DuckDrams

I have never in my life smoked a cigarette. Nor do I ever indent do. But, every once in a long while I enjoy the experience of a cigar. Some 10 years ago, my dear childhood friend Filip went to Cuba. He and his father brought back 200 cigars in a humidor. Ever since, he’s been quite the avid cigar man. Although, I think they are both more into pipes these days.

Filip throws unforgettable Swedish Midsummer parties. This is when I first tried a cigar. I’ve only ever smoked cigars with Filip, except once when I got one to share with my father and aunt while my mum was disapprovingly sulking indoors. The first Midsummer cigar was an eye opener, but also a stomach opener when the nicotine and alcohol got the better of me. With time I’ve learned to smoke a bit less when I do, and now I’m past the age of allowing myself to drink more alcohol than I can stomach (I hope). Having a (part of a) cigar or a small pipe outdoors with Filip in the cold of winter or on Midsummer is a joy and a tradition.

Tobacco notes are common in well-aged, sherried whiskies, and reminding myself of the true taste of tobacco every once in a while I think is important to get the most out of tasting such whiskies. At the recent Bad Homburg whisky tasting there was a guy rolling and selling cigars. So I got one (€10) and a piece of a tobacco leaf as an additional souvenir.

Back home I got the idea of infusing a whisky with tobacco leaf as an experiment. I filled 3cl sample bottle with a thumb-sized piece of leaf and some Campbeltown Loch blended malt whisky and let it sit for about two weeks.

The infused whisky is has a more amber colour than the unadulaturated dram. The reference has a slightly farmy, cheesy, sweet and caramelly flavour, with some marzipan and oranges (I reviewed it more carefully half a year ago). The tobacco steeped dram has something additional on the nose, like musky perfume, tobacco (unsurprisingly), and less orange zestiness. The flavour is really herbal and tobacco-y, but actually not bad or overwhelming. Rather interesting, really. But quickly there is a spiciness that claws at my throat, just like when I’ve had too many a huff on a cigar…

Now, this puts me in the mood for a smoke! I had bought the cigar with the idea of sharing it at a three-day work retreat to Schloss Noer by the German Baltic Sea coast. But no one showed interest. At least I managed to get a few colleagues to sip some Arran 10, mostly with enjoyment it seemed. I did not want to stand alone smoking my cigar like a fool, so I saved it. The cigar man told it it should keep well for at least a week. Now it’s been three and I think it’s time I had it before I loose the chance of a good experience. To be frank, I have no knowledge of cigars; I can’t say much about the providence of this cigar, except that the guy rolling this Cuna cigar is called Juan Carlos Mila Menendez.

I carefully cut the tip with a knife, which seemed to work well. I have a lighter in my kit of hiking accessories. Actually, I had found it many years ago in the grass out in the Highlands while I was pitching tent. The last of its fuel went to light this cigar.

The cigar was great. Fruity, chocolatey, quite mellow. Not harsh or spicy. The sweetness of the malt was a good complement; I paired it with the Campbeltown Loch, but also tried some port cask Dalmunach with it. I stopped at about half a cigar, after which I was feeling a little dizzy. But now an hour later I feel fine.

I’m happy I did not let the cigar go to waste. But I won’t make a habit of smoking on my own. Sitting outdoors, enjoying it slowly, with good company and conversation, on a special occasion, is the way to go for me.