A Late Night Snapshot

Much like Gallia, this post est divisa in partes tres.

The Cigar
I recently picked up a solitary Hoyo de Montoya Dark Sumatra Media Noche, 5.7" x 54, from Honduras. Ecuadorian wrapper, Connecticut binder, and a blend of Dominican and Honduran filler. While being nearly black in color, this is a mild and smooth cigar with wonderful spice aromas and a rich, savory flavor. The construction is impeccable and I don't think I've ever had a cigar that burned this evenly. Plus, I'm a sucker for cedar-wrapped cigars. It looks classy and I like the flavor/aroma that comes from such contact.

The Beverage
Ever since Sam turned me on to Madeira, I try to keep a bottle in the house. In the current rotation is the Sandeman Fine Rich Madeira. Retailing for around $15, this is an excellent introductory Madeira that has the complex spices, raisin qualities, and slight sweetness indicative of the style. It is a bit more tart and harsh than the more well-aged varieties, but it hits the spot when an after-dinner splash of fortified wine is required.

The Book
One little treasure of my eclectic home library... The Schwa World Operations Manual. It's been out of print for years and pristine copies can fetch upwards of $150*. What is it? The Schwa Corporation was a graphic design project by Bill Barker. This book, which came out in 1997, details an alien takeover of the earth and how the human population will be controlled through dummy companies, advertising, and propaganda. The entire book is designed in stark black and white--no gradients or shades of gray. On top of that the only font used is Gill Sans, though often manipulated in interesting ways.

The book was an underground hit at the time, and a source of confusion for many others as there's no plot or apparent logical organization. It was also repeatedly vandalized at bookstores; if you're buying a copy make sure that it has the membership card, postcards, and stickers in the back. I've been carrying around my Schwa Planet Operator ID for over a decade now.

Barker fell off the radar for a while, but was recently the subject of a search at BoingBoing during which he was successfully located and appears to be working on a new project.

*I bought my untouched first edition for $1 at a Friends of the Library sale in 1998.

Book Review: A Year of Wine

One thing I truly love is seeing fellow wine bloggers in print. A few months ago I was on a US Airways flight and while flipping through the in-flight magazine, I noticed an article by Tyler Colman. Why was that name familiar? At the end it became clear--Dr. Vino! Recently I picked up his book: A Year of Wine: Perfect Pairings, Great Buys, and What to Sip for Each Season. I should note here that Colman is a real PhD, and teaches wine classes at NYU. He's a bona fide doctor, not just a less-threatening 007 villain. "No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to have purple teeth! Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!" On top of that, he's been writing online since 2002 and has recently done some great investigative journalism that has caused a bit of a stir along the borders where the blogging and traditional media worlds meet.

The book is aimed at the novice-to-intermediate wine lover, but there's something to be enjoyed by people of all experience levels. In short, it's a guide to drinking wine seasonally that goes beyond just "reds in the winter, whites in the summer". It's broken down by month, with attention paid to holidays, and along the way advice is printed from top sommeliers around the country.

While the book suggests individual grapes, regions, and producers, as well as providing rough price brackets, it doesn't go into specific vintages and gives enough general advice to point someone in the right direction. So often wine journalism points to a very specific Thanksgiving wine, for instance, that's only available in a few states or perhaps was made in smaller quantities than the readership base. I can honestly see this book surviving for a decade or more, when wine books have a general tendency to go out of date faster than a carton of milk sitting on a radiator. It can be interesting and sometimes amusing to read old wine books. Go back far enough and you'll see things like, "It is believed by some that California may one day have a wine industry that's comparable to the quality of Bulgaria, but such claims are as preposterous as the concept of the horseless carriage and women voting."

It's a great gift for the newbie wine fan in your life, but could also be useful for wine retailers and marketers to approach the beverage with a more seasonal attitude. Also, if you've got a kid, or a cousin, or a younger member of the family that's about to turn 21 and you've been slipping that person a few sips of wine at dinner, give him or her this book. Wine education in this country is basically illegal before the age at which you normally finish your formal education; if we truly want a nation of wine lovers, we've got to catch them early, and this book could be a step in the right direction.

Colman was kind enough to answer the five questions in a recent e-mail interview:

#1: What's your most difficult cork removal story?

"Hmm, a screwcap? Oh, no, wait, those are easy. Probably some crumbly old cork that disintegrated in the bottle. I should really get an Ah-So for all my crumbly cork needs."

#2: When visiting a winery for the first time, do you prefer to go incognito or have it scheduled ahead of time?

"It varies. I have dropped in on lots of wineries on a lark. I've also been to wineries where I have arranged a visit in advance sometimes as a member of the media. But either as media or not, arranging a visit in advance usually means a more extensive tour (possibly with a decision-maker at the winery) and can include some rare tastings of small production wines or older vintages. Each approach has something going for it but I do find that planning ahead is more rewarding. In my book, I suggest that when visiting a wine region, people anchor their day with a prearranged visit in the morning and/or afternoon and sprinkle in some spontaneous stops along the way too."

#3: What's the most polite way to begin steering a novice wine drinker away from White Zinfandel?

"There are many interesting wines that are slightly sweet that offer, in my view, a lot more reward than white zinfandel. Some Riesling and Moscato d'Asti come to mind. But if someone likes white zin, then let them go for it!"

#4: What's your favorite obscure, underappreciated grape?

"Gamay. While it may not qualify as obscure, it certainly is underappreciated. Many (most?) renditions of the grape can be awful, but the best, notably from the crus of Beaujolais, are excellent, offering lovely fruit and acidity and a spectacular pairing with many foods."

#5: At night, with the shades drawn and no one looking, do you ever enjoy the secret pleasure of drinking wine out of a coffee mug and not writing down any notes about it?

"Well, not out of a coffee cup (eegad!). Having good stemware really enhances the wine experience so I do highly recommend investing in some (there are several good brands). But yes, scribbling notes can sometimes get distracting from the task at hand, enjoying a good glass of wine."

Note: I'll admit to using the coffee cup occasionally, but only with leftover wine that's been sitting in the fridge.

* * *

The cigar pictured is an H. Upmann 1844 Monarch Tubo, 7" x 46. Indonesian wrapper, Dominican binder, Dominican and Brazilian filler. Mild and relaxing, touches of cherry and oak. It's a great introductory cigar, as it's not overpowering and the tube makes it easy to carry around or hand out as a gift without damaging or drying out the cigar. Enjoyed with a little snifter of Macallan Scotch.

Book Review: When the Rivers Ran Red

When I was a child, Mom had a strict rule against horror movies. It wasn't a religious thing, or an attempt to prevent my brother and me from being scared, she just pointed out that they were stupid and fake. In my teenage and young adult years, when I finally got around to seeing things like Nightmare on Elm Street, I was bored out of my mind. When I saw The Blair Witch Project, I thought, "Geez, there was no projectile vomiting, venomous snakes, hypothermia, lightning strikes, and nobody got stranded in the desert for several hours. I did scarier camping when I was 12."

But if you want real terror, the kind that keeps you up at night and pesters you like an itch inside your skull that can't be scratched, read some history.

Imagine that your family has been making wine since time immemorial. You move to the United States in search of better opportunities, and establish a successful winery. And one day, the government comes in and opens all your wine barrels, letting thousands of gallons spill out onto the dirt and into the local water, killing fish and staining the earth.

That scene, played out dozens of times in the 20s, serves as the inspiration for this book's title: When the Rivers Ran Red: An Amazing Story of Courage and Triumph in America's Wine Country by Vivienne Sosnowski. This is more of a history book than a romantic wine book; the end notes are frequent and detailed. It answers a lot of questions that I had about the time period, such as the use of wine in Catholic and Jewish tradition. (Wine was allowed to be produced for this purpose, but after the number of rabbis with Irish names exploded overnight, the government started cracking down.) There was also a strong trade in homebrewed wine--amazingly, you could make up to 200 gallons of it on your own, leading to a brisk trade in raw grapes. But the supply chain logistics of the time made it difficult and often unprofitable for the grape growers, and it's likely that the wine produced in New York basements was of dubious quality.

A lot of the book focuses on Italian immigrants in Napa and Sonoma, and the tenuous relationship with the authorities of San Francisco. There's the inevitable bribery and bootlegging, but in northern California it appears to have occurred without organized crime or violence. Prohibition tends to conjure up images of Chicago gangsters, Caribbean pirates, or Southerners running from the cops in souped-up hot rods, but California wine country seemed to operate fairly peacefully on a process of fake licenses, hidden wine tanks, and a few well-placed dollars.

I was born in 1976, and in my lifetime I've watched wine go from something that only snooty people drank in movies (or something that regular folk only had on a special occasion) to a beverage that's increasingly appreciated by people of all walks of life. With only a generation of Prohibition nearly a hundred years ago, the impact to the American wine industry was severe and is still being felt today. I can't legally buy a bottle of wine on Sunday and there are all sorts of arcane rules I have to follow. If I visit my brother in Mississippi, just 15 minutes away, and he gives me a bottle of wine, I can't legally bring it back into Tennessee. I could go on and on about our Byzantine series of rules against anything stronger than Coors Light, but the point remains that in much of the country wine is still viewed as a dangerous, evil beverage that must be controlled and contained. There are dry counties within an easy drive of my house; it wouldn't surprise me if some of the neo-prohibitionist movements are able to capture an entire state again.

Speaking of substances that could be made illegal in the future... the cigar pictured here is a La Gloria Cubana Serie R #6, 5⅞" x 60, Connecticut wrapper, Dominican and Nicaraguan filler. The first cigar I ever purchased that came with a verbal warning from the tobacconist: don't smoke this on an empty stomach. It's also the darkest cigar I've ever smoked--deep mahogany, almost black, and slightly oily. Strong and full-bodied with flavors of espresso, chocolate, and cinnamon. It burned a bit hot, but as I slowed down it softened out. Cigars are a lot like coffee (and wine for that matter), in that sometimes you're in the mood for something light and refreshing, and sometimes you want something strong, powerful, and complex. This definitely falls into the second category.

Book Review: 99 Drams of Whiskey

As I first opened up this book, I heard the voice of some long dead Scottish ancestor in my head. "Ach, nae colleen ken owt aboat ye hweiskeee..." To which I replied, "Whiskey isn't just a man's pursuit, Angus. If the movie Thelma and Louise had been about two smart women on a whiskey tour, I would have seen it a dozen times in the theater and later purchased the deluxe collector's edition DVD."

I'm talking about 99 Drams of Whiskey: The Accidental Hedonist's Quest for the Perfect Shot and the History of the Drink by Kate Hopkins, known to the blogosphere as The Accidental Hedonist. Kate and her trusty sidekick Krysta toured the distilleries and sampled the whiskeys and whiskys of Ireland, Scotland, Canada, Pennsylvania, and had the dignity and clarity of mind to conclude their journey with the Commonwealth of Kentucky and the Great State of Tennessee.

In addition to tasting notes in each chapter, this is a frequently hilarious story about researching a great topic, and in the great tradition of travel literature, the best parts are when things don't go quite right. Troubles with the GPS, being surrounded by tourists, difficulties with the increasingly surreal airline industry... I've been there. Kate pulls no punches, and tells the truth no matter how grisly.

Someone once asked Governor Schwarzenegger Conan the Barbarian, "What is best in life?" He replied, "To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women." While those activities are not frequently on my agenda, I'd like to think I did pretty well here: good book, good Scotch, good cigar, good music.

The cigar was a Montecristo No. 4 from... well, I don't know precisely where it came from. Just in case it wasn't entirely legal, I did my patriotic duty and destroyed it. By burning. Slowly, over the course of an hour. The Scotch is leftover from our Burns Night celebration, a gift from my father who really knows his whisky. This is The Macallan 12 year old, aged in Sherry oak casks from Spain. Nice and dark, rich flavors with a hint of spice and vanilla, and an aroma that will last for days. And while savoring this perfect late afternoon, I listened to The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner by Ben Folds Five.

Having all of these elements in place is not required when reading this book, but if you have even the slightest love for the dark liquors, you will get mighty thirsty while turning pages. Ideally you'd want to match your whiskey consumption to the geographical chapter of the book, but I found that even a glass of wine worked well in a pinch.

* * *

Kids, back in the early days, The Daily Show was hosted by Craig Kilborn. He wasn't the strongest interviewer in the world, so the writers developed the concept of "The Five Questions", trivial or goofy queries that he could posit to celebrities. In this spirit, I always try to ask questions that go off the usual script, something that hasn't already been asked a million times or addressed in the source material. Kate was kind enough to respond:

#1: Which musician or musical group would you recommend listening to while reading this book?

"As for Music, Dropkick Murphy and Flogging Molly are what we had on our iPods as we traveled, but I would also suggest a bit o' Frank Sinatra."

#2: Have you found a perfect dessert pairing with a good Scotch?

"A great pairing with Scotch Whisky is dried ginger believe it or not. Chocolate bars can also work well, but I'd avoid pastries or anything with cream."

#3: Which city provided the most unintelligible dialect of English for American ears?

"Glasgow, by far. But it still wasn't as bad as many people would have you believe."

#4: Irish coffee: real whipped cream or the fake stuff from a can?

"Irish Coffee is a waste of good whiskey. But, if you must have some, forego the whipped cream all together."

#5: What's your favorite type of glass for serving whiskey?

"A clean one ;-) In all honesty, I like a smooth Scotch glass, as I like adding an ice cube or two to my whiskey."

* * *

With Father's Day approaching, this would be an outstanding gift if your Dad is a guy who appreciates a good whiskey. Or if you're a novice to the whole scene, this will save you thousands of dollars in travel, allowing you to pinpoint your favorite spots in the future. At just over 300 pages, this is not a textbook, not an encyclopedia... it's an entertaining read for anyone who appreciates a good travelogue.

Benito vs. the Cigar: Partagas Natural #10

Winter can be a rough time for the cigar lover. For many it's too cold to stand outside for an hour, and the dry air makes it difficult to maintain the proper humidity unless you've got a really good humidor and humidity control system. I find it to be a perfect time for cigars packed in tubes.

While the glass or aluminum tube isn't a perfect seal, it does a pretty good job of protecting the cigar against lots of environmental factors. They're also popular for taking to the golf course, traveling, gifts, or any occasion when you don't want to lug around a travel humidor. This is a Partagas Natural #10, 7½"x49. Cameroon wrapper, Dominican and Mexican filler. Cherry and cedar flavors, wonderfully mild. A long thin cigar smokes faster than a thick cigar, but the length still allows for a moderation of flavor. Highly recommended, and it's light enough for the novice or occasional cigar smoker.

The graphic novel here is The Quitter by Harvey Pekar, with art by Dean Haspiel. Harvey Pekar is famous for his American Splendor series of comic books, drawn by dozens of different artists over the years. We're not talking about superheroes in spandex leaping over tall buildings: the autobiographical books are about an old guy in Cleveland complaining about his life or musing on the world around him. For instance, the award-winning Our Cancer Year was co-written with his wife and covered a painful struggle with his diagnosis and treatment.

The Quitter takes a lot of stories that had been told piecemeal over the years and documents Pekar's early life in an orderly fashion. His childhood with Jewish immigrant parents, his pugilistic teenage years, and his aimless and conflicted early adulthood. Sounds depressing, right? Well, it can be, but I'm a fan of Pekar for two reasons. 1) He's brutally honest and regardless of who is drawing him, it's evident that this is a living and breathing human being. 2) It's a sometimes loving, sometimes harsh, but always real view of my second city, Cleveland. I've walked through the neighborhoods and patronized the little local establishments that serve as the backdrop of the stories, and reading them can take me back instantly.

Benito vs. the Cigar: Oliva Serie V

For the first cigar review of 2009, a product line that's been showing up on a lot of Top 10 lists for 2008 is represented here by the Oliva Serie V Special Figurado Nicaragua, 6"x60.

Thick, creamy smoke on this one, with flavors of chocolate, vanilla, and a little coffee. The perfecto shape is a little unusual but is a traditional style and can be a unique experience.

The book is The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon. It's an alternative history novel, in which WWII ended differently and European/Russian Jews settled in Sitka, Alaska instead of Israel. (This was a real proposal at the time.) So you end up with a whole Yiddish-speaking micronation right next to native tribal lands. And despite being a novel about Jews in Alaska, it never repeats themes or jokes from Northern Exposure, though I did guffaw at the nickname "The Frozen Chosen".

At the heart of it all is a murder mystery that has to be solved by our Jewish detective and his half-Tlingit sidekick Berko. It's an interesting read but it really helps to know in advance about the alternative history elements.

Going back in time a bit, an author that seemingly required a cigar in hand to be able to write, breathe, or function as a human was Mark Twain. Starting at the age of 8, he consumed upwards of twenty cigars a day for the rest of his life, only purchasing the cheapest, nastiest cigars possible. For his personal cigar philosphy, read his brief essay "Concerning Tobacco".

If you're interested in reading some modern cigar writing, start at Cigar Inspector and then follow the blogroll links. Denis, a Bordeaux enthusiast, wrote me recently about the overlap between cigar- and wine-blogging, and while there's a lot of participant crossover, it doesn't show up much in the writing. As always, I love to hear from readers, and let me know if you're a fan of both cigars and wine, two true pleasures on God's green earth.

Benito vs. the Cigar: CAO Brazilia & Sopranos

Two months ago I tried the CAO Brazilia Box Press 5½" x 55, and I'll be honest, I didn't like it. But after hearing about how much everyone loves the Brazilia I gave it another shot. And I'm glad I did--it has flavors of chicory, cinnamon, and nutmeg, perfect for a winter afternoon. The rectangular box press shape is based on an old method of shipping cigars, in which pressing them in boxes before drying would result in a cigar with less excess room around the sides.

I shot it on a copy of Emergence: The Connected Lives of Ants, Brains, Cities, and Software by Steven Johnson. An interesting look at how emergent systems form in nature, in software, and in human interactions.

A while back I sampled a CAO Sopranos Edition Boss, part of a licensing deal with the acclaimed HBO series. (I watched all the seasons, and swore furiously at the TV during the terrible final episode.) This torpedo cigar (7"x56) is made from a Brazilian wrapper, Honduran binder, and filler from the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua and Colombia.

Cigars are a lot like wine in many ways. With either, a pedestrian sample will merely taste like wine or tobacco. But a great one can be complex, and scent and taste associations can dredge up all sorts of memories. This one had a strong roasted chestnut aroma, which immediately transported me to the Galleria in Milan back in 1996. The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II is a 120 year old shopping mall right in the middle of Milan near the Duomo. I had my first roasted chestnuts there, purchased from a street vendor who was cooking them on a metal dish over a low propane flame. Later I had a seafood stew and a Gran Marinier-flavored crepe.

The book is Nassim Nicholas Taleb's The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable, a sometimes dense tome about economics, statistics, randomness, and dealing with the unexpected. It's a great companion to the Malcolm Gladwell books.

Benito vs. the Cigar: Santa Damiana Tubulares Grande + Ports

A while back I got a mystery box of different cigars, which included ten Santa Damiana Tubulares Grande (6½"x48). Connecticut shade wrapper with the rest of the tobacco coming from the Dominican Republic.

It's a medium bodied cigar with lots of incredible aromas and flavors that are perfect for the holidays: hazelnut and almond, touch of vanilla. The tube is convenient for transporting the cigars when you're going to be away from the humidor for a while (which is why tubos are popular among golfers). With several potential cigar smokers in attendance, I brought them along for the post-Thanksgiving relaxation.

Here's a fun trick to do with a brandy snifter, though you'll want to use a good cigar and a decent Port, Sherry, or Whiskey. Slowly blow the smoke into the snifter and let it roll around on top of the drink. It will slowly waft away and change the flavor of the beverage in interesting ways. Plus, it looks cool. Paul was kind enough to pose for the photo--as always click for a larger version to see more detail.

What's in the glass? We tasted four different Ports after Thanksgiving dinner. In order from left to right, we've got Graham's Six Grapes, the aptly named Benjamin Tawny from Australia, Smith-Woodhouse Reserve, and Dow 10 Year Tawny. Three of these Ports are courtesy of Fredric; I'd suggest checking out his detailed notes from the tasting he hosted. The odd man out is the Benjamin, which has flavors of raisins, orange, apple, and spice. At $15 it's a great bargain.

Even if you're not a cigar smoker, it wouldn't hurt to keep a couple of bottles of Port on hand. They're wonderful after dinner, pair well with cheeses and desserts, and are perfect for slow contemplation in the cold winter months.

Benito vs. the Cigar: CAO MX2 & Italia

I've heard good things about CAO cigars and decided to try out a few... First up is the CAO MX2 Toro, 6", 54 ring. A slightly oily Connecticut wrapper, Brazilian binder, and the filler comes from Nicaragua, Peru, Honduras, and the Dominican Republic. This Nashville-based company is named after its founder, Cano A. Ozgener. (The current issue of Cigar Aficionado includes an interesting interview with Cano's son Tim, the president of CAO.)

Rich and toasty with flavors of espresso and chocolate. A solidly built cigar that is delicious down to the last inch or so. I kept it at a steady 70% humidity in the humidor for about a week before smoking.

It's pictured atop my copy of Transcendence & Divine Passion: The Queen Mother of the West in Medieval China by Suzanne E. Cahill. It's an in-depth study of Hsi Wang Mu (西王母), the queen of the female immortals in Taoism. If you're looking for a casual afternoon read I would not recommend this book.

In the heartier end of their product line some are named after a specific country. The CAO Italia Piazza (6" x 60 ring gauge) has a Honduran wrapper and binder, with filler from Nicaragua, Peru, and Italy (near Naples to be precise). Italy is not a major producer of cigar tobacco, but the company decided to include it here. Aside from the gorgeous graphic design of the band, the cigar is spicy with deep coffee and leather flavors. I got a little black pepper and cinnamon as well.

The cigar is resting on Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon, which is equal parts historical fiction, adventure novel, and math textbook. While Stephenson can be a little hard to get through at times (I could not finish the 2,500 page Baroque Cycle), his novels generally reward patience. I'm not sure how well Cryptonomicon will hold up over time, but in terms of learning about the science (and history) of cryptography in the context of a fun story this book can't be beat.

Benito vs. the Cigar: Camacho Tasting

I attended a Camacho cigar tasting at Cigar Depot out at Poplar and Forest Hill Irene. A cigar tasting is somewhat different from a wine tasting. I can generally try about 25 wines before my palate shuts down, but what on earth are you supposed to do for a cigar tasting? Pass around a few stogies to let everyone try various blends?

It's a lot simpler and a lot more relaxed than that. A representative from the cigar company shows up with a sampler box and hands out cigars to whomever is in the shop. I got a free Camacho SLR Natural Corona that I enjoyed in store, hanging out with a couple of guys and watching the ups and downs of the market on CNBC. I spoke to the rep a few times, and purchased a Camacho Corojo 10th Anniversary cigar on the way out. It's a 6"/60 ring gauge monster made out of fine Honduran tobacco. Despite the huge size (and box press shape, which flattens it into a sort of rectangle cross section), it was a smooth and cool smoke with cherry and black tea notes to it. I enjoyed it on a lovely crisp Saturday evening with a glass of Penfolds Club Port.

The 10th Anniversary Camacho is pictured on my friend Paul's copy of The Undercover Economist by Tim Harford, a great companion work to Freakonomics if you enjoy that sort of unorthodox viewpoint of how money moves around the economy.

Benito vs. the Cigar: Arturo Fuente Royal Salute Natural

I've recently had the pleasure of enjoying some decent cigars, and invested in a small Spanish cedar humidor in order to keep a dozen or so on hand. While I can't stand cigarettes, I enjoy a good cigar once or twice a month in the presence of like-minded friends, or alone on the back porch with a glass of Bourbon and a good book. Since I've written here about beer, spirits, cocktails, food, and whatever else is on my mind, I figure there's room for the occasional cigar review as well.

So how did I get interested in this subject? Well, I tried my first cigar at the age of six during spelling class.

Now, before anyone accuses my parents or the school of negligence, there were extenuating circumstances. For Halloween that year we were allowed to dress up for school, and I chose to be Groucho Marx. I had the fake glasses, big nose, and mustache from TG&Y, and on the way out the door Dad thought a cigar would round out the look. He fished an old, forgotten stogie out of his dresser drawer and handed it to me. It was wrapped in plastic, and I put it in my mouth and tried the duck walk with great success.

At school no one seemed to mind the presence of the cigar, and the plastic held up for the first hour or two. However, I was a bit of a chewer as a kid, and tended to grind my pencils into splinters. So during a rigorous spelling test of hard words like February and Wednesday, I chewed through the plastic and got a little nicotine buzz. Perhaps my experience chewing the leather on my baseball glove prevented me from getting sick off the tobacco.

While it was an enjoyable memory from childhood, I honestly waited until my early 20s before I touched any form of tobacco again, and I've probably only smoked a dozen cigars in my adult life. Unlike the quick, furtive fix of a cigarette, a cigar is something to be savored and experienced over an hour or two, preferably with friends. It makes it less of a bad habit and more of an occasional indulgence.

Tonight I enjoyed the Arturo Fuente Royal Salute Natural. 7⅝" long, with a ring gauge of 54 (diameter measured in sixty-fourths of an inch, or ⅞"). This is a big, heavy cigar, but appearances can be deceiving. It's mild to begin with but the thicker, longer cigar makes for a smoother flavor. It's shipped in a cedar sheath with a black ribbon around the foot. The A. Fuente was rich with oak, leather, chocolate, and nice touches of sweet and bitter that went well with the Bourbon.

With wine, you've got two horizontal belts around the earth: one in the north that passes through California and most of Continental Europe, and one in the south that passes through part of Chile, Argentina, the tip of South Africa, and Southern Australia and New Zealand. Those two "purple belts" are where climate, sun, and seasons are most conducive to producing good wine.

Making a wide equator between those two is a "brown belt" that provides the world with the highest quality chocolate, coffee, and tobacco. For cigars, we're talking the Caribbean, the northern regions of South America, Cameroon, Indonesia, etc. Most cigars are made from tobacco leaves of different countries for different purposes. In this case, the binder and filler are both from the Dominican Republic, while the wrapper is sun-grown Ecuadorian.

In the photo the cigar is resting on my copy of Robert Poole's detailed history of the National Geographic Society, Explorers House. Damned good book if you're a lover of the magazine.

Thanksgiving Roundup

I attended Thanksgiving over at Paul Jones' place. He had a bunch of family and friends coming over, and I tagged along. In addition to the incredibly moist turkey prepared by Paul and the dozen side dishes and casseroles brought from afar, I supplied two fresh cranberry sauces (one traditional, one with orange and mint) and a roast pork loin (braised in hard cider, glazed with apple jelly, mustard, and Bourbon).

Paul enlisted my help in the search for wines, and a trip to the wine shop yielded a half dozen bottles. Those actually consumed have all been mentioned on this blog at one time or another: Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc, Beaujolais Nouveau (got to introduce a few folks to their first sip of Beaujolais!), and the Hayman & Hill Chardonnay. I don't obsess over wine pairings with Thanksgiving; there's too many dishes with too many conflicting tastes, and I figure it's best to go with something fun and easy-drinking that will appeal to a broad range of palates and wine experience.

After dinner, the gentlemen retired to the back porch to take advantage of a few treasures brought back from Brazil by Paul Schwartz: Pousada 10 Year Old Tawny Port (made by a subsidiary of Poças in Portugal) and Dona Flor cigars. The Port was great on its own, but didn't fully develop until paired with the Maduro Robusto style cigar. The time span from the first glass of wine to the last stogie died was around six hours, definitely a pleasant way to spend Thanksgiving.

On the following day, instead of fighting the crowds at the shopping malls, Paul and I regrouped with Schwartz and his lovely family to take advantage of leftovers and another treasure from the Southern Hemisphere: cachaça, the clear sugar cane spirit that is somewhere between rum and tequila. The favored preparation is in a cocktail called a caipirinha, which has become somewhat trendy in a few parts of the US. Here's how they were prepared on Friday:

Caipirinha de Senhor Schwartz

• 1 highball glass
  
• 1½ limes (in large pieces, interior white pith removed)
  
• ¼ cup sugar
  
• ice
  
• shot of cachaça (we used Cachaça Brasiliana--this is the only photo I could find online, no luck on the producer)

Put the limes and sugar in the glass and muddle heavily. Fill glass with crushed ice, and then add the shot of cachaça. Pour back and forth between two glasses until thoroughly mixed. Serve with a spoon or swizzle stick to help mix the sugar as it settles out.

Bright, fruity, and surprisingly smooth.