- Joined
- Nov 20, 2015
- Messages
- 2
5:45 P.M.: another business meeting at my favorite local business hangout in Beijing. I order my regular, an Old Fashioned, grab the cigar menu and there it is: Cuban cigars. A typical smoker’s paradise, but my own Dante’s Inferno.
The usual suspects are all on the list. Cohiba, Montecristo, Romeo y Julieta, Fonseca -- the list is endless, dropping ‘big names’ effortlessly and shallowly. I have an insatiable urge to have a cigar with my Old Fashioned, even at the exorbitant price of $45USD a cigar. This is my conundrum: it’s not the price that drives me insane, it’s the fact that there’s a good chance that these cigars are either counterfeit or stale because of improper storage.
I place the menu down, use my common sense, and ignore my urge to smoke. However. after three drinks, my common sense has kissed me goodbye and walked out the door. I give in. I grab the menu and I order a cigar. Using whatever’s left of my instincts, I think to order a lesser-known brand, maybe a Fonseca or Cuaba, because maybe there’ll be a chance that they’re actually genuine.
I call over the waiter, point to the cigar, and he scampers off, bringing me a box of cigars, cutters, and a torch. I pour over the box, looking, touching, and smelling them with all of my 25 years of experience, and I pick the best out of the bin. I’m not convinced; I’ve smoked Cubans in Zurich and Canada, and I don’t remember them being quite like the ones in front of me.
So, I take a drink and proceed with my ritual of lighting. I gently remove the label, pour over it for one more time to check for any tell-tale signs of it being counterfeit, but at this point I can’t have any buyer’s remorse. I start gently warming my cigar, and then I start toasting it, blowing gently to get an even amber cherry glow. Once I see that fully rounded red amber cherry, I proceed to cut my cigar.
I place the cigar in my mouth, strongly puff it to have a proper burn, lay the cigar down grab my drink cleanse my palate. I take a gentle slow puff, I hold it and slowly expel the smoke and then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This tastes disgusting. It’s a fetid slurry of hamster piss and aromas of dumpster, but, maybe I’m wrong. I puff again, but to no avail. It’s just another bad cigar in Asia.
I sit there in my sorrow, order another Old Fashioned and refuse to smoke the cigar I ordered. I reminisce all those cigars I smoked back home in Miami, and I ask myself why I can’t find them in China.
There begins my quest to educate and bring quality non-Cuban cigars to Asia.
By: Franjose Yglesias of Cathay Cigars of Asia - May 4th, 2015
The usual suspects are all on the list. Cohiba, Montecristo, Romeo y Julieta, Fonseca -- the list is endless, dropping ‘big names’ effortlessly and shallowly. I have an insatiable urge to have a cigar with my Old Fashioned, even at the exorbitant price of $45USD a cigar. This is my conundrum: it’s not the price that drives me insane, it’s the fact that there’s a good chance that these cigars are either counterfeit or stale because of improper storage.
I place the menu down, use my common sense, and ignore my urge to smoke. However. after three drinks, my common sense has kissed me goodbye and walked out the door. I give in. I grab the menu and I order a cigar. Using whatever’s left of my instincts, I think to order a lesser-known brand, maybe a Fonseca or Cuaba, because maybe there’ll be a chance that they’re actually genuine.
I call over the waiter, point to the cigar, and he scampers off, bringing me a box of cigars, cutters, and a torch. I pour over the box, looking, touching, and smelling them with all of my 25 years of experience, and I pick the best out of the bin. I’m not convinced; I’ve smoked Cubans in Zurich and Canada, and I don’t remember them being quite like the ones in front of me.
So, I take a drink and proceed with my ritual of lighting. I gently remove the label, pour over it for one more time to check for any tell-tale signs of it being counterfeit, but at this point I can’t have any buyer’s remorse. I start gently warming my cigar, and then I start toasting it, blowing gently to get an even amber cherry glow. Once I see that fully rounded red amber cherry, I proceed to cut my cigar.
I place the cigar in my mouth, strongly puff it to have a proper burn, lay the cigar down grab my drink cleanse my palate. I take a gentle slow puff, I hold it and slowly expel the smoke and then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This tastes disgusting. It’s a fetid slurry of hamster piss and aromas of dumpster, but, maybe I’m wrong. I puff again, but to no avail. It’s just another bad cigar in Asia.
I sit there in my sorrow, order another Old Fashioned and refuse to smoke the cigar I ordered. I reminisce all those cigars I smoked back home in Miami, and I ask myself why I can’t find them in China.
There begins my quest to educate and bring quality non-Cuban cigars to Asia.
By: Franjose Yglesias of Cathay Cigars of Asia - May 4th, 2015
