August Cigar of the Month: My Father Cigars!

First of all...

to Chase, our Perdomo giveaway winner!!

Now!

In honor of my dad's birthday in August, we're giving a way one cubic ton (as figured by an English major) of My Father Cigars, specifically the Don Pepin Garcia Series JJ! The top two winners* will receive this:

Surprisingly, photo by me!

A few other folks will receive a handful of the cigars (without the ashtray). You want to know how many? ::shrugs:: As many as the math will allow.

Let's think of them as a Herf in a Box. Invite a couple of pals over and share the bounty!

SuperFriend and My Father Cigars rep Jeremy Soares graciously offered us a bounty of awesome cigars to share with you! (And you know how I loooove sharing other people's stuff!**)

Have you had the Miami-made Don Pepin Garcia Series JJ?*** Dudes, you are going to loooove it if you haven't. And if you have, don't you love it, with its Nicaraguan binder and filler and the Corojo Rosado wrapper?****

Oh, and if you haven't had it, here's a great way for you to potentially lay your hands on some for you and your best cigar pals!*****

a Rafflecopter giveaway

[source]

 

And also, Happy Birthday, Dad!

 

My dad and his BFF Baxter.
Someone is not napping like he is supposed to be.

 

 

 

*As figured by Rafflecopter, not me! I just say, "Oh mighty Rafflecopter, please choose me a winner..."

 

**But that's between us. Remember: We don't want Valentino to know we raid his humidors when he isn't around!

 

***The first J from the Series JJ? That would be Jose, Garcia family patriarch. The second? That would be his son Jaime.

 

****Rhetorical question. How can you NOT love it? (That's another rhetorical question.)

 

*****Technically, you're not required to share them, and we'll never know if you do or not, but wouldn't that be super fun?

AWOL? Nah. Absent because of reasons...so I guess that's ABOR

In the last week or so, you pretty much got nothing from us.

Not. A. Thing.

I'd say I'm sorry, but believe it or not, I wasn't lying on the couch ignoring you! (Not this time, anyway.)

First, these folks visited for ten-ish days:

Holly and my boy.

They brought this little bugger, who I am SURE is always plotting my death or hatching a plan to run away even while he's surrounded by people in a locked house. Or both, actually. Simultaneously. He's THAT smart.

Note how one eye looks at you and one eye looks through you.

So we shenaniganned while they were here and writing fell by the wayside--case in point, it took me no less than 100,000 hours to write this.

Also, Valentino and I planned a 50th Anniversary party for these two crazy kids:

Dad and Mum before they were Dad and Mum.

Mum and Dad + 50 years

Valentino and I researched the foods from the '60s and '70s and created an era-specific spread for a casual luncheon, which included, as required by law, fondue and Watergate* salad. And, of course, we served punch in the supercool punch bowl they received as a wedding gift.

But obviously, we're back, at least temporarily--trying to wrap things up and produce blog content and finish the new website before we head to New Orleans for the International Premium Cigar and Pipe Retailers (IPCPR) trade show. Wheeee!



*Best. Food. Ever. Pistachio pudding mix, cool whip, and pineapples. (Also, pecans, but I think it's better without them.) It turns my favorite color. Win-win!

Happy Father's Day!

He's the best dad ever, and the fact that he has gone 48 1/2 years without murdering me should get him sainted, stat.

 

My dad fell asleep while playing with the dog outside.
I think the wearing-out was supposed to happen the opposite way.

And here's Valentino's dad, who passed away this past November. We miss him terribly.

This past August, I snuck his dad here for Valentino's surprise birthday party!
Yes, the pic is blurry, but it's still one of my favorites. 



Camp Kristoff, Part the First

Not too long ago,* Glen Case (Hi Glen!), the head-honcho of Kristoff Cigars, visited Habanos, one of our favorite hang-outs, a place in our own back yard...

You remember Glen, right? We first met him at Havana Cigar Lounge in West Warwick, RI.

Havana owner Todd LaScola, our hero, and Glen Case.

Well, one night we were shenaniganning** over at Broadway Cigars at a Montecristo event and then later rolled closer to home, into Habanos. And there was Glen Case! It was like we walked into our own back yard and happily found a cool kid from a neighboring neighborhood! Yay!

Unlike the first time we hung around with him, which was an actual Kristoff event, whereby he was required to be an adult in full-adult mode; this time he had the relaxation cranked up to 11.

After we settled in, giving out lots of "hello" kisses, Valentino lit one of these delights, which we'd previously purchased at that Havana event:

The 685 Woodlawn, on the right.
That's the star of this show.

Glen stopped mid-sentence and said, "Where did you get that cigar?"

Valentino took the cigar from his mouth and looked at it, just to remind himself which delicious stick consumed his senses. "At the event in West Warwick," he said, making his way to the bar with Glen and Jarrid Trudeau (Hi Jarrid!), a cool dude in his own right and Kristoff's Northeast rep, to sit with me.

"That's my favorite stick," Glen said. "I don't even have any of those in my humidor at home."

Now if you must know, I have some mad internet skillz.*** So when Glen reiterated the lack of 685s, I hauled out my laptop and began a search.

Pretend I'm currently searching and during the lull, we'll cut away to a montage of information about this cigar:

• The cigar's name comes from the house he grew up in. 685 Woodlawn in the suburbs of Chicago. See? That makes me love it already because you must know by now how much I love a good story. By the way, it's not the family homestead any more, but an ode to your first home? Awesomely cool. (As a side note, Mom and Dad? Don't plan on moving out of that house, especially to move to Florida, as all your peers have. Stay put.)
• A small batch released in April-ish 2013, only 2,000 boxes of 10 were made.
• The wrapper is from Brazil, binder from Nicaragua, and filler from Nicaragua, Dominican Republic, and a super secret place--maybe Oz? Santa's workshop? Brigadoon****? 
• Comes in one size, the 6 1/2 x 60 perfecto--one of our favorite shapes!
• I love love love this cigar. (I seem to have a real fondness for small batches, as if the more I know I can't get it, the more I want it. But that's pretty much the way of life, right?)

Glen and Valentino***** whooping it up.
Actually, they were discussion serious life things
while I challenged the mighty internets to a duel.
I won.

So within moments, I found a few boxes of the 685 available for purchase and gave Glen and Jarrid the info. I guess if I were a really good person, I would have bought him a box, and a box for ourselves...but...no.  Of course I regret this now. Or I did! <--Blatant forshadowing.

That night Valentino smoked his one and only 685, filling my lungs with some serious sweetness with a background of pepper. Kind of like smelling and tasting the fruit pie Nana is making in the house while simultaneously inhaling the heavily-peppered steaks' smoke wafting from the neighbors' grill. If you could get both flavors in your face at the same time--the pepperiness, the fruitiness, and the creamy, buttery crust, you'd be experiencing the 685 Woodlawn.

The night over, we were left with some super fun memories of time with our Kristoff friends and the Kristoff cigars. Now the story should end there, but no, because there's another chapter to the story.

On our way to visit my son in West Virginia for the holidays, we accidentally drove by the most massive of cigar stores, Cigars International in Hamburg, PA. Come on, we were driving right by the exit. And we needed gas anyway...

Just a teeny tiny bit of the gigantean place!
Lousy picture by moi!

One of the first things we saw as we entered the store? (That foreshadowing comes into play now.) We saw this:

Oh my sweet darling...

We scooped these up and asked about more.  The very nice staff lady searched high and low, climbing ladders to look in way high cubbies and giving herself a headrush looking in the store's deep, dark crevices.  And know what? She found another box! That was some amazeballs customer service!  We took them and ran!

This isn't true. I held them close to myself, like a treasured Latin textbook****** and we slowly perused the entire store, twice.

We're heading home from our travels tomorrow and I hope on Tuesday we can do some more research with these, see if they will once again help me relive the long, slow, sunny days of a childhood summer--even if I am a grownup now (boo) and we've just entered a long winter (double boo). I may ask Valentino to bring two.





*Keeping in mind I have real issues with time passing quickly and not recognizing it.

**A real word in Penny World.

***Not nearly as good as my friend Shelagh, who could teach a master class, but still better than the average schmoe.

****One of my all-time favorite plays.

*****This picture is actually from later in the evening, when our hero had moved on to a different Kristoff cigar.

******I'm probably the only one who ever actually treasured a textbook, right? Especially a Latin one? Thought so. Just to let you know, I still have my high school Latin books.

Today, I give thanks for a great man and mourn his loss

"Is that a Rum Soaked Crook?" asked Valentino's dad each and every time he saw his son with a cigar.

Yes, it is really a thing. I had my doubts.

We laughed each and every time. It was kind of our thing.

I can't remember the last time he said it. Maybe when he came to visit as a surprise for Valentino the Younger's birthday party?

He had no idea his dad had travelled all the way
from Pittsburgh for the surprise party!
I win the Best Girlfriend prize 2014.

I'm sure he also said it one or a hundred times when we cruised to Bermuda. Many cigars were smoked. Much time was spent with Valentino the Elder, so...yeah. After all, it was our thing.

On this cruise, he and I ditched his son and my family
and snuck off and had drinks and ice cream shakes.
I will miss my partner-in-crime.

And certainly when we visited in June for the annual jaunt when the Valentinos play golf and I hopped over to West Virginia to hang with my boy.*

I was going to make a sparkle (*) about how Valentino the Elder, since his back troubles and subsequent surgery, now mans the golf cart, taking pictures and hauling water to the troops while the younger men play whack the ball and smoke cigars. Er, play golf. But this idea seems too important for a mere sparkle; it deserves a paragraph all to itself.  Since no girls are allowed at Man Camp, from whence the event stems, naturally I've never seen this golf cart activity. But for years, whenever someone talks about his position as Executive in Charge of Hydration and Photography, this is what I picture:

You can never take this image away, no matter how many stories of reality you tell me. It will always be this.

In addition to these festivities, there's also some good old Italian family time, complete with lots of noise and yelling and jocularity,** continuously cranked up to 11. That's very different from Casa Piva--we maintain about a level 4 with occasional bursts to 8.

They're good people. No, they're great people.

Is that a Rum Soaked Crook he's smoking?

The patriarch, Valentino the Elder, he was a kind, caring, funny, thoughtful man, all wonderful traits he passed on to his children and granddaughters.

My mom wrote, "He was 'bigger than life' and filled the room with his presence. My world is a better place for having known him, I will never think of him without smiling." Yes. Exactly that.

Now, one of the greatest men I have ever known is driving the golf cart in the sky, where the folks are cheering for him like it's the 16th Hole at the Waste Management Tournament. Yeah, he's smoking a cigar. And yes, it's a Rum Soaked Crook. You know, because it's our thing.

Godspeed, Tino. XOXO

*Keep in mind, my boy is 6' 4" is and wears a size 14 shoe. But he'll always be my boy. Of course, I can't remember his age. 26? 27? In that range. Mother of the Year right here.

**I'm trying to use this word once a day. It's a very fun word to say and reminds me of Father Mulcahey.

Call of the Wild (Wild West), Part the Second

When last we left our heroes, they'd made the acquaintance of some real purdy cigars--the CAO BraziliaAmazon Basin in all its 6 x 52 sexiness.

Speaking of sexiness, Hellloooo, you handsome devils!

Speaking of sexiness, Hellloooo, you handsome devils!

And, well, hello, you gorgeous creature! Pssst. Rumor has it you can smoke right through the band.
Valentino didn't get the chance because
I wanted to play with its sproinginess.

After rustling up some delish grub, thanks to our wonderful hosts and all-around good people Christine and Anibal, this happened:

In which the two caballeros become the three amigos! Fire is such a transformative element, don't you think?

In which the two caballeros become the three amigos!
Fire is such a transformative element, don't you think?

I crossed everything, from fingers to signals, and held my breath, hoping this cigar didn't wind up being unloved, especially since we had a canoe's worth coming up the river.

They're here!!

Then I remembered that breath-holding would prove counter productive to my ultimate goal of sucking in all the deliciousness while they did all the work.* I waited expectantly, fingers on iPhone ready to take notes of their every observation--just like a cub reporter following Marshall Bat Masterson around, trying to get a good quote for the newspaper.**

I really worried*** that these cigars might be bat-shit crazy strong, but once the fine gentlemen puffed their smoke in my direction, all worries abated. On first blush, the Brazilia Amazon Basin punches you with strong pepperiness, but after half an inch or so****, it started to smooth out and get creamy.

"Complex," Valentino said.

Caballero #2 nodded and said, "Leather bite."*****

There were certainly undertones of s'mores, although that may have come from the dessert making its way up to my mouth. (I'm a good multi-tasker.)

After the first third, all three amigos agreed that the sweetness increased.  And no, this had nothing to do with the chocolately goodness.  I love these guys, but share dessert?  Hahahaha. Just...no.

Thanks a million to Rolling Stogies (Hi, guys! See you next year!) for their travelling mercantile, which allowed us to own and share this amazeballs cigar. Mike Strategakis, who owns this superfun business (check it out!), reminded us only 2,000 boxes exist in the whole entire world. This forced our usually-slow shopping-hand in the first place.****** (Valentino likes to research before purchasing. I was jumping up and down behind him, shrieking, "They're getting away! Hurry!" At 2:00 a.m. Shut up. I was drunk on lobster tails.)

And then! Last night, while at Habanos, feting a friend's 21st birthday******* (Hi, Hollie!)

 

Wheeeeee!

 

..and simultaneously writing the last blog post, our friend Eric told Valentino that he had a couple of Brazilia Amazon Basins sitting in his humidor at home. He, too, said he was afraid they were going to be super strong and he should probably have an entire Thanksgiving dinner to prepare for the onslaught of the powerful cigar. Ah, the old adage, "Fight fire with turkey..."

But that's the sneaky illusion of the Basin. Even though the Ecuador Sumatra wrapper is darker than a thousand midnights (one of my favorite books!), it still errs on the side of medium-to-full rather than full-frontal. So don't be afraid, Eric et al. Light it up as you watch with a few amigos as the sun set over the chaparral. Or we could meet somewhere air-conditioned, enjoy the CAO Brazilia Amazon Basin, and watch a spaghetti western.




*And they work so very hard for me, these men do.

**"Never run a bluff with a six-gun." - Bat Masterson

***I'm a worrier. What can I say? It's a requirement of my birth order. (First.)

****We're very precise here. You'll just have to deal with it.

 

*****Description, not command, obvs. Not, "Leather, bite." That's a whole other kind of blog.

******Know when to hold 'em and all that.

*******I have socks older than this girl. I'm not even kidding. But still, Happy Birthday!

Call of the Wild (Wild West), Part the First

During IPCPR, the news started rolling out of the desert* about new and amazing (for the most part) smokes, stogies, tobacco tubes, whatever you want to call them, rustling up my interest somethin' fierce.

Let's talk about cowboys for a moment, shall we? When I was a kid, some of the best days were the ones I spent with my dad watching westerns on TV all Saturday afternoon. Rifleman! Alias Smith and Jones! Bonanza! The Big Valley!  Oh, there was fun! Adventure! Community! All the things I love (except cupcakes; there were never any cupcakes)! Plus lots of dirt, of which I am not a fan, but will certainly overlook for fun and adventure.**

Hello, boys! [source]

In decorating, I love the rusticness (rusticocity?) of the Old West, which does not jibe with Valentino's modern sensibilities. He does not love my four-poster bed and antique quilt. His fondness for found art is somewhere around his love for crying babies. (Nil.) The closest he's getting to swinging saloon doors is another viewing of Django Unchained.

Me: Yay!  Him: No! [source]

One day recently, I was accidentally on the CI website, accidentally looking for birthday gift ideas for Valentino. And I saw this:

CAO Brazilia Amazon Basin

My heart leapt. You can see the little bit of barbed-wiriness on that band, right? The band made out of tobacco leaf? The moment I saw it, a montage of happy Old West thoughts flashed through my brain***

It wasn't available for ordering yet, so I held my horses. And then! Then! We were at the St. Anthony's Feast in Boston the other day, visiting with our friends at Rolling Stogies

(Hi Mike! Hi Joe! Hi Kevin!!) [source]

...and guess what they had!!! The CAO Brazilia Amazon Basin! Zomygah, you guys!! It was even better (visually) than I suspected! Who turned the Cool Factor up to 11?

Granted, these aren't actually from the Old West (bad humidity and all) but instead from...well... Read this:

"The special sauce used to create Amazon Basin is a tobacco called 'Braganca,'**** a rare tobacco harvested from a remote region in the Amazonian rainforest. It’s really crazy, actually. Everything from its taste to the way it’s cultivated. Grown in a virgin, tropical land in the rainforest and harvested only once every 3 years, Braganca may be one of the most elusive tobaccos in the world.

"After the tobacco is harvested, it’s rolled by hand into tubes and fermented for 6 months. Then, it must be transported by canoe back to the mainland. Wild in every sense. To create CAO Amazon Basin, this Braganca tobacco was blended with tobaccos from 5 different countries and finished with a dark, Ecuadorian Sumatra ligero wrapper. But despite the breadth of tobaccos contained within, you can still taste and smell the unique Amazonian tobacco almost instantly. An exotic, distinctive taste that’s bold and very unique…unlike anything you’ve ever had before. 

"Additionally, each cigar is finished with a rustic, 100% twisted tobacco ‘band’ that adds another unique touch." <--shhh. That might be my favorite part!!

We bought three--one for Valentino, one for Caballero #2, and one for the humidor (which makes it sound like its a monster that needs to be fed--which I guess it kind of is.)

The Two Caballeros!! With their loot!

As we wandered around the festival some more, chatting about our exploits the next day (party!) we realized it would only be right to give the host one also.  Nothing for the humidor. (Shhh. I'm writing this from an undisclosed location so it doesn't know.)

This is why if I lived in the Old West, I would need the internet. As Valentino purchased ceci and fava beans from our favorite ceci dealer***** (Whatever, dude), I went onto the CI website and bought a five-pack. I know!! While surrounded by carnie games ready to shuck you and fresh oysters just waiting to be shucked! (Again, whatever, dude.)

On the ride home, our love grew deeper****** and upon arrival of Casa Fun, we moseyed for the online mercantile and lassoed a whole box.

Maybe we could send Valentino out to check the fences and do a little redecorating while we wait...



*Yes, like tumble weeds.

**I would love to live in the Old West if there were a few changes, including indoor plumbing, online shopping, and air conditioning.

***Including the Brady Bunch episode. What can I say? I'm a child of the 70s.

[source]

****Anyone else reading this as "Brangelina"? No? Just us?

*****I'm not sure if it's good or bad that he remembers us from year to year.

******Keep in mind, not one had been lit yet.

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!

Yard Work: Camacho Pre-Embargo 1962 (and kittens)

I love the internet.  This is not a surprise to anyone who has ever met me.  You can get anything on the internet! Anything! Heck, that's even where I got Valentino. (Looking at you, match.com!)

 

So we were on vacation in Pittsburgh, both of us sitting on his dad's front porch. I was checking email on my phone because I'm so very, very important.  Hahaha. I was actually trying to outfunny my son (Hi, Sean!), who was texting me about the supercute feral kittens* in the woods behind his house. I lost that round of funnies, just in case you were curious.

 

But ultimately, we all won, because I saw an email from my friend Sean at Cigar.com (Hi, another Sean!) promoting a five-pack of Camacho Pre-Embargo for some outrageously low price. He described that cigar as "buttery" and if you know anything about me, it's that I love butter even more than the internet.  I bought a five pack of the 6" x 48 Toros, knowing they'd be waiting for Valentino when we returned home. (And purchasing them in secret while he sat next to me was sneaky and fun.)

 

Yesterday, he (Valentino, not either of the Seans) was doing some yard work and decided to fire one up. I was outside of the garage, sanding down some furniture we got at a yard sale. (Good idea but refinishing furniture is waaaay harder than expected.) While ingesting fine dust, I smelled something more delicious waft in my direction.  "Is that good?" I asked, looking for an excuse to stop sanding. "Because it smells great."

 

That brown stuff is actually the neighbor's lawn.
He was coming back from talking to their landscaper, who you should never hire.

Cigars International said about The Camacho Pre-Embargo: "Camacho is synonymous with ‘full.’ Full-bodied, full-flavored, and full of character. Indeed, Camacho blends tend to be powerful yet well-balanced smokes that offer superior flavor and aroma characteristics." I was totally going to say that.

And a nice little reminder of his age as he smoked.

According to The Examiner, ”several transitions…keep the smoker interested.”   The article explains that there’s an “initial taste of fresh earth and leather [that] gives way to a hint of spice as the flame reaches the filler and binder for the first time. More flavors of leather combined with hay and cedar take over for the first-third of the cigar, with hints of black coffee occasionally weaving in and out.” In the second-third, “the flavors of black coffee and leather are replaced with a meatier tobacco taste reminiscent of smoked oak.  This increase in body continues to grow with more coffee and chocolate flavors appearing.” The review notes that as the final third approaches, it gets a bit drier tasting, but the hearty flavors “last until the final third where the cigar settles into a nice balance of earth and leather to finish things out.”

OMG! That's exactly what I was going to say!

Back to Cigars International: "The blend begins with a vintage '99 Jamastran Corojo wrapper draped around a complex filler blend including a significant portion of authentic pre-embargo Cuban tobacco - the very same tobaccos used in Camacho's beloved Liberty series. Medium in body with a rich flavor profile, Camacho's 1962 Pre-Embargo size brings copious amounts of flavor, including wood, leather, nuts, and spices."   Heh heh.  I said "nuts."

If you can get some, I'd say go for it. (Valentino agrees.) One of the recommendations is to smoke it slowly so it doesn't burn hot, but frankly, isn't that the whole point of cigar smoking? The slow burn, the calmness...unless you're looking at your neighbor's lawn that needs some serious work--that's a different kind of slow burn. 

 

* You know you wanted to see the kittens.