The Incremental Perfection of the Ashton VSG

In July I finally took the plunge - using the wedding of a friend as an excuse - and plopped down 24 bucks for a couple of Ashton Virgin Sun Grown Tres Mystiques ("Tres Mystique" being Ashton’s high-falutin way of saying “teeny little corona”). One VSG for me, and one for the groom.

For everyone else I brought a mix of brands, none of which cost me 12 bucks. Turns out I overplanned, because out of a crowd of 100 celebrants, there were only four cigar smokers, including me and my wife. One guy took an Olor robusto (a house brand at Famous) and the other guy took a Partagas of some sort, both choices which pained me because they were the only samples that I had (mental note: bring only duplicate cigars that you are willing to part with).

We all went behind a hedgerow and smoked in the sweltering summer night, music blaring in the reception area behind us. The crowd on the other side of the hedgerow was for the most part a churchgoing, clean-living folk, and we didn’t want to offend them by bellowing smoke into their festivities.

The groom was nowhere to be seen, so I tucked the two Ashtons away and lit up a Crème de Jamaica robusto. Short little stick, but generous in flavor. Touch of sweetness and, dare I say, trace of rum or coconut – or was it just the brand name influencing my tastebuds? Won’t know for sure until I try another one. The Jamaican burned cool and sweet until about the last third, and I put it out. Still, good value for the money.

The groom eventually appeared and I helped him light the Ashton. “Don’t be fooled by the small size,” I told him. "This is one of best cigars on the market.” He nodded pleasantly, took a few puffs, and strolled back into the party with his cigar, clean-living folk be damned. He was the groom, after all, and could do what he pleased.

A few minutes later I asked him how it tasted. “Excellent,” he said, no more description forthcoming. It was his wedding night, after all. The last thing he wanted to do was stand around analyzing the quality of a cigar.

Three hours and much sweating, dancing and beer-drinking later, I was back home and couldn’t wait any longer: I just had to try that other Tres Mystique.

I hoped that having smoked a cigar earlier in the evening wouldn’t spoil it. It didn't.

And what was my impression of this fabled brand? Good. Excellent, in fact. A great 45-minute smoke that looked beautiful, burned perfectly, drew inimitably and tasted fine. The flavor was strong but varied, with no particular dominating overtone, just nice rich, cool heartiness on the dusky, peaty side. Full of nuance and subtlety, but so skillfully blended, it seemed perfect.

Almost too perfect, in fact. Like the time I took my kids to a pro basketball game and was astounded by the grace, speed and fluidity of the players and the way the interacted with each other. It almost looked choreographed. Yet within 15 minutes, the game had taken on a repetitive slickness. These guys were so good that they hardly ever made a mistake, and when they did it was barely noticeable – a squeak of a tennis shoe, a momentary loss of balance, a missed basket that was either tipped in or grabbed without ado by the opposing player for the dance to continue on the other end of the court.

What I’m trying to say in my long-winded way is that the Ashton VSG is so perfect, you have to think hard about what you’re experiencing. There’s no quirk or jolt or uncanny nuance to get your attention. It's an incremental sort of perfection. All you can do is sit there and think: I am smoking a perfect cigar, not much bigger than my thumb, that cost me 12 dollars.

Truth is, I've had 4 dollar smokes that were almost, ALMOST as good. Bottom line: If you’re loaded with dough and you want every single cigar to unfailingly look, draw, taste, and burn great without ever straying the least bit off course, this baby is for you.

But if you’re willing to tolerate the occasional irregularity, there are plenty of other cigars that will get you damned close to the Ashton VSG for a much lower price. Like, for example, a Carlos Torano 1916 Cameroon corona, or even a lowly Padron 6000.

If I was loaded and could afford a perfect cigar every time, I’d stock up on Ashton VSGs. But I’m not, so I won't. And I'm guessing that after the first three or four of them, I wouldn't even notice the perfection anyway, like that choreographed basketball game.