A Note on Cubans

Update November 2010: My acquaintance Hank reported that in addition to the island sticks reported below, he recently smoked 3 Cuban Romeo and Julietta coronas, donated to him by a friend in Canada. Again, Hank was underwhelmed. Apparently the Cubans don't know how to roll a decent corona (packed too tight, hard to draw) and they don't much go for strength (appeared to be habano wrapped, but tasted like papery Connecticut shade). If Hank is to be trusted, stay away from narrow-ringed Cubans...

*****

If I were ever to smoke a Cuban cigar- and I wouldn't, because it's illegal in this great country where I reside - I certainly wouldn't write a review about it and risk exposing myself as an unpatriotic, embargo-busting commie pinko rat, which I certainly am not because I enjoy having money and possessions as much as the next guy.

But I recently was talking to a guy named Hank - I don't even know his last name, much less where he lives or what he does for a living - who was telling me that he had the opportunity to sample 3 Cuban cigars while on a trip outside the good ole USA. Here's what Hank, on the condition of total anonymity, told me about his Cuban cigar experience.

First of all, Hank made it a point of saying how excited he had been about the opportunity to try Cuban cigars, having been driven practically into an inferiority complex by his geographic restriction to smoking only lowly Dominican, Nicaraguan, Honduran and, God forbid, Miami cigars rolled by some clown named Pepin.

Hanks' first shot at Cuban cigars was the much-ballyhooed Cohiba Sublime, a rough-looking, light-brown toro that smelled of subtle barnyard - the telltale sign of a good cigar, Hank had once read. Upon lighting, Hank found the Cuban Cohiba to be rather mild but uniquely honeyish and hayish in flavor, unlike the boring papery profile of Dominican Cohiba naturals. The Sublime had a nice, easy draw, much like a Padron, and was pleasant if not particularly mind-blowing. It had, felt Hank, just a touch of exoticism, a subtle sweetness which he had never encountered in any continental cigar. However, the experience was not enough to make him rend his clothing and bemoan the fact that he hadn't been smoking Cubans his whole life.

Hank took advantage of yet two more occasions during his international travels to smoke Cuban cigars, this time smaller corona sizes that nonetheless cost him a small fortune. Legality, in foreign lands, apparently doesn't confer affordability any more than buying Cubans on the black market might. Hank was rather disappointed to find that the Cuban Romeo #2 and the Cuban Fonseca corona, both dark-shaded cigars, were tightly wrapped, and not particularly awesome in flavor. They might have been Nicaraguans, for all he could tell. In short, he felt he was missing absolutely nothing by being denied Cuban brands back in his red, white and blue homeland.

Unfortunately, 3 cigars was the extent of Hank's Cuban experimentation. Hank is happy to report that, based on this admittedly limited sampling, he no longer has an inferiority complex about smoking Central American cigars. In fact, he feels pride. From Rocky Patel to La Flor Dominicana and all points in between, we American infidels are doing just fine, he assures me. In fact Hank would venture to say that we may be even be kicking Cuban ass when it comes to smoking fine cigars at reasonable prices.

Unfortunately, I can only take Hank's word for this. Someday I can only hope I'll have the chance to try a few Cubans on my own -- after the embargo is lifted and our two countries have mended their troubled past.