Life has been hectic lately, between my oldest daughter having problems at school and my wife needing to have her gal-badder removed, and somewhere along the line I stopped making room for pie. I stopped cooking healthy as much, I stopped baking treats for myself in the morning, started surviving instead of living.
Somewhere in there, in the last six months or so, I discovered cigars, which was the one silver lining from this period.
It started as a gift for my best friend’s 30th birthday. I bought him a nice bottle of Scotch and picked up 6 real cigars for us all to share. We’ve smoked the occasional ‘cigarillo’, machine made knock offs purchased at a gas station, but these were real gawd damn cigars. Hand rolled and everything. I told him that it’s time to put away childish things like cheap whiskey and cheap cigarettes, and to learn to appreciate ‘man’ things like Scotch and cigars.
He laughed.
A bunch of us ‘men’ went out on the back deck(which I had built for my friend) to enjoy the cigars. My friend was not impressed, but for the most part they were well appreciated by the rest of the guys. But for myself, it was one of the singular most enjoyable moments in recent memory.
I went back to the cigar shop the next day and bought a half dozen more for myself. I had gone in the day before the party, knowing pretty much nothing about cigars. I found a local shop, Beehive Cigar Co, and wandered in. A nice man with a handlebar mustache asked how he could help me, and I told him my situation, and my rather limited budget. I had no idea what a cigar costs, only that they were pricey. He took me into their walk in humidor and showed me at first the higher end sticks, ranging from $12 to $24 a piece. I cringed. Next he showed me the back wall of the humidor lined with ‘house blend’ cigars, ones they have made just for them by some of the finest makers in Nicaragua and the Dominican Republic. He took a half an hour to explain how the shape of a cigar affects its flavor, and the difference between ‘sun grown’ and ‘shade grown’. He helped me select six reasonably priced($6 ea) shade grown coronas.
When I came back I picked up six assorted sticks, to try out new flavors and styles. For Father’s day my lovely wife ordered a nice little sampler pack and desk top humidor for me, so I was able to sample some of the very best of the top name cigars. Turns out I have expensive taste.
Like most things that catch my interest, I hyper-educated myself on my new addict- um hobby. I know all about the exodus from Cuba, and how Cohiba(one of my absolute favorites) was at one time Fidel Castro’s personal cigar. I know how makers infuse cigars with trend flavors to meet the demands of today’s consumer, like the Drew Estate Acid line(I am drooling over a box of Dew Estate Box Pressed Espressos). I know the important difference between cigars, and the higher end tobaccos used, and cigarettes and cigarillos sold in convenience stores. I know about the health risks associated with cigars, minimal considering you don’t inhale. I know how to select, smell, trim, and light a cigar; why you don’t ash and what a long ash indicates.
Most importantly, I know how to sit and enjoy a nice stick, letting the flavor wash over my tongue, setting my mind to wander as I take a moment to just sit and savor the moment.
And that right there is what a cigar is all about.
Taking a moment to just sit and savor something nice. I had forgotten about that, had forgotten to savor my morning coffee in my rush to get the kids up and off to school. So now a couple times a week, not nearly as often as I would like though, I take an hour for myself. I leave my phone inside so as to not be bothered, I take a cup of coffee, a book, and nice Garo Double Habano, and sit on my front porch and just revel in the moment.
bayanni
Myrddwn
Room For Pie 