An attempt to place a cigar (a tasty Indian Tabac Candela toro, courtesy of CasaDooley) in the ashtray results in disaster. The holes where you are supposed to be putting your cigar don’t actually go anywhere. They are nowhere near deep enough to accommodate more than an inch of cigar inside them, making the balance annoyingly difficult.  Only one of the four rests can hold anything wider than a cigarette, and none of them can handle anything longer than a cigarette.

WTF, guys.  If I buy a cigar ashtray from a cigar site that is advertised to be for cigars, I expect it to actually, you know, be able to hold a cigar.  Is that an unreasonable expectation?  Apparently.

It does suck in the smoke while the cigar is precariously jammed inside, but there is also nowhere for the cigar ash to go, so it piles up precariously in a tiny space and starts edging out pretty quickly.  Taking the lid off the ashtray doesn’t actually help much either; the cigar is still jammed up against a central plastic unit that knocks off the ash and makes it tough to balance on the too-small rest.

The ash that is knocked off flakes all over the place as soon as you pull the cigar back out, making a huge mess.  Basically you will have a “shedding cigar” leaving ash trails everywhere, because putting it in the ashtray damages it.  And even if you don’t mind a huge mess on your carpet, that kind of damage doesn’t do good things for the quality or temperature of your smoke.  A good solid ash makes for a cooler, more pleasant smoking experience.  You won’t get one if you’re using this ashtray.

Not happy. Not happy at all.  I do not know what they were thinking when they decided that this product was made for cigars. It’s definitely not.  It may work for cigarettes, but for cigars it’s a sadly disappointing waste of time and money.  I really don’t see this thing being of any use in a cigar smoking household, but fortunately I’ve been told that they will accept a return on the product.   The folks at Cheaphumidors.com normally have good products and good judgment, but they made a bad call carrying this one.    Two thumbs down on this ashtray.

An inch or so in, the flavor of wood fire toasted marshmallows started mellowing out the peat and mushrooms with a touch of sweetness. At this point it became mildly enjoyable. I was thinking at that point that this cigar wouldn’t be a bad food pairing with a dish of venison and morel mushrooms in a dark, creamy black truffle sauce.

Another few inches in and the forest floor came back up to hit me in the face, along with the charred ashes of the fire that had toasted the marshmallows. There was still some enjoyment left in the smoke on a slow nose exhale, but the aftertaste had gone a bit sour and ashy. I ditched it at that point as it just didn’t interest me any more.

Verdict: Not a terrible cigar, there is some merit and interest here if you like a strongly earthy/mushroomy and complex flavor profile. A potentially interesting food match with “gamy” meat and dark, rich, earthy flavors (black truffles, morels, trumpet mushrooms, dried porcini, dried cherries, star anise, some intense red wines, etc). Not gonna be my go-to stick. Doubt I’d smoke another one unless I had a specific food and drink pairing in mind.

Sample menu recommendation: Venison medallions crusted in dried porcini and cracked red peppercorns, wrapped in brown sugar cured wild boar bacon on a bed of sauteed morels and wild rice. Demiglace and brandy reduction sauce with black truffles and sun-dried apricots. An intense old vine Zinfandel wine to drink, or possibly a very dark stout beer.

This stick doesn’t get any thumbs up from the Herfergrrl, but it’s not exactly a thumbs-down either.  If you like this taste profile, or if you are planning a food or drink pairing that involves a lot of dark, peaty, earthy, mushroomy flavors, the Gurkha Titan Titan maduro would not be a bad choice.

And of course, our non smoking companions may appreciate this smell even less than we do, since they have not partaken of the pleasures that preceded. So in deference to our spouses, friends, dates and business colleagues, the issue of personal hygiene after smoking can become a crucial one.

Here are ten useful steps that you might try to help eliminate lingering cigar odors from your household and your person.

1. Decontaminate your clothes after smoking. Take them off and isolate them immediately. You can place them in a plastic bag, possibly with some deodorizer and/or some baking soda, or just tie the bag shut and leave it there until you are ready to go to the laundry. Smoky clothes will also lose a lot of odor if left in a damp bathroom while you take a hot shower. A steam iron will also have some positive effects, if you happen to have one handy.

2. Wear clothes made from artificial fibers when you plan an evening of cigar indulgence.  Artificial fabrics (rayon, nylon) have a less porous and less absorbent structure, and will hold less odor than natural fabrics such as wool or cotton.

3. Try a spray deodorizer expressly formulated for tobacco smoke, such as TKO. I like to comb some into my hair if it is much too late in the evening to shampoo thoroughly, and spray my clothing with it. You can also spray some around the room in which you have been smoking, if you choose to smoke indoors in your home. It helps a lot, though it’s not perfect. For instance, it won’t get the aroma completely out of a car.  Also, it’s probably not that great for your hair, but if the alternative is being kicked out of bed and into the doghouse, it might be worth an extra round of conditioner in the morning.

4. Wear a hat (in public) or even a shower cap (if nobody is around to point and laugh) to protect your hair from absorbing smoke odors. It helps a lot in reducing the amount of odor that will cling to your hair.

5. Bathe. Wash. Use soap. Use shampoo. Use hot water. I know it’s a whole lot of pain and suffering to undergo, but deal with it. The stale smell will only get worse by morning.

6. Brush your teeth thoroughly, and brush your tongue, gums, palate and cheeks as well.  Mouthwash alone does not always do the trick. This formula does not taste nice, but your significant other will kiss you again if you are brave enough to make your own I.S.C.S.R (Industrial Strength Cigar Smoker’s Rinse). Use shampoo. Not soap, but shampoo, mixed about 1:5 with water. It is not *that* nasty, and the active ingredient (sodium sulfate) will do quite a scrubbing job on your breath. Don’t even think about swallowing, as it is also a frighteningly potent laxative. Don’t gargle. Just rinse, and brush, and then rinse again with plain water. Voila, your dragon breath is tamed.

7. ISCSR Formula #2: Mix a few drops of pure tea tree oil with Listerine or any other alcohol based mouthwash. You can also add some shampoo if you are feeling particularly masochistic, or if you have been smoking something truly harsh that seems to have emptied its own ashtray onto your tonsils when you weren’t looking. Don’t swallow this stuff, either. I didn’t really need to tell you that.

8.  Buy an ionic air purifier, if you have a few hundred bucks to spare.  Even the smaller sub-$100 models can be a big improvement.   Do some homework and comparison shopping and buy a decent one recommended by somebody you trust, as there are some cheap knock-offs on the market.

9. Leave a fan on while you smoke, so that the smoke is blown away from you and does not linger around your person. This does not work if you are in the middle of a large indoor herf, you can’t see the furniture five feet away through the thick fluffy clouds, and you fully expect to hear a distant voice crackling, “This is Boeing One to Ground Control…”

10. Take vitamins. Not just any vitamins, but a few specifics that seem to help you flush nicotine from your system a little faster and to clean up your breath. Chlorophyll is breath-specific, and so is parsley extract. Lesser known are the following, which may be able to help you move the nicotine out of your system a little faster: vitamin A, vitamin C, aged (kyolic) garlic extract, spirulina, wheat grass, young barley grass. As long as you are doing all this, you might as well spring for a decent multivitamin as well, since all the research isn’t in yet and individuals may differ in their reactions. Use sensible and safe doses, as you can do bad things to yourself like destroy your liver if you overdose on some kinds of vitamins.

Alternatively, live alone and learn not to mind the smell, or corrupt your significant other so thoroughly into cigar smoking that he or she is willing not to mind either.  Such an ideal way of life is not, alas, possible for all, so hopefully some of these tips may be helpful.

Suggested food and drink pairings:  Anything strong or spicy; this cigar will definitely be a standup partner.  If budget isn’t an issue, here’s my recommendation for the perfect menu pairing.

Try matching this cigar with a meal of crisp blue corn tacos stuffed with slow cooked beef brisket, cilantro, oven roasted tomatillos and a devilishly spicy corn and black bean salsa.  Serve with a scoop of cold sour cream and ancho chile hot sauce drizzled on top, and chile-dusted sweet potato fries on the side.    Negra Modelo beer or Cuban mojitos would pair very nicely with these flavors, giving the “Salsa” cigar a chance to live up to its name as the “third sauce” for a delicious meal.   ¡Buen apetito!

Manufacturer’s website: http://www.bucanerocigars.com

Nutritional information:
Belicoso, 6 X 54
Habanos Criollo wrapper, Dominican/Nicaragua fillers

In the natural wrapper, this cigar turns into a bright, clean smoke with very appetizing savory notes, with the delicious aromas of toasted hazelnuts and fragrant woodsiness.  The finish is long, complex and tasty, with plenty of depth and richness despite the relatively mild to medium bodied character of this smoke.  There is a whole lot of taste going on in the Bucanero Cañon for under $5, making it an excellent value in the current economy.

Manufacturer’s Website: http://bucanerocigars.com/

Nutritional information:  6 X 60, Connecticut shade or Maduro wrapper, Dominican filler

1. If you like them, you’re totally screwed. You can’t get any more. Your tears will flavor all those lesser sticks for years.

2. If you don’t like them, you’re totally screwed. You probably paid a ridiculous amount for that stick. And guess what – there are better smokes out there for that amount of money. And you’re gonna feel like an idiot because you knew that already.

3. You just burned up a piece of cigar history like a selfish asshole. It’s kind of like beating up and mugging a dignified elder statesman for your personal smoking pleasure. And now don’t you feel bad? No? Well, okay, me neither.

Even if they’ve been very well kept, old cigars taste like old cigars. There is a papery mustiness to them, and a delicacy of taste and aroma that may not appeal to palates that enjoy a heartier, heavier smoke. A keen palate may rave about the subtlety of the aroma and the intricacy of structure that is like fragile but still beautiful lace, communing with the wise and whispering ghost of what must have been incredible raw power in its heyday. But if you’re used to smoking the best and the strongest of the modern cigars, you may just wrinkle your nose and go “huh? What’s all this fuss about? I’d rather have a Tatuaje.”

And that’s the very best of the older lot; not all will survive the test of time. Occasionally you’re just gonna wrinkle your nose and go, “Damn, I think I’m smoking my grandmother’s underwear” when all there is left is age and mustiness. Or you’ll be smoking nothing at all, because whatever there was in the cigar to begin with has faded completely and vanished into the years. That’s a pretty sad disappointment if you’ve paid enough for such a stick to fund a whole box of Tatuajes.

If you want an inexpensive taste of some of the “front notes” of an older cigar, one of the Cigar Asylum inmates (Garbandz) suggested the Bucanero line after tasting some of the older Dunhills. I agree with his pick. They are cheap enough to be “yard gars”, and while they definitely do not have the subtlety or structure of a true vintage cigar, you will be able to get a pretty good preview of the “taste of age”. The underlying structure is a lot tighter and fresher, and all the subtleties are missing. But if you make funny faces after smoking a Bucanero, you may not enjoy those same notes in a much more expensive vintage cigar either. The comparison is not perfect by any means, but it is a cheap way to get a preview of at least one of the flavor elements you are likely to find in an older stick.

If you find yourself enjoying the “taste of age”, and also appreciate great subtlety and complexity in a cigar, you might really enjoy some of the older sticks. If you don’t personally like those things in your piece of smoke, you probably don’t want to waste a lot of money on the much older cigars unless you’re more of a collector than a smoker.

There is something amazingly decadent about setting fire to an irreplaceable piece of cigar history, and that can certainly be part of the enjoyment of your smoke. But don’t buy into the mystique and decide that these are the best cigars in the world if you haven’t even smoked one yet.

I have smoked a fair number of them, and while some of them are absolutely delicious, complex, lingering and still amazingly powerful and flavorful despite their age, there are many good smokes out there that provide an equally enjoyable albeit completely different experience. And those are consistently repeatable experiences, which will save you from crying into your next few cigars because you can’t get any more of the delicious and irreplaceable piece of cigar history that you just burned up.

In summary, smoke’em if you like’em (and can easily afford’em), but don’t feel too terribly bad if you never get your hands on any. They can be amazingly good, but so can a lot of other sticks that are much easier to get hold of. So take this as your reality check and never mind the mystique and the hype.

Heliculture isn’t all that hard; basically you pick up as many snails as you have room for, put them in a well ventilated container with some tasty herbs for a few days (I recommend rosemary, garlic greens and fennel) then take away all plant material, wash the snails and put them in an empty container for a week or so to allow gastric emptying.  Spray them daily with water.  Wash the snails again when they’re done processing the nice herbs, then let them dry (no water) for another few days.  In a pinch you can skip feeding them anything and simply purge them with a few days of water spraying and a few more days of drying out, but I like putting them on fresh rosemary for awhile and gloating over the plump little beauties in anticipation of a snail feast. 

When the snails are purged, scrub them again and drop them into boiling water with a bit of salt and vinegar (it cuts the mucous).   When you can pull them out of their shells, trim the dark bit at the end (it’s actually the liver and whatever’s left of the stomach contents, which would be nothing at all if you’ve purged them properly).  Scrub scrub scrub the slimy little things vigorously in salt and a well flavored vinegar, then return to a fresh batch of boiling water (or wine) to simmer until tender.

I don’t bother messing about with the shells, but if you want to do the classic garlic-parsley-butter presentation in the shell, feel free.  With the quantity of snails I can procure through this method, I’m usually doing a literal casserole of them.  Leftovers freeze well, but I can eat a whole lot of snails so there generally aren’t any.

My most recent snail quest was a failure.  The trek did however net me a pound or so of wild onion greens, which I sniffed out and homed in on, salivating.  Me likey, since I’m allegic to all the commercially grown onion varieties.  I will make a return visit to the wild onion patch after I locate a good snail spot, as this strikes me as a really delectable combination.  For now I think I’ll be chopping them into creamed cauliflower, wilting some with butter and maybe doing a fry-up with mushrooms.  Yum.

Aquatic snails on the other hand seemed to be much easier to gather, at least in Lake Greenwood.  A few hours of “snailing” last week netted us a good many pounds of the delicacy, which we cleaned out for a few days in changes of fresh water before boiling.  The thick, muscular “foot” is the only non-gritty edible portion, but a very edible portion it is, especially when soaked in butter, white wine and fresh crushed garlic.  Bon appetit!

We started with a round of yuzu martinis with fresh sugarcane brought in from St. Martin.  Delicious and fragrant.  The first course was seared  foie gras with persimmon gastrique on a rich and comfortable bed of savory duck confit hash, piled on a single crisp potato galette over baby mizuna greens.  The Conundrum 2005 wine served with this course was a bit thin, sharp and sour, but we assumed it was a temperature issue and put it aside to warm up to its more characteristically rich, lush and complex flavor.

Next came a Chinese-inspired stir fry dish of bay scallops with wilted pea shoots, bacon, thinly shaved persimmons and a sesame cilantro dressing, sprinkled with crisp wontons.  Tasty, and reasonably well integrated flavors, but a bit too much going on here to really savor any outstanding flavors.  I could taste a subtle hint of yuzu in the sauce as well.

The soup course was fantastic.  It was a rich, full shiitake and bonito  broth with tender, fat white udon noodles, perfectly cooked, enlivened with yuzu shavings, cilantro garnish, a hint of sesame oil and a generous helping of fresh shiitake.  Excellent, and a perfect match for the wine, which was otherwise continuing to misbehave even after it was brought up to temperature.  We did a palate check by scrubbing our mouths thoroughly with bread, butter and water, so it wasn’t the citrus on our palates that was doing weird stuff to the Conundrum.

For amuse-bouche in the middle of the dinner, we were served a single grilled crostini with a thick, generous slice of rich, creamy blue Cambozola cheese drizzled with honey and soaked with aromatic white truffle oil.  It was a party in my mouth.

Next we were served a trio of tempura: zucchini, shiitake and vidalia onion with a lovely yuzu-based ponzu dipping sauce.  I couldn’t eat the onion since I’m allergic to the stuff, but the rest was quite tasty.  I’ve had better and lighter tempura, but this wasn’t bad at all and the sauce was fantastic.

The next course was a venison tataki, thin slices of Axis venison on tender, starchy slices of lotus root that had been crisp fried on the outside and coated with a savory shiitake vegetable hash and topped with young pea sprouts.  The venison was absolutely top quality and perfectly cooked and seasoned, and the overall harmony and presentation of this dish was fantastic.  Killed the wine though, which it absolutely should not have done with a properly behaving Conundrum.

Two small slices of raw ahi tuna were drizzled with hot sesame oil to very slightly cook them, and topped with a romaine lettuce chiffonade and yuzu juice.  Tasty, if a a bit heavy on the oil.  The uncharacteristically sharp, sour, citrusy Conundrum did yeoman duty cleansing the palate during this course.

Last was a beautifully presented skewer of lamb with a fantastic yuzu pepper chutney, served with mixed exotic greens, fried onions and a sticky rice cake.  I passed on the rice and onions, but the lamb and chutney was amazing.  A dab of ginger creme fraiche was served on the side, but it wasn’t particularly good as it had a bit of a gritty texture.  Powdered ginger I imagine.  Nice concept, incorrect application. I didn’t miss it though since the yuzu chutney was so very good.

Dessert was the best I’ve ever had at Deluxe, a rustic Fuji apple tart with a rich cheddar cheese crust served with vanilla ice cream and honey-saffron cream.  Sweets have historically been a weak point at this restaurant, but this time Keith hit it spot on.  I usually stick with the cheese plate over there, and not just because I’m diet-conscious, but I’d order this one again.

To make it, get your hands on a couple of duck breasts.  Or better yet a couple dozen, but quantity isn’t important.  Dry them and rub them down liberally with sea salt, cinnamon, white pepper and brown sugar.  Add a few shakes of ground cloves and nutmeg.  Put them in a ziplock bag in the fridge overnight.  In the morning drain the resulting sludge, dry the breasts and re-apply all the dry seasonings.  This time arrange the breasts in a single layer over a strainer, put the strainer in a larger bowl to catch the drippings, and leave that in the fridge.  Over the next day or two, keep draining sludge and re-applying the dry seasonings, turning every 3-4 hours during the day.  At the end of 48 hours of curing, rinse off all the seasoning, dry thoroughly, re-apply just the brown sugar and perhaps a sprinkling of cinnamon and white pepper, and place the breasts in a food dehydrator for the next 24 hours.  You can also cook them in a very slow oven (not the best results) or continue dry-curing for a week to get the desired results.

Disclaimer: Eating raw or partially raw poultry is a Bad Idea, so if you have concerns about your immune system or are worried about salmonella, this product should be cooked before being eaten.

The sun is an alchemist.  Fat ripe berries release their hold and tumble down from the thorny vines at the least provocation to cook slowly on the grass, fermenting softly or half-drying to a concentrated sugary sweetness.  The tenacious ones that cling to their stems past ripeness ferment more subtly, their sap turning to living wine.  I gather this windfall and eat like a happy animal, my hands and tongue and lips stained, not minding the occasional bit of grass or earth.   I saw a fat larva wiggle away from one crushed fruit, and I let it go, but doubtless a few of its siblings provided a not-unwelcome bit of fruit-fed protein.  Today I am a bear emerging from its den to taste the fruits of summer, and human sensibilities seem very far away.  My paws are sticky; I will lick them clean.

The sweetness of windfall fruit, sun-warmed and bursting on the tongue, is an evanescent thing that cannot be recaptured any other time in the season.  Into the bucket goes the fruit that will survive the packing, ripe but still firm.  This judicious harvest will have to hold me until next time.  And the fruit is good, but never as good as the moment it is picked, sun-warmed and yielding softly in my hands.

Blackberries are living jewels.  The sun turns them into translucent multi-faceted rubies, as dark and rich as the blood from a serpent’s heart.  I ate one half-ripe crimson cluster, not because it would be sweet, but because it was beautiful.

The sensual animal in me knows only the pleasure of ripe fruit bursting with sweetness against teeth and tongue, but when I am recalled to thought I am in awe.  The process of evolution that creates beauty in a seed sheathed in a fleshy endocarp rich in levulose and bioflavinoids, as well as the perception of beauty in the creatures who are thus lured to become the plant’s mobile agents of reproduction, is amazing in its complexity.  There is food here for the aesthete and the philosopher as well as the hungry animal, and I am grateful.