Quiet Contemplation at The RTH

Enjoying the evening at The Red Tree House.

In a city of twenty million people, you'd think madness would ensue at all hours. And for the most part, it is madness here. 10pm traffic jams, restaurants filled with patrons at 11pm, and taco joints advertising closing time of 2am o mas.

Yet in the midst of this Spanish-speaking megalopolis I find myself enjoying quiet contemplation in an oasis in the middle of the city - well, at least until that air conditioning condenser from the low-rise building next door kicks in.

You can sometimes hear the odd car or motorcycle drive by or the airliner on approach to Benito Juarez, but other than that, it's pure, tastefully appointed luxury.

Beyond my table, the house is dimly lit, the garden is filled with tropical flora and spot lights. I feel relaxed and contemplative. I have a bottle of Coke Zero, a bowl of ice and a Montecristo Edicion Limitada 2010 to keep my company and it's muy bueno.

In many respects, this house is like my own personal Fantasy Island. Built in the 1930s and remodeled in 2011, it's a gorgeous blend of Art Deco architecture mixed with modern interior design, with just the right touches of ethnographic art and artifacts from Asia and Mexico.

I love it here. In many respects, I wish I didn't have to leave. I wish I could take this with me wherever I go.

Serena-ty Uganda

Poolside at the Kampala Serena Hotel in Uganda.

After leaving my house at noon on Thursday, I finally arrived at my room in Kampala, Uganda at 3am on Sunday morning: a total travel time of 55 hours (including a stopover in Frankfurt, Germany). Finally got into bed around 5am and slept until 1:15pm to find myself in what is easily the highlight of my entire years worth of travels.

My hosts here in Kampala are gracious and generous enough to put me up at the gorgeous Kampala Serena Hotel where luxury and comfortable living is the norm and I highly recommend anyone staying here. The staff is wonderful and the attention just right. Not too overbearing but right there when you need it.

The only downside at the Serena is the crazy sporadic Internet connection. Maybe that spot you're sitting doesn't have great reception, but move five feet to the right and a step back and the kilobytes start flying. But no matter, if the problem is really serious, one of their service techs will be here right away to help you with the matter and find the optimum location for your laptop. They'll even move your beverages and umbrella to accommodate you.

For a few moments, I thought about calling some friends and heading out into the Big City, but how often in my life do I find myself with a day to luxuriate and do nothing in particular except enjoy just being alive? That week between Christmas and New Year's in Honolulu at The Porn King's bungalow overlooking Honolulu back in 2004 comes to mind.


Danke schoen Alemania for the Montecristos.

So what better way to spend the day than in t-shirt, board shorts, slippers and lounging poolside with a pack of Montecristo Minis, some cold beverages and the occasional swim in the pool? I should note that I did bring my Foodservice Management and Controls textbook with me as part of my continuing studies retinue (which I didn't crack open once this afternoon).

After laying down some bronzing foundation on my rapidly whitening winter skin, I decided to retire from the pool to the outside lobby bar to rest and recover from the constant movement trying to avoid the shadows cast poolside from the waning sun (it's difficult work!)

I also met a woman (with her visiting son) who has been living here for four years. I asked her how she liked Uganda and she clarified that she has been living here, in the hotel, for the past four years.

At the lobby bar, I've settled myself with a pot of African tea - an interesting and slightly odd blend of tea with ginger to give it a zing, already steeped with milk and served with sugars and some cookies. Somewhere from the pool area wafts strong traditional African music. It's alluring and wonderful, and I want to wander over there and watch the musicians but I'm too relaxed to do anything that strenuous.


Working at The Mist bar.

My mind wanders back to that woman and her son. Four years. I've always secretly envied those people who have found a way to live in the best hotels of the world. How does one even arrange that kind of arrangement? I can only imagine what the rate is here for my stay. Multiply that by a month then by years???

But what a fantasy. You're daily live tended to by the best hotel people in the world. Meals prepared in the nations best kitchens. There's always a pool and a spa, a bar and 24 hour room service to satiate your every desire. The baristas here make killer coffee to the standard which I desire. It would be heavenly - and when your time comes, you can rest assured that your remains will be disposed of with care and your loved one notified with the proper amount of discretion.

If I don't return to America by December 7th, you'll know where to find me...

Another Box Gone...

2006 Arturo Fuente Rothschild Maduro.

The problem with enjoying lovely cigars is that they tend to fly out of my humidor.

I'm lucky in the fact that I was prudent enough to build a humidor quite a number of years ago. Through wreckless thinking and judicious use of my American Express, I was able to not only build the humidor but stock it as well. This happened in the mid-1990s, during the midst of the cigar boom when scarcity was the norm and low-quality cigars abounded.

But I was still able to lay my hands on a nice collection of La Gloria Cubanas, Partagas 110, a selection of ISOM (Island South Of Miami) cigars, Partagas 150 Anniversary and a beautiful depth from Arturo Fuente, including the first run of the then-new 1995 Arturo Fuente Opus X (which I found not to be to my tastes).

It was literal madness until about 1998 when the boom really put a crush on the quality of available cigars and I stopped adding to the collection altogether.

The beauty of this is that I now had a collection of lovely aging cigars. A wonderful selection. After about five years, the problem changed to one of replenishment. I now had a stellar collection of aged cigars, but I was five years behind the curve. If I smoked the box, I didn't have successive years to replace it. I was in trouble.

By this point, I had started buying nice and decent cigars as a regular smoke, in an attempt to stave off the certain financial ruin that was to come by only smoking my favorite Belicoso Maduro by Paul Garmirian. They're insanely delicious but oh so very dearly priced. Open a box one day and it's sucked dry within a month. Good for Visa's bottom line. Not good for mine.

In 2006, Bryan called me to let me know that Iwan Ries in Chicago was running a sale on Arturo Fuente Rothschild Maduro cigars. Super cheap special prices, he assured me. Sure enough, the prices were cheap, the Visa numbers were blazing and a package of Rothschild Maduros were on their way to me.

When they arrived in 2006, they were nice cigars. The Rothschilds were nice, decent smokes. Enjoyable. Satisfying. And relatively inexpensive (especially when compared to the PGs). I smoked them regularly and enjoyed them.

Two boxes found their way into the recesses of the humidor where they layed fallow for several years, until I found them last winter. Hmmm, I wondered, how will these be now with some age on them? Shockingly good and demonstrably superior to when they were fresh. Aging deepened the flavors, brought out a little spice and just made them into tasty treats.

The problem when cigars are this good is that I can't hold on to them. Just one more, I tell myself - until the entire box is gone. I'll share some with friends. Before I knew it, I was on the last cigar of the two boxes.

And now I'm back to Square One...

Tasting Charleston

House Salad with Strawberry Vinaigrette at Bluegrass Kitchen.

Charleston, West Virginia. I never thought I would come here. Nothing against the city, it just was never on my list of places to visit though I must say that there's a certain charm to this place. Walking downtown, the old buildings look cool and I'm tempted to put a Spro here.

Of course, there's lots of vacant shopfronts in downtown Charleston, attesting to its struggle to attract more people to city life. According to Tom hanging out at The Squire, Charleston's population of 50,000 swells to 150,000 during the day. Sounds like a lot until you realize that Baltimore's population is just under a million.


Rueben Kincaid - house cured West Virginia beef brisket with sauerkraut, swiss cheese and Sputnik dressing.

Still, finding parking in Charleston is not easy. They don't have enough. Sure, they've got great looking brick paved sidewalks and streets but the parking is precious and I circle a few times to land a spot in front of Taylor's Books where I've been seduced by the clearance book section and have loaded up on cooking tomes.

But before that, I was enjoying lunch at the Bluegrass Kitchen. One of those progressive, locally sourced kind of places with the church pews, sort of remnant furniture and tasty grub. Fresh greens for a nice salad and house cured pastrami with a spicy dressing made for a very good reuben.


Peanut Butter Brownie and Coconut ice cream from Ellen's Homemade Ice Cream.

Like most places, Charleston is national food chain Hell. Turn in any direction and you'll find the typical chain places. The big news in food here? Panera Bread recently opened at the Towne Center Mall. Brilliant. Not. And like most places, you have to seek out the different and the tasty. And I'm hoping to seek some of that out while here this weekend.

Next stop: Ellen's Homemade Ice Cream. Initially, I was thinking that I might jump in the car and charge up to Columbus to find out what the hype surrounding Jeni's Ice Cream is all about. Only to find out from google maps that it's a three-hour drive. Forget Jeni, Hello Ellen.


A nice cigar at The Squire.

Capitol Street seems to be the right place today. Across from Taylor Books is Ellen's, a quaint ice cream joint that makes everything in-house. She's got a standard selection of ice creams, as well as light fare and a coffee menu. I'm here strictly for the ice cream and order coconut with the day's special PB Brownie.

The Peanut Butter Brownie is just right. Creamy peanut butter and frozen bits of brownie. Very nice. The coconut has shaved pieces mixed in and is light and creamy. Not quite the coconut at Les Halles but pretty good. For some reason, I ordered the large ice cream, ate it all and felt a bit ill afterwards. In reality, I probably should have ordered a milkshake. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.


The Planters brand Royal peanut roaster at The Peanut Shoppe.

While Taylor's and Ellen's offer coffee and espresso drinks and the venerable Capital Roasting is just around the corner, I decide against buying coffee. It's not that I'm some sort of coffee snob (okay, well, maybe) but I'm just scared of drinking bad coffee and the tell tale signs tell me to avoid.

Next stop is The Squire, the local tobacconist who's been here since 1993 and boasts the largest humidor in Charleston and perhaps West Virginia. They've got a nice selection and offer a number of cigars that I like and others that I have not seen before. I chose an Alec Bradley SCR lancero that's got some spice and good flavor but the roll is off, the center is soft and goes out continuously during the last half.

Earlier I had spotted The Peanut Shoppe as I was walking by paying my meter. By the way, if you do visit Charleston, be sure to pay your meter on time. The meter maid patrols every 15 minutes and is only too eager to write you a ticket. Someone's gotta pay for the deficit and they want it to be you.

What had caught my eye about The Peanut Shoppe was the 25 pound Planters brand peanut drum roaster in the store. It looks like and probably is an old Royal roaster and they still use it to roast their nuts. Average roast time: 30 minutes though when the crop gets old, say around August/September, the moisture has decreased and the roast time is quicker. All kinds of salted nuts, candies, popcorn and more from this decidedly old school peanut shop. Even the bags have that Old School look.

From there, it's a swing through the Towne Center Mall that looks straight out of the 1980s and reminds me of the old Hunt Valley Mall. There's a Taco Bell and I think about grabbing a crunchy ground mystery beef taco. That or the soft serve ice cream with crispy chocolate shell at the Dairy Queen.

Tatuaje L'esprit de La Verite 2008

Totalmente a mano en Esteli.

While in Esteli touring the cigar factory with Pete Johnson, I spied a box for the Verite 2009 line of cigars. He told me about his approach to using tobacco leaf from one farm and one harvest to create a vintage line in the manner of wine production. I didn't really understand exactly what he was talking about but it sounded interesting.

Fast forward to this week and I'm browsing the internet and came across some reviews of the 2008 which spoke very highly of the cigar, my interest was piqued. Hopped onto Holts.com and ordered a box yesterday. It arrived today.


Details, details, details.

The packaging is very smartly done and conveys the sense of something special. The bands are a little on the simple side but the ten cigar bundle smells and portends of something good to come.

Right from the start, the 2008 hits you full on with spicy notes. It blooms with spice and keeps on coming. It takes a few moments before the body starts to develop but once is blossoms, it's on.


The missing stick.

From there the cigar keeps growing. Continuously increasing spice notes and body maintains smoothness and flavor until it plateaus at a wonderful high and holds.

There's been a bit of chatter on the twitterverse about the 2008 splitting. Pete has responded that the 2008 needs 63% humidity to avoid the splitting. About two inches into the smoke, my wrapper started to split slightly. It could be an adverse affect on the cigar's humidity due to transportation but I'm thinking that it has more to do with the speed of smoke.

With a cigar this good, I sometimes have the tendency to smoke it on the fast side. Slight uneven burn and the splitting leads me to believe that these errors were due to my own rate of smoking than anything else.


Starting out.

Some cigars deliver and intense beginning only to develop into harsh bitter notes and sometimes offense aromas of ammonia - not the ideal way to end your enjoyment. The 2008 does none of that. It continues smoothly and evenly all the way through, until you're burning your fingertips and lips because you're smoking it all the way down.

Espresso Tatuaje

The espresso machine at Tatuaje HQ, Hollywood.

After a morning in the valley visiting old haunts Location Sound and Birns & Sawyer (where I've spent way too much money on production equipment), I've found my way to Hollywood for a visit with Pete and Andy at Tatuaje Cigars.

It's interesting to come full circle with Tatuaje. I first tried Tatuaje through The Porn King and Marvin during a holiday in Honolulu back in 2004. That Rare Cojonu 2003 was an immense treat and I've always had a fondness for Tatuaje ever since.

Then after visiting with Pete in Esteli a couple of weeks ago, having a smoke in Bethesda, now I find myself in the back room of Tatuaje trying to explain the finer points of espresso making to Andy in a compressed 40 minute session. There's nothing quite like trying to jam years of experience into a short period of time, but it's all good.

With a bag of espresso from Four Barrel in tow we make good progress and I think I've helped Andy ante up the quality of espresso at HQ. From there it's time to sit with the boys in the lounge and enjoy a Tatuaje Reserva until it's time to go home.

LNMC #1-11

Control numbers.

While visiting Plasencia Cigars in Esteli, Mike asked gave me this prototype cigar and asked me to give it a try and my feedback on it. So, with a few hours to myself today, I took the opportunity to give it a try. Here's part of my feedback:

" Medium bodied with a nice spice without being peppery. It's the kind of cigar that I can really get into. A great daily smoke without being too heavy."



You ever seen this label?

With any luck, this cigar will make it to market someday and I'll be waiting to buy a box for myself


Ready to smoke.

Plasencia

Welcome to Plasencia Cigars.

First, My Father's Cigar. Next? Plasencia. Long a staple and fixture of Nicaraguan tobacco, Nestor Plasencia is a veritable legend in the cigar business. Way before most of the people came to Esteli, it was Plasencia and the Padron Family leading and doing their thing here.

To be honest, even though I've got a wooden Plasencia ring gauge identifier hanging on the wall of my humidor, I hadn't seen nor smoked a Plasencia cigar in many years. Yet, even though I haven't smoked a Plasencia, with 80 brands under their care, I've undoubtedly smoked something made within these hallowed walls.


Tracking the fermentation bundles.

And hallowed they are. While My Father's Cigar is modern, massive and relatively simple, the Plasencia factory is steeped in tradition. The Spanish colonial architecture is gorgeous. Large, thick wooden entry doors, tiled floors, stucco walls, tile roof and a large water fountain in the center courtyard remind you of the hacienda era with images of large fields of tobacco, white guyaberas and stylish Montecristo straw Panama hats. It is how I would like to live.

The rollers here at Plasencia can roll between 30,000 to 35,000 cigars per day, as we tour the factory, I'm offered a pre-release 5 Vegas churchill cigar. How could I say no? The churchill is large, tasty and robust.


Rotating the bundles.

We're here because Claudio The Rancher is childhood friends with Nestor's son, Nestor Plasencia, Jr. We see the fermentation rooms, the rotation and the company cafeteria. At the cafeteria I'm curious to sample what real cigar rollers eat but they're only open for lunch and it's way past lunch.

The aging room is massive and we spy a set of maduro cigars being finished aged for release. Amongst the 50 cigar bundles wrapped in paper, my cigar is pulled from the 200 count aging boxes. I fantasize about having these very 200 count boxes in my humidor back home and how happy I would be.


Stripping out the center stem.

In the rolling room, things are moving at a brisk pace as the end of the day is nearing. Rollers roll and their cigars are inspected, approved and noted on their chits for payment. Each cigar is also tested in a draw machine which ensures that each cigar allows the proper amount of air through and eliminates plugged cigars. Impressive, considering that they make thirty thousand cigars daily.

There's a hierarchy to the rollers room. The best and most senior rollers are towards the front where they roll the larger and complex shapes, like figurados. But one roller catches our attention. He's rolling a camouflage cigar taking bits of colorado, maduro and claro wrappers and pasting them together to create a literal camouflage wrapper. Like any good C.I.A. op, no one seems to know who these cigars are being made for - not the foreman, not the inspector, not even the roller himself. Rumors abound that it's a prototype for the military but reliable information seems difficult to source. Disinformation seems to be the best weapon for this cigar.


The Aging Room.

We end up in the box room. Boxes here are made elsewhere and then filled in this room. Women work diligently affixing the bands to the cigars and then lining boxes with the finished cigars and preparing them for shipment to their customers. I manage to buy a small box of Plasencia torpedos to take home with me.

As we wait in the courtyard by the fountain, someone mentions that Mike Copperman from Bethesda is also in the house tasting cigars and would I like to see him. I find Mike in their formal tasting room sampling a variety of cigars for intended purposes unknown. You know it's a Small World when you find someone from back home not only in the same country or city but in the same cigar factory.

It is a Small World. Afterall...


Maduro cigars aging.



200 count aging boxes.



Bundles of 5 Vegas cigars waiting for release.



Pressing the filler and binder.



Assembling filler and binder.



The forms for getting paid.



Testing the draw of each cigar.



Camouflage cigars - client undisclosed.



Assembling the tobacco bits for the camouflage wrapper. Amazing.



Rolled torpedo cigars - my favorite.



Pulling the pressed torpedos for the wrapper.



Finishing the torpedo tip.



Inspecting for quality.



The inspiration behind the perfect label positioning.



Ana offers a token of appreciation.



Bundles of banded cigars awaiting boxing.



Essentially the cigar cupping and blending room.

My Father's Tatuaje

My Father's Cigar - like cigar mecca.

My first exposure to a Tatuaje cigar was back in 2004 during a trip to Hawaii and staying at The Porn King's house overlooking Honolulu. The Porn King was excited about a new cigar called the Rare Cojonu 2003. A stellar cigar, packed with flavor, spice and a nice punch. A breakthrough cigar made by relative unknown Pepin Garcia for Pete Johnson's six accounts.

Since that time, both Tatuaje and Pepin Garcia's My Father's Cigars have grown seemingly exponentially. The opening of the new factory in Esteli was heralded as the Second Coming in cigar circles and can readily be considered the "must see" factory of any cigar trip anywhere.


The Main Rolling Room.

I had originally tried contacting Pete through modern channels like Twitter but realistically, how many cigar crazies try to contact him that way. As luck would have it, during my 36 hour stop back home in Baltimore after El Salvador, The Marvin was in town from Hawaii for just one evening and wanted to know if I had time to hang out, and over dinner and cigars, we got in touch with Pete who was also going to be in Esteli at the same time.

Located just north of downtown Esteli, along the Autopista Panamericana (500 meters north of the Texaco, to be precise), My Father's Cigars rises as a grand complex on the right side of the roadway. It's cream colored buildings dominate and curious onlookers are discouraged by the armed guards at the front gate. Luckily, we're expected and with a mention of "Senor Johnson" we are whisked into the compound and directed to the main building where we're greeted by reception and the famous Pete Johnson.


Assembling the Tatuaje Filler and Binder.

After a quick meet and greet with Pepin's children, Janny and Jaime, Pete takes us to the main rolling room where the rollers can roll upwards of 35,000 cigars per day. Divide that by about 200 cigars per day and there's at least 175 rollers doing their thing.

The first thing I notice in the rolling room is something I'm not used to in the United States. Lingering in the air is a slight acridity that I can't readily identify. Then it hits me: these people are smoking cigars!


Men assemble, women roll.

Unlike The Land of the Free, smoking a cigar is encouraged here in the factory. Anyone and everyone can smoke a cigar in the building, and many of them do. In a demonstration of the Great Irony of Modern Day America, I'm reminded once again that the "freedoms" our soldiers are defending in the Middle East are actually only possible outside the United States.

Part of today's production are Tatuaje cigars for Pete. He's here on a regular basis to see how things are coming along and to play around with new ideas for cigar blends, as well as a continuing battle with a printer in the Dominican Republic and his graphic designer in Los Angeles. At one point, Pete laments the fact that he's left his laptop back home and must conduct business solely with his iPhone4. I feel his pain.


Rolled cigars ready for inspection.

Our tour of the factory goes in a "backwards" direction where we see the process in reverse, starting with the rolling room and them moving into the issue room where bundles of tobacco are issued to the rollers. Each roller receives a bundle of tobacco based on the size and recipe for that particular cigar. They're expected to produced the expected amount of cigars from that bundle and are paid based on the number of proper cigars they roll each day. Rejects are not counted so rolling correctly is a must and in their favor.

Pete's got an idea on his mind and tells the shop foreman the blend who promptly grabs a few bunches of tobacco, roughly rolls it together and then lights it up for a few puffs to check the flavor. Between Pete, the foreman and a lady who can only be called the Madrina or Godmother of tobacco, they taste the blend and ponder the possibilities.


Claudio checks out the technique.

In the next room, women grade and sort stacks of tobacco for the issue room. From there it's box assembly and filling. Here women assemble paper boxes from printers in Holland and wood from the shop out back. Surprisingly, assembling paper boxes is more labor intensive and costly than wood boxes and I wonder about the profitability of the boxes for the cigar companies.

Next to the box room is the main humidor where the cigars are stored and aged before shipping. Even in here I'm encouraged to smoke my cigar: a pre-release, fresh from the rolling floor, Tatuaje Fausto T171. It's based on The Marvin's custom for Hawaii T110 cigar that Pete made for Marvin a couple of years ago (and a favorite of the Cigar Underground) and I'm smoking one. It's got good flavor, some spice and a good body. I'm enjoying it and secretly hoping that Pete might decide that I should take a box home for more consideration and pondering...


Ana in the rolling room.

From there we depart the main building and head to the tobacco buildings. Here, the magic happens. These are rooms where the raw tobacco is fermented, aged and processed into the leaves that will make some of the great modern cigars. There's more sorting going on in one room and then we come to the fermentation room where bundles of tobacco are fermented and rotated in continuing stacks until they reach the perfect point of "doneness."

Fermentation produces heat and the bundles of tobacco are surprisingly warm to the touch. Fans and water sprayers, as well as constant rotation, keep the fermenting tobacco bundles at the desired temperature (and rate of fermentation) and prevent spontaneous combustion and catastrophe.


The Tatuaje Fausto F171 - not even on the market.

Pete tells us that the fermentation process has advanced so much over the years that they can take a bundle of tobacco and have them ready for rolling in about 18 months.

We move to the bundling area where fermented and dried tobacco bundles are placed in massive wrapped bundles and stored on pallet racks for future use. It is rumored that it were bundles just like this that were discovered in 1994 after eighteen years of storage that were used in the 1995 Partagas 150th Anniversary Cigar. Perhaps in another fifteen years, a secreted away bundle here will be found for another benchmark cigar for another generation of cigar smokers.


6 3/4" x 48 of pure goodness and The Pete Johnson.

Off of the bundle room are the rooms where the leaves are allowed to "degas". Open the door, step in and you're hit immediately with the toxic aroma of ammonia. It's so thick you think you're going to pass out. I'm not talking about just the aroma of ammonia or the hint of ammonia, this is like being dropped off in the middle of an ammonia plant during a meltdown. It's so noxious, I can barely breathe, my eyes are watering and I'm starting to wonder if I might pass out and die.

Escaping the room, I wonder just how any of these people are able to work in that environment.


Very nice.

To the back of the compound is the box plant. Here, wood boxes are custom made by hand. They're cut from aged Spanish Cedar planks and made into simple, raw wood boxes to screened and lacquered boxes. Today they're in the midst of making the Fausto boxes for Pete and I'm fascinated to see the process from raw wood to painted, screened and lacquered.

Off to the side are the buses that ferry the workers to and from Esteli as well as the company cafeteria where full meals are provided to every employee for a modest fee. The factory workers here are some of the highest paid and well treated in Nicaragua, meaning that there's a constant stream of applicants desiring the better lifestyle promised by employment at My Father's Cigars.


This Lady is like the God Mother of tobacco.

Back at the main building we enjoy Cuban coffees while finishing my cigar. Pete's still in the middle of dealing with his graphic design/printer crises, as well as expecting other luminaries visiting Esteli for a tour. We thank him for his time and make our departure from cigar's mecca.

I depart without the hoped-for box of Fausto cigars, but Ana knowingly gives me her T171 to enjoy later. It's a good day.


New arrivals.



Grading leaves.



Assembling boxes for La Aroma de Cuba.



The environmentally controlled aging room.



Showing us the fermentation bundles.



Connecticut Wrapper.



Making boxes for the Tatuaje Fausto.



Vintage 2009.



Screen printing the Fausto boxes.



Post tour service.



A Cuban Coffee at My Father's Cigars.