City as experienced by Mr. & Mrs. Cigarjunkie last week:
Friday, February 18, 2005
Ybor City: Cigar Capital of the World - Part One
I have to admit. I'm jealous. My wife and I have just returned from a far-too-short visit to Tampa, Florida, where we spent almost all of our waking time in historic Ybor City, the erstwhile "Cigar Capital of the World."
Yes, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of the bountiful cigars one finds there, of the greatest variety and highest quality, available at extremely reasonable prices. I'm jealous of the weather, which was absolutely idyllic the entire time we were there. I'm jealous of the rich, polyglot Latin-based culture that surrounds and enraputres the visitor to Ybor City, enveloping him in a unique vitality, a vibrant Iberio-Caribbean embrace of life at its fullest. And I am jealous of the wonderful sense of community that one finds in Ybor -- and the ease to which one can feel comfortable in it, and indeed, becomes accepted into it as an equal part and member.
There was a time when more Havana cigars were made in Ybor City (now a part of the City of Tampa) than in Havana itself. It is the place of origin of a surprising number of familiar cigar brands and family names. Ybor City was founded as a strictly cigar-making town by expatriate Cubans, and was settled by Cubans, Spaniards, Italians, and other ethnic groups connected to various stages of the cigar-making business such as European Jews and Germans. It rightly lays claim to a rich and glorious history -- one where many cultures coexisted side by side, all cooperating in singleminded pursuit of a noble dream: the perfect cigar.
Today, with Havana tobacco off-limits to American production, most cigar manufacturing has moved offshore. But there are still many places in Ybor City than one can go to experience cigars being bunched and rolled -- even banded, cellophaned, and boxed. All by hand, in the traditional Cuban way, and usually by fascinating people who learned their trade in the great cigar factories of Cuba itself.
In some of these locations, one can have a seat near the rollers as they work -- smoking one of the excellent locally-produced cigars, and chatting with the owners and rollers about their exodus from that oppressive island they once called home. (It helps to speak Spanish fluently, as does my wife, since many of these folks know little or no English.)
In other locations, once can go inside and purchase a cigar (or two or three or ...), and step outside to have a seat in the shade, leisurely allowing the life of Ybor to pass by as you relax. While there, if you choose, you can don a Guayabera, the traditional Cuban dress shirt, and blend into the community, sipping perhaps a glass of Spanish wine, a cup of strong Cuban coffee or luscious café con leche, and chatting with the locals or reminiscing with the shop owners about the rebirth of this fascinating place.
One can indulge one's shopping hobby in the many unique shops, and in the new Centro Ybor, an outdoor commercial answer to the needs of every grownup mall rat, carefully designed to blend in with the traditional Hispanic feel of the city. And one can get great deals on cigars and merchandise by going right to the factory -- and if you're lucky, you might get to shake the hand of a Fuente or a Newman. (As I did.)
One can visit museums, parks, craft shops and art galleries; one can go back in time and ride a charming, old fashioned trolley; one can see and take pictures of genuinely historic sites and buildings. And one can learn about the rich history of the area and the surprisingly unique part which it played in American, Spanish, and Cuban history.
Finding a place for a great meal is absolutely no problem. From the quaint local Cuban fare of a famous diner to upscale haut cuisine in traditional Hispanic or modern American form , from Argentine grilled steaks to a historic Spanish restaurant with its floor show featuring genuine flamenco dancers -- it's all there.
And one can engage in a vibrant night life, in one so desires, in one of the many nightclubs for which Ybor City has come to be known as of late.
But alas! there is so much to do in Ybor City that one must resist the temptation to try and see it all. For the charm of Ybor City is in its people -- the charming and unbelievably friendly people whom you simply have to take the time to meet. Sit, relax, smoke a cigar and have a cup of coffee ... and allow these wonderful people to get to know you. You won't want to go home.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Partagas Serie D No. 3 Edición Limitada 2001
Yesterday afternoon I had the opportunity to cross the bridge into Detroit's southern suburb, Windsor, Ontario, Canada. As such I was outside of the jurisdiction of that one and only regime in the world where simple possession of certain otherwise legal, natural, handmade tobacco products is a federal crime punishable by hefty fines and imprisonment. Therefore I was able to freely exercise my right to smoke my choice of cigar, without fear of being fined up to a quarter of a million dollars and imprisoned for up to ten years.
Fortunately for me, the Cuban state cigar firm La Casa del Habano (owned by Corporation Habanos S.A.) operates a franchise in Windsor within sight of the beautiful Detroit skyline, not twenty minutes from my home. I parked my car right out front (!) and fed the meter with a couple "loonies."
Inside the establishment one finds a helpful and knowledgeable staff, a relaxing, comfortable cigar lounge, and of course, a well-stocked humidor featuring a stunning collection of Cuban cigars.
Once inside the ultimate, Havanas-only humidor, I made a beeline for the Partagas shelves to see if I could find that one Cuban cigar I've most wanted to try of late: the Partagas Serie D Edición Limitada. In the last couple years I have read so much about this cigar, and knew that only 500 boxes were produced of the celebrated 2001 edition of the No. 3 vitola (a corona gorda). I also knew that the only place these were available outside of Germany (which received 300 of those boxes!) was in the various world franchises of La Casa del Habano.
After a brief moment of panic I was overjoyed to find one -- ONE! -- of these very special cigars left. Digging deep into my pockets I immediately ponied up my reserves of that pinkish Canadian cash (CAD 32.95 -- about USD 26.68) and breathlessly made my way into the cigar lounge with my prize, smiling from ear to ear.
Greeting the gentlemen already in the lounge, I took a seat in a comfortable, leather easy chair, opened my notebook and examined my catch.
A beautiful, box-pressed maduro, this 5.5 x 46 stick had a dark, rosy brown wrapper, highly oil-spotted from age. The classic Cuban corona seemed to have a slightly rough appearance, which surprised me; such a celebrated cigar should look perfect, should it not? It had a light feel in my hand, and was somewhat squishy.
This stick featured two cigar bands. I'm certain that the first -- the renowned red Partagas maduro band -- is what CAO is imitating with its own red maduro label. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.) The second is the gold and black Edición Limitada 2001 label that was affixed to all special edition Havanas, regardless of brand, in the year 2001.
I intended to pay close attention to this once-in-a-lifetime, highly-celebrated cigar -- not missing any detail, not matter how slight, of the experience. I prepared myself to shun any preconceived notions, and to carefully document the experience on its own terms.
The lightup was strong and toasty -- not harsh, but immediately authoritative. Yes, this was a Havana; a premium one, at that. The flavor of freshly-lit ligero filled my mouth.
At 5 minutes, the first taste of cedar debuted, making itself known from within that full, powerful ligero profile. The cigar had an easier-than-average draw.
At 10 minutes, the finish began taking on some complexity and length. Notes of cedar and leather dominated.
At 15 minutes, this smoke had taken on the most incredible, cedary character. That this was a first-class cigar, there was no doubt. The stick was beautifully alluring.
At 20 minutes, my Partagas had become the ultimate cedary cigar. It was no longer a terribly strong smoke, but rather, it was massively flavorful. Authoratative but with a subtle, cultured intensity, the incredible flavor profile was nevertheless beginning to be outshown by the unusually long finish. Dominated by aromatic cedar notes, this finish was so good that I really didn't want to take the next draw on the cigar! So I removed 1-3/8" of gray-white, mottled ash.
At 25 minutes, I realized that I was smoking quickly, or rather, that the cigar was burning rather fast. Perhaps this fact, combined with the soft feel and easy draw, might indicate a light fill. But after smoking a third of this stick I could not doubt that it was absolutely delicious, having developed a luxurious complexity of flavor and a luscious, heavenly finish. And I was enjoying the comfortable surroundings as well as my conversation with the other cigar lovers in the room.
At 30 minutes, I noted that the cigar had been remarkably consistent. At this point, nearly half was gone; it was perhaps a bit smoother and less strong than before, but just as full-flavored -- and maybe even more complex.
At 35 minutes, the flavor profile was characterized by a cedar top note, as before. But cocoa had now become the middle note, while leather was diminishing.
At 40 minutes, I was so absorbed in an enjoyable conversation that I had barely noticed a change; the cedar and cocoa were now accompanied by a tingly, minty feel.
At 45 minutes, I removed another 1-3/8" ash. The finish was almost indescribably enjoyable. "Who needs lunch?" I exclaimed to my companion.
At 50 minutes, the nicotine was quite noticeable. In the flavor profile, cocoa and cedar were now competing for dominance in a tense stand-off. Less than two inches of cigar remained.
At 55 minutes, less than an inch and a half was left; noting that my prize was still extraordinarily excellent, I was determined to smoke this gift from heaven until my fingers needed to be bandaged. The nicotine was making me quite dizzy, but I didn't care one whit.
At 1 hour, less an inch remained. The smoke was still just as wonderful as before. The pain of several inadventent finger burns was beginning to distract me from my animated conversation.
Alas! at 1 hour and 5 minutes, I reluctantly, sadly, abandoned the little stub of what was once a great cigar -- ritually and respectfully laying its remains to rest. It was entirely too hot to hold and to draw from. I literally staggered to the car.
At 1 hour and 15 minutes, back in Motown on the Jeffries Freeway, I was still savoring that lingering, complex finish. I wondered: could I be tried and convicted for carrying that back across the border?
(Of course, it goes without saying that this cigar is highly recommended.)
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Trader Joe's Bay Blend Ultraroast Coffee
A few years ago the national concern Whole Foods Market bought out another, but smaller, upscale food store chain in our area, the Merchant of Vino. At first, the two stores coexisted in Ann Arbor. But eventually the "powers that be" combined the two stores into one. Closing both original locations, they built what is, in effect, a Whole Foods super-megastore in a new, very well-positioned site. Where the Merchant of Vino once was, a brand new market opened, by the name of Bello Vino -- a very nice place that rivals the old Merchant of Vino (of pleasant memory). And in the original Whole Foods site, a national concern named Trader Joe's opened a new market.
While I had continued to shop with Whole Foods in their new mega-location and have also frequented the new Bello Vino, I had never taken a look at Trader Joe's. Until recently, that is. Brandy pointed me there to take a look at their chocolates, coffees, etc. I'm glad she did.
A really fun place to shop,
Trader Joe's fills a unique niche as a discount, but upscale market. As such it offers a full line of house coffees, from very light to very dark. All their coffees are specially-packed and nitrogen-flushed to preserve freshness.
Today I will review their premium coffee, the Bay Blend Ultraroast. It is a dark roast that is designed to appeal to lovers of the deep, strong coffee traditionally served in the Bay area (alas! I'm not certain whether they mean the San Francisco or Seattle bay area -- probably the latter). I was impressed to discover that the coffee comes in a resealable cylindrical container, rather than the traditional foil bag. And for a premium whole bean coffee, it was particularly reasonable in price; I paid only USD 4.49 for the lion's share of a pound (12 oz.).
The beans were indeed dark and fairly oily. The brewing was particularly aromatic. The resulting nectar was very dark brown, almost rosy in color. But the first taste was somewhat disappointing. There was a certain harshness about it that did not please. Something's wrong, I mused. Perhaps it was my preparation.
So I tried again. Thinking that it might be better suited as a slightly weaker brew, I lessened the number of scoops I put into the grinder. And voila! It worked!
This coffee is not designed to be made as strong as are some other premium blends. And as it turns out, it needn't be. Made medium-strong, it is a very flavorful, full-bodied, beany dark roast beverage. I enjoyed it black. However, after having experimented a bit, I determined that this coffee, being full of flavor even when prepared medium-strength, stands up fairly well to cream or half-and-half. Caffeine content is moderate, as premium coffee should be.
Despite its sensitivity to preparation strength, this is a hearty, authentic West Coast dark blend, full of fine flavor and enjoyable aroma, and at an almost unbelievably reasonable price. Trader Joe's Bay Blend Ultraroast is definitely recommended. Try some for your morning wake-up.
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