Big Johnny

I believe I remember Mike writing that this immense cigar was another one by the Leaf by Oscar people.

Immense: 8″ X 64. That’s an inch in diameter folks. It is without question the largest cigar I have smoked to date but might also be the largest cigar I have ever seen. Huge.

As usual, the photo doesn’t do this beauty justice.

Cigar #15
Big Johnny

The cigar was great front start to finish. The only tiny argument I had with this stick was the band. And I don’t much care for the name. Neither do justice to how great a smoke this was.

Before I forget I want to mention its most noteworthy and surprising flavor characteristic. Candy. No shit.

Somewhere about an hour and half in I hit this very short spot where I tasted candy. Not sweetness as in sugar but more complex as in the flavors exhibited by some long forgotten childhood hard candy.

Never (ever) did I think that flavor was even remotely possible coming from a cigar. It’s just too much of a stretch but still it was there just the same.

For a cigar its size it was an absolute work of perfection. It was beautiful to look at although I must say that a figurado looks better held in the hand.

The damn thing lasted over two hours. Maybe two and a half hours. Who knows? I was half drunk by then.

I like to confine my Happy Hours to an hour or sometimes an hour and a half. If not I drink too much. At 61 I have finally figured out my limits. But cigars require booze. And great cigars require great booze. And a huge cigar requires well…lots of booze.

That’s why I saved the couple of big boys that Mike sent for the very last. Because I knew they would disturb the equilibrium of the rest of my evening.

Fine, rich tobacco that burns evenly, producing a splendid gray white ash; loaded with lots of great flavor was worth the price of the small hangover I’ve carried all day.

What can I say? I love cigars, booze, good food, books, leather, knives, guns, and women. It just occurred to me that from 1521 AD onward – after the Spanish discovered tobacco –  I would have felt right at home anywhere. There wasn’t much to read back then but there certainly was plenty of all the rest.

Just imagine how rich Mexico was back in 1521.

Imagine later when there was rum to drink. When cigars were finally plentiful. And you could carry guns and knives with impunity. And women were only a brothel away. (Yes, I did said that. As Charlie Sheen once famously quipped, “Pay for sex? I don’t pay for sex. I pay for them to go home.”)

A time way before automobiles when there were only horses, wooden ships, steel, leather and the honest sweat of a hard day’s labor.

I am now convinced I was born several centuries too late. I missed my era which was quite possibly the 18th century.

Ahh, but still I am in Mexico. Weep you less fortunate men. This land is still rich and the air is as gentle as a baby’s kiss.

A cigar on the rooftop. Booze and a book. There’s no better life anywhere.

And I am thankful for it every single day.

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