Cuellar Connecticut Kreme: A Great Discovery (Or: Corruption of my own child, part 2)

Things you should know:

1. I don't confuse easily. Except anything to do with math. Math is stupid and I challenge it to a duel.
2. I am on a first name basis with the mighty, mighty internets and am pretty darned good at researching stuff. Except math. Researching math is stupid.
3. Different is cool. Except differential equations because that's math. Differential equations (sons of math) are stupid.
4. I know the font changes in this post. I'm sorry. I tried to fix it. And then I stopped trying because I needed to keep a modicum of sanity.

Keep these things in mind. They're going to come in handy later.

Sean (my son) and Valentino and I were on a bit of a mission* to fill a small humidor for the young one (well, relatively young one). We went with a bunch that we already loved--Nub, J Grotto Silk, My Father Connecticut.... Look! Here's a picture!
 

There were more when he left the house. Hmmm...I wonder what happened...

 
Anyway, the story isn't about that. It's about this...

The cigar with so many names it's almost unfindable
unless you have the correct combination.
Unless, also, you happen to see them in your favorite tobacco shop.

 
In the sea of deliciously dark cigar boxes sat a glossy, heavy-duty white box. Oooh. Shiny. But I was a little apprehensive. It was different. I like different. But was it one of those issues where the packaging made up for an inferior product? Because that happens, as we all know. (I'd give an example, but I don't want to call anyone out, so, yeah. You know what I mean.)
 
But our tobacconists, the incomparable Paul and Mark at Mr. J's assured us the Cuellar Connecticut Kreme by Villiger Cigars was more than just a pretty box. The cigar comes in four sizes--
 
Robusto: 5 x 48
Toro Gordo: 6 x 54
Churchill: 7 x 50
Torpedo: 6 1/4 x 52
 
We purchased three of the four and took the Toro Gordo on the road with us to Federal Hill. There, we took my boy on a tour of the place and ultimately landed at the LaPigna statue at Garibaldi Square. (Yes, we're creatures of habit.)
 
After deciding who would sit on the wet spot of the bench (not me; I'm a girl and as such, am afforded certain benefits thanks to my delicate female sensibilities.**), we settled in and the gentlemen started their butane engines, toasting and lighting.
 
This cigar was launched at the IPCPA in Las Vegas recently, so digging up a ton of research materials proved difficult. Finding a picture of that shiny white box? Impossible, so don't ask. But the things I do for you folks!!! Here are some details!
 
Wrapper: Ecuadorian Connecticut Leaf
Binder: Cuban Seed Piloto Ligero
Filler: Cuban Seed and Criollo 98

We chose this as an addition to the new humidor because of the lightness--our goal wasn't to blast my boy's taste buds into the stratosphere so early in the game.
 

Where I did not want my son's taste buds to go. [source]

The mild choice proved perfect for our new cigar smoker. He said, as he progressed from the first to second third, "It tingled my tongue but then mellowed out."
 
The folks at Cigar Coop had the same experience, but with much more detail. "The start to the Cuéllar Connecticut Krēmē surprised me with black pepper notes right out of the gate. There also was a light 'twang' on the tongue from the pepper notes. I also detected the pepper notes on the retro-hale - something that would be present throughout the cigar experience. Once the pepper subsided, notes of cream and wood emerged. There also was a subtle fruit sweetness in the background."
 
As I experience the second-hand smoke in stereo, I, too, sensed the pepper but also the long-lasting creaminess, which you all know I am a serious fan of inhaling.
 
Our in-house cigar expert, Valentino himself, concurred that this smoke ranked high on his list. "A good breakfast smoke," he said. "A good, smooth entry into the day. Although it's still smooth and wonderful at any time of day."
 
Jack from StogieNet.com said about this cigar, "Smooth is the name of the game....The overall flavor is a creamy smooth woodiness.  Lemon curd, fresh hay, and some grassy notes are in there too.  I have found that grassy notes can be a bit harsh in Connecticut cigars but this cigar is so smooth that the flavor fits perfectly.  A very mild cedar spice, light coffee, and a nice herbal note appear in the middle of the cigar.  Here the creaminess really starts to shine.  There is almost no bite to the smoke at all.  As you can imagine, it is an exceptionally mild cigar...but it does lean higher on the mild scale as you smoke it.  The filler contains 16  year old criollo tobacco, hence the smooth body.  Some caramel,vanilla, nuts, and extremely smooth woody characters pop up towards the end of the cigar.  I am blown away.  It doesn't get hot or harsh at the end either.  Superb smoke all around."
 

I know. Lousy picture. You get the gist.

  
Where does the confusion come in? Don't just ask the mighty, mighty internets for info on Kreme cigars because you will wind up in Krispy Kreme hell.*** And don't look on the Villiger website, because you'll find lots of great info, but not on this baby. This cigar, in fact, has so many varied monikers, and Villiger so many logos, I almost gave up. Almost.
 

 
 
So I went even deeper into the internet and sought out Carolyn with Villiger Cigars. (Thanks, facebook!) She directed me to the Cueller website, which I wouldn't have found in a zillion years! You should totally check it out!
 
I also found this pretty interesting information. "The Cuellar is named for Diego Velázquez de Cuéllar. Velázquez was a Spanish conquistador who sailed with Christopher Columbus on his second voyage to the New World in 1493. He settled in Hispaniola (the island that the Dominican Republic was a part of). Eventually he played an integral role in the conquest of Cuba and by 1515 he was appointed Governor of Cuba. The Connecticut Krēmē is derived from the wrapper (Ecuadorian Connecticut) and the cigar's creamy profile." [source]
 

"Hey! Where are my royalties?"

 
Of course, I also can't find these cigars online anywhere,**** so I can't secretly ship them to my son! Or Valentino!***** But I can head back to Mr. J's and scoop up a handful or two. I'm sure no one will mind. And it won't matter what I call them. I'll just look for the shiny, white boxes.******  
 
  *With shenanigans and sneakiness involved, but that's a post for another day.
 
**Stop laughing, you scoundrel.
 
***Hell because we live in Dunkin' Donuts central, with the head office less than an hour away. No Krispy Kremes anywhere around here. ::weeps::
 
****Although I will admit that I haven't searched very hard and am always looking for an excuse to go to visit our friends at Mr. J's.
 
*****I like to order cigars and ship them to him as a surprise. Tee hee! Although that won't work here, I guess. Dang.
 
******Private joke for Sean and Valentino: Boxen.

Close, but no cigar. Or: Please don't sniff the cello

Valentino and I frequently hold Battle of the Mediterranean.*

[source]

In his corner: Italy, from whence come sauces and spices and flavor and deliciousness in all forms (mostly).**

[source]

In my corner: Portugal, from whence comes chourico. Apparently other things too, but 1. My Portuguese is watered down with English and Irish and 2. My Portuguese people are not fans of spices or flavor. Five or so years ago, when my son (who is 26? 27? Math is hard.) had his first meal at Valentino's house, his face lit up with his first bite. "Mom," he said, "This food has flavor!"

One of our favorite things to do in the summer is head to Boston to the Italian festivals and eat and smoke (him) and second-hand smoke (me) cigars and talk to people and all the other fun things that happen when you're part of the "family." How cool that we'd be able to do that with the Portuguese folks! And the Feast of the Blessed Sacrament in New Bedford, MA had just started! And we were close!

His thought bubble screamed his intentions, which, actually, they usually do. This time: Roam around the Portuguese feast and eat all the foods and smoke a cigar.

Except.

No cigar. He left the house with cutter and lighter. And not one cigar.

But food! I got excited about Valentino trying cacoila and malassadas***: the food of my people. He was not impressed with the savory (except for the chourico, everything was pretty bland), but really liked the sweet.****

As we walked around, full but kinda unsatisfied, we happened upon Rolling Stogies. Know what that meant? Cigars! We'd met up with these folks at the Boston festivals over the past few years, and we chatted with them while deciding the perfect stick for the Blessed Sacrament--something sweet and creamy to offset the spiciness in the air (although not in the food).

The Nub Connecticut won, in case you were wondering.
[source]

While we were chatting and choosing, this thing happened.  In fact, this thing happens a lot, but I've never been this close to the horror before.

As Valentino chatted, I watched a guy in his 30s look around, obviously unfamiliar with even the basics of the cigar culture. You know how when you're watching a child, you're always unsure whether to step in or let them make their own mistakes and learn from them? That was me.

I stood back, watching this guy as he picked up the cigar, sniffed it through the cello, said, "Hmmm. That's nice." Then he held it out to his lady friend. She sniffed and made appreciative noises as well.

[source]

As unsatisfying as sniffing a premium cigar through its cello wrapper, the Feast of the Blessed Sacrament left Valentino longing for his Italian festivals in Boston's North End.  See you soon, Fisherman's Feast and St. Anthony! (And yes, that does mean that he wins this round. And no, I'm not telling you what he wins.)


*Different from Battle of the Culinary Schools. I know it's hard to keep up, since food is involved in both. And pretty much everything else we do.

**Except desserts. No offense, but his people do not do sugar and/or dessert well.******

***Which he decided to call "Miley Cyrus" and now, my people weep.

****Because my people know the sweet stuff.

*****Cheese is not a dessert.

The Case of the Mashed and Mangled Nub

While off at Man Camp* to play in a golf tournament** a couple weeks ago, Valentino shared cigars with some of the guys, who aren't as stick savvy as he.  One man, who shall remain nameless because I don't recall his name, received a Nub.

"He wanted something that was not very strong, so I gave him a Nub Connecticut wrapper. He lit it up and enjoyed it."  Apparently, the dinner bell sounded*** and the nameless man said, "I'm not going to smoke it all right now."

"I said, 'Okay,' and we went in for parmesan cheese wrapped in prosciutto, homemade spaghetti and tomato sauce, garlic bread, and Caesar salad.

"When we came back out, I said, 'What the fuck happened to this cigar?' The whole end was mangled. It looked like a cartoon gun that had exploded. It had the shape of a blunderbuss."

"I stubbed it out," the man said. And then Valentino's head exploded.

Eva is very, very angry at the man for destroying the Nub. She will make him pay.

One of the things novice cigar smokers don't know (but we all do, of course) is that we don't mash the cigar's foot into the ashtray/railing/dirt/bottom of your boot/whatever. We let them gently go to sleep, burning themselves out, until it's time to awaken them. With fire. Bwah hahahaha. Of course, watching the destruction pains the heart and soul. You might even get out a "Noooooo..." as it happens. But alas...it is no more.

Of course, if you're going to be leaving it for a while, for example if you're going to eat a gourmet dinner in the middle of the woods, then play poker, and then drink one or a hundred tequila shots, you should probably take a couple of steps before returning the abandoned soul to its rightful place--your face. (Unless, of course, a bear has made off with your premium cigar, in which case I say, "Godspeed, Gentle Ben!")

I can't find a photo of a mangled Nub,
so please enjoy this serene picture of the little fella before destruction.

So here's what you should do so you're not sucking in old smoke. Nothing will turn you off cigars more than a big old whiff of gross. (Actually, that can be applied to many things in life. ::shudder::)

1. Pick up the cigar and scrape off all the ash--anything that has been burnt; think of it as anything that looks like charcoal, the black and grey ashes. You may want to use a flat tool, like a pipe tool (although he uses a screwdriver when he's smoking outside. I know, I know. Classy. Sorry girls, he's all mine.)
2. Heat up the foot again and blow through the cigar for five-to-ten seconds to burn off the tars that have built up. Sparks will fly out the end. Don't worry. You're eliminating old gasses and/or resin. That does not sound like anything I'd like to taste.
3. Light it up and enjoy! It may be stronger than when you first started, but that's okay! It's still a great stick!

Except that old cigar taste. Even butter can't fix that.

"I'm not giving him any more cigars," Valentino says, still shuddering at the experience.

I nod and say, "Uh huh," the way supportive partners do.

"But of course I did, because he was my cart partner."

I'd expect nothing less.****



*Doesn't this conjure up images of a rustic setting, maybe the bare-bones of accommodations? Hahahaha. Air conditioning, cable TV, three refrigerators, two stoves, sleeps 16 in real beds...yeah, you get the drift. "Camp" is a misnomer, obviously, but we pretend.

**His team came in second!

***And by "dinner bell," I mean delicious gourmet scents wafting out onto the large porch.

****I meant to write this post about Nubs, and then it got away from me. I'll try again tomorrow!