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