Thursday, December 29, 2011

Tips to Spot a Fake Cuban Cigar


With a little ambition, I’d buy me little cabana in Ixtapa, Mexico overlooking the Pacific Ocean & amass a small fortune selling $2 Mexican made cigars as Cuban Cohibas for $40 a piece to unsuspecting tourists. All I would need is an above par poker face & a sub-par conscience...but alas, I have neither. Apparently, I’m in the minority.

Nothing is more appealing to the over zealous vacationer than the lifted skirt & perfumed inner thigh of the elusive Cuban cigar. Americans’ fascination with this forbidden fruit in conjunction with the cigar boom over the last 2 decades has made it a feeding frenzy for counterfeit cigar retailers south of the border. With that backdrop, we decided to put together a simple educational game of “spot the differences” so you can have a leg up on those with a questionable conscience.

Since Cohibas are the most counterfeited cigars on the market, I thought I’d do a comparison on that brand. Cohibas are also the most expensive cigars on the market, making them the most financially appealing to counterfeit. Fortunately, for a savvy consumer, they are the one of the hardest to duplicate. Here are the top 10 ways to easily spot the fake.



 1. First off, look at the color. The fake has much paler colors, especially the yellow.

2. The gold foiling is usually a dead giveaway. Notice how the horizontal bar in the “H” on the fake is inconsistent in size. As where the parts on the “H” on the real one are all completely equal.

3.  The gold borders above and below COHIBA are very fine on the real one. Not so much on the fake.

4.  The white boxes are probably the hardest to duplicate. Not only are the fakes uneven and not symmetrical, & there is 1 less row.

5.  The “Habana, Cuba” font is usually always finer on the fake. That’s usually hard to differentiate without having a real one to compare it to. But look where the comma is on the fake. It’s almost an apostrophe!

6.  The real Cohiba band ends its band almost seamlessly on the back. Notice how the band ends on the back of the fake. You can also see the under lapping band sticking up above the overlapping one on the fake.

7.  If you get a chance, feel how tight band fits around the cigar. The real ones are very tight and won’t slide up and down the cigar. The fake ones will.

8.  Apparently good glue is hard to find. It’s almost impossible to unwrap a real Cohiba cigar band without defacing some, if not most of it. Fake ones come off very easily.

9.  No Cohibas come in glass top boxes. I don’t care how many stickers, holograms, stamps or markings are on it. If the box has a glass top, it’s triple fake.

10. Do your homework. I know nothing about watches, but if someone is selling me a new Rolex for $500, it’s a red flag. If you’re buying any Cuban cigar that retails for $25 for $10, it’s a fake.
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Saturday, December 3, 2011

The Land of unEnchantment

The Cuban cigar. There are fewer wore out topics that we hear about than the Cubans. Here is Mark's take on the much-discussed topic.

Written by Mark Moore
The Land of unEnchantment

I have a buddy who grew up in San Diego. Up until about a year ago, he would come up to En Fuego & tell us enchanted stories of this magical place found only in the the most remote of places; the southwestern corner of the United States of America. We would all gather around the fire to hear his stories. We were all like parents peering through the pane of glass at their recently delivered new born child, eyes wide, mouths gaped open and hanging on his every word. 
The only way to get to this magical place from the west was by vessel. But the ocean, with her sea monsters, cavernous waves and gold thirsty pirates brought about treachery. Her depths served only as a burial ground to most who traversed her. Easterners found it no less daunting. There were scorching desserts where the sun poured its wrath down on its guests like molten lava over helpless greenbelts. Then there were mountains that almost touched the heavens that had to be crossed. Dark, dense forests that swallowed up its victims like the the abyss of a moonless night.
It was a high stakes, high reward endeavor. Very few pioneers reached this enchanted place. But the few that did were rewarded with all its splendor and glory. This sacred, dare I say, holy place made its visitors feel empowered and free. There was no place like it in the world. Everyone felt like a kid and no one left empty or disappointed. It was Heaven, the North Pole and Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, all rolled into one. 
Owning a cigar shop or over 5 years, I hear a lot of chatter about Cuban cigars. Admittedly, I went through a pretty extensive and expensive Cuban cigar phase. I tried them all.  Cohiba, Montecristo, Upmann, SLR, Romeo y Julieta, to name a few. I smoked strong, mild and everything in between. I paid $3 for some and $60 for others. Cuban cigars were my “enchanted place”. A lot of my buddies were jealous of my affairs with Lady Cuba. I could talk the talk with the best of them. I noticed a change slowly taking effect. I started to feel like I was defending Cubans rather than praising them. I felt like I would disappoint my buddies if I didn’t keep up the mystique. The more I smoked, the more I defended and the more I started coming to the self realization that Cuban cigars were just flat out over-rated. 
That’s right, crucify me. I said it. Cubans are over rated. I could go into detail about how all Cuba’s good rollers are defecting to the states. Or how Nicaraguan tobacco is so much tastier. Or how cigars rolled in the Dominican are so much better constructed, but I won’t. You wouldn't believe me. Your eyes will start glazing over and your mind will set adrift to your fantasy football lineup for this weekend. Why? Because you still want to believe in the “enchanted place”. I don’t blame you. We all desperately want the mystique to live up to the hype. It somehow gives us hope, as futile as it may be. 
As for the North-Heaven-Chocolate Factory my San Diego buddy always kept us in awe about....I finally experienced it. In-N-Out Burger finally came to Texas and I thought it sucked. I didn’t feel young and magical. I felt fat and gassy. The caloric intake alone made me feel like I did after the Halloween of ’84, when I ate my entire Hefty trash bag full of candy in one sitting preventing my thieving siblings getting to it. Like a 4 am Target door buster special on Black Friday, I stood in line way too long only to realize I was one of many who had been duped by the over-hype of a reality that never quite reached it’s reputation.
Take it from me. I’ve been to the communist “land of enchantment” and back. Do yourself a favor and pick up a Padron 1926 or a Fuente Anejo instead. The journey is a lot less dramatic and they promise not to leave your bowels in a state of apocalyptic carnage. 

Agree? Disagree? As always, we love to hear your opinions.