http://ift.tt/19YbUDj To fully understand my position on the Dutch Master cigar you will need a little back story. It all starts a little over a week ago when my brother mysteriously shows up on the eastern side of the united states, carrying what seems to be a fancy cosmetics bag at first. After much socializing with various family members, my brother turns to me with his fancy bag clutched tightly in his rugged hand and asks "is there someplace else we can go in this god forsaken winter wonderland? perhaps your garage? I have something I think you'll like."
Like a woman stepping threw the front door of a cheap motel following her high school prom, I was both skeptical and excited for this promise of a life changing gift about to be bestowed upon me. As we walked into my slightly cluttered 2 stall garage on a brisk 30 degree March night my brother put it in my hand, it was long and dark, its pungent aroma was like nothing my nose had ever experienced, and when I put it to my lips, well... that is when the true magic happened. As I put a fire to the cigar I now clutched tightly between my lips I could start tasting things that were familiar to me, things that brought back memories of old. Even my untrained pallet was able to pick up hints of wood and flowers as i was walked threw the intricacies of learning to refine my comparatively infantile pallet.
The following night I was invited to partake in the experience of booth cigar smoking and meeting a cigar aficionado from the legendary Reddit cigar board. A local bowling ally with an under used cigar lounge was the predetermined location for the meeting, a place both public enough for such an occasion, and privet enough for the intimate encounter to come. As my brother and I walked threw the heavy glass door and into the cigar lounge we were greeted by two of the worlds most iconic figures, one was a 7 foot tall wooden Indian chief with a beautify carved feather head dress, the other was the man from Reddit. The man from Reddit was seated in what I would later come to know to be "a surprisingly comfortable and plush chair" , he was a true specimen of what a man should be, a plaid button down shirt that must have been woven of the finest Egyptian cotton, a beard that rivaled most Norse gods, eyes that shined wisdom, and a hand shake that was both firm yet appropriate.
After the introductions were threw, what could only be described as a shank less prison trade took place, both men that sat across from me were trading hand fulls of beautifully crafted tobacco sticks with great excitement, it was as if you could see the innocence and joy of a child on Christmas morning in their eyes. At this point I was offered yet another cigar, one I would later be told was imported from the once mythical land of Cuba. "This is it" I thought to myself, this was the moment i would experience what really living was all about, this is my time to smoke a cigar that was the source of childhood dreams and fantasy around the country. As I look back on that moment with my eyes closed I can still smell and taste the disappointment that I let linger in my mouth and nasal passages. A disappointment that comes from a still untrained pallet coming into contact with something that should have been so much more than what it was. I was like a child that had acquired an expensive chocolate truffle, unable to distinguish it from something found on petrol station shelves, but knowing it should mean more. It was at this point I was determined to train my senses and revisit the ecstasy I felt robbed of, I made the decision to become a smoker.
Fast forward nearly a week from where we left off, Easter dinner was finished, the children were back with their mothers, and a fresh 6 pack of cider resided in my refrigerator at home, it was the perfect time to both enjoy the 45 degree weather we were blessed with and start my journey to refine my taste for burning tobacco. Not sure what to do and driven by desire, I did the only thing I could think to do with cigar shops closed, I stopped at a petrol station. as I walked threw the door i noticed a line at the counter, this was good since I wasn't sure what it was that I was looking for and at the same time, didn't want to come across as ignorant to the product I was about to purchase. As i stare at the wall of cigar wraps and black and mild boxes behind the counter the line had dissipated and it was my turn to make my selection, still not seeing anything even closely resembling the cigar of weeks past, I panicked. I told the young man behind the counter to give me a box of the first thing i saw that didn't come in a neon colored package. "I'll take a box of Dutch Masters and this lighter please", the man behind the counter rang me up and away I went, fairly confident he knew I was a non smoker.
When I got to my home just minutes away i hurried inside, grabbed a bottle of hard cider, and rushed back out my door and too the back patio. As I opened the box of cigars I remember thinking "how will I cut the tip?" but to my surprise, the Dutch master cigar had a (very off center) hole pierced in the end and no further trimming was necessary. As I held the cigar in my hand I could feel its lack of quality, its lack of passion by the maker, its lack of soul. It was this moment I felt as if I had understood something unfathomable to me previously, cigars tell a story, just by holding it in your hand you can learn things about the men who assemble such treasures, you can feel the heart that a true artisan pours into his masterpiece. With the Dutch Master President still in my hand I reluctantly made the decision to continue my journey, as I put the cigar to my lips I could feel its dryness, something I would not have noticed had my brother and glorious Reddit man bestowed me with basic cigar knowledge. As I placed the flame to the end of my cigar I remember thinking how easily it was lighting, much easier and faster than the cigars I had previously lit.
With the back story out of the way we are brought to the meaning of this post, my first ever review of a cigar whose name I remember, the Dutch Masters President. It is with an unrefined pallet I tell you of the immediate sweetness noticeable on your lips as you press the cigar to your mouth, a sweetness that can only be described as honey mixed with equal parts sugar and crushed lucky charms marshmallows. The mouth feel of this cigar is very light, the smoke feels almost content less and weak despite the easy draw and massive cloud you can easily produce. The taste of this cigar in your mouth is that of burning toilet paper that was pulled from a Mexican bathroom (complete with a few hairs), although this may not be the exact flavor notes intended by the maker, it is the worst presumed flavor I can think of and for this reason alone it is fitting. The notes i received from my nasal passages were surprisingly more pleasant and lighter than those perceived orally, comparable to that of a wet dog drying itself off next to a pile of burning cardboard. After taking 3 drags off of the Dutch Master President I decided to put it out, which is where its true potential lies. After extinguishing the stick I was able to easily brake it up into dusty, biodegradable pieces and leave it inconspicuously in the mulch surrounding my patio, where its color, texture, and overall appearance went nicely with the leaves still left behind from the first round of spring yard work.
I hope this review will help cigar buyers around the world make educated decisions about the Dutch Master President, and I look forward to reviewing many more cigars along my road to pallet perfection. If anyone would like to sample this cigar please message me and I'll be glad to send you one of the remaining 4 I have left in my possession.
Submitted April 06, 2015 at 06:41PM by BSQuinn http://ift.tt/1aBP1Xx cigars
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