Once in a while when I'm on vacation I'll wake up on a sunny morning and say to myself, do I really want to sit for two hours and endure the demanding luxury of a rich, full bodied, flavorful cigar? And on that certain morning I'll say, heck no, I just want the cheapest no-name house brand can find, and bet myself 10 bucks it's going to taste like a mouthful of cornstarch.
On this particular morning, the cheapest-looking cigar in my humidor was a skinny lonsdale with a plain red band that said simply "cigar.com", the maduro house blend by the distributor of the same name. If this wasn't going to be the most laughable joke of a cigar I ever smoked, I didn't know what would. I bet myself 20 dollars that I would hate it, just for good measure.
I lost the bet. This inconspicuous lonsdale was actually a serviceable smoke, much like the Las Cabrillas I'd schlepped out the day before. Two decent cheap cigars in a row, both in the morning, which might have had something to do with it. If you're going to smoke a cheap, mild cigar, morning is the time to do it, before you're awake enough to realize what you're missing.
By "serviceable" smoke I don't mean good, mind you. I mean the cigar.com cheapie burned well, produced a satisfying volume of cool smoke, and didn't taste like sandpaper wrapped in tinfoil. No, this sinewy workhorse had a papery, chalky, slightly peppery flavor that ranked higher in my book than some of the expensive brand names that people smoke to look good - wretched Connecticut-wrapped fatsos of the Cohiba, Excaliber, and Macanudo ilk.
The cigar.com red label gave me a slight kick in the ass, along with the cup of coffee I kept filling and refilling. And it didn't cost me a fortune.
Am I going to run out and buy a bundle of them today? No. Will I ever smoke another one? Probably not. But if you stuck one in my mouth, lit it, and said, "here, smoke this cigar," I wouldn't turn you down.
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