We all like to think we know a heck of a lot more than what we really do. In fact, what do we truly know regarding our particular professions? A friend posted quite the interesting and controversial statement a while back and although I’m writing this by memory only, you’ll appreciate this fact later on. He said something to the effect of: “Is relaying what you already know enough? Who does that benefit? Instead, reach further, go beyond what you do know and talk about what you don’t and how it relates to who you are and who you will be.” Heady stuff.

So I thought I’d put the above statement into practice. I’ve been chatting with a cigar friend Ron Barker, owner of Cigar Volante, and he graciously sent me his Panacea collection of cigars. Full disclosure here: I do know a little something about wine and a bit less about cigars.

It’s good you’re here, but keep the hell quiet.

I can picture my father right now, left leg propped over the left arm of the 70’s-inspired black leather and wood cocktail chair–the kind of furniture you’re so happy to have for the comfort yet so damned embarrassed due to its overuse. Cigar smoke curling around his thinning hair, he blows circles with it, knowing I’m watching from around the door.

If there was a gathering at the house, which was a likely affair, then there were cigars. I don’t remember which kinds, but I associate that time in my life with laughter, relaxation and happiness. So when I light up it’s time to slow, sit down and free my mind to wander. My mother recently gifted me with the crystal glass ashtray he always used which she had purchased for him on a past anniversary. If it’s out, I’m lighting.

So that conversation with Ron, coupled with the above statement of going beyond our comfort zones, spurred me to combine what I do know about wine with the little bit I know about cigars.

I See You

By looking at a cigar we have an idea of what it might taste like much like wine. Lighter and thinner cigars, more lighter textured wines; broader, darker-leafed cigars—more robust. Cigars and wines have much in common:  their raw components each grow best in the right soils, aging softens, mellows and enhances but mostly each is unique and offers endless possibilities.

Much like wine, cigars taste differently throughout the course of its burn, meaning the amount of time it takes to smoke. I suggest that if you’re imbibing together, smoke your cigar a little first, say 10 minutes, just to get into it. I found that the initial draws or amount of air taken in can begin hot so give your cigar a moment to settle in.  Similar to wine, after the initial pour, swirl it, give it air, let it breathe.

Smokin’ Juice Six Pack

The White Corojo was an Italian picnic lunch wrapped in the guise of a cigar. Luckily I had the Baehner Fournier, Vozelgang Vineyard 2012 Sauvignon Blanc chilling contentedly. Roasted artichokes, bread notes and sometime half way through wafts of mint and white pepper came screaming in, reminded me of a boy I dated a lifetime ago: Kenny.  Ironically enough he was in a rock band named Borkum Riff. Huh.

The Green Pennsylvania Broadleaf was an absolute pleasure to smoke.  Acid up front, with a bit of raw earthiness straight through—I love the funk! I had a Brewer-Clifton, Gnesa Vineyard 2010 Chardonnay in the house and sipping and smoking together they conjured a sweet memory of Sommelier school, visiting wineries in Sonoma, tasting the wines and of course since we were “working” we spat either on the crush pad, dirt or drains: quite the heady spent wine twang in the air. Classic laid-back Sonoma!

Grapefruit and green melon was on the menu for the Azul Cameroon, a slight tart fruity impression of sweetness. I was reading the cigar’s profile and it’s labeled as a “bridge” meaning it has the acidity of the Green Broadleaf but with the round fullness of the other smokes. I immediately went to Oregon: Brooks “Sweet P” 2010 Riesling Eola-Amity Hills, Willamette Valley. Tart-sweet, funky, all musky melon and grapefruit with a touch of cane sugar.

The Black Natural was all scraped vanilla bean, a rich nutmeg spice right out of the grinder, roasted hazelnuts, honey—I just described a Meursault! I’m a big fan of Pierre Morey.

Black Maduro is a creamy smoke but with a laser edge, a little bit caramel, not sweet by any means but with a milk chocolate smokiness.  The Elk Cove 
2011 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley snuck it nicely and hung out—a nice threesome.

Matching the Red Habano was tough for me—I’m not a big fan of the “monster” wines.  Ron had mentioned it’s a full-flavoured cigar, matching well with big reds such as Zinfandels, Mourvedres and chewy Cabernets. And then it hit me: Beni di Batasiolo 2009 Barolo—a big wine, plenty of spice, dried herbs, tar, tannins up front but well integrated and a steal hovering just under $50.  With much of the same flavour profile, I was richly rewarded with this match.  Reminded me of Sunday dinners at my grandparents-good food and angst.

Pleasure and Pain

Memory associations are painfully important. Our olfactory senses are the most powerful because the olfactory bulb is part of the brain’s limbic system, an area so closely associated with memory and feeling it’s sometimes called the “emotional brain,” smell can recall memories and powerful responses almost instantaneously.

Although the association can happen quickly, reliving a particular moment takes time, we relax, focusing slowly upon the memory and how it fits in our lives today. I think that’s truly why I like to smoke: When someone asks how I relax I answer: “With a cigar.” That’s why cigars and wines are extremely similar. Different types each giving its own flavour profile, changing over a period of time, our senses alert and unrestrained—the ideal situation for a smoke and delicious juice. And as I open a bottle and light a cigar it becomes an altogether new experience for me, one wrought with memories that I may not have recalled if not for this research. So by taking that leap into the unknown I come out the other side knowing a hell of a lot more than when I started. Heady stuff indeed.

Tina and GUY, Partners
PROTOCOL wine studio