Tag: Cigar Review

Have a Cigar: Columbus Short Churchill

Chris Khatsch1 Comment

Name: Columbus Short Churchill

Country: Honduras

Shape: Parejo

Size: Short Churchill (4 7/8 inches x 52)

Strength: Medium to Full

The Columbus Short Churchill is an interesting cigar with a stimulating aroma.

It smelled a little minty when I took it out of its tube. It was a good-looking cigar. When lit, the taste came with woody notes and hints of caramel.

I had planned to light it while reading Kafka, but I ended up smoking it while gardening under a scorching sun. That wasn’t the best time to smoke a cigar. Nonetheless, I did enjoy it… somewhat.

Though I usually smoke two-thirds of the cigar or more, I merely smoked the third of this one. A dry mouth and salty sweat on my lips made it impossible for me to enjoy it further. But that was not the cigar’s fault, of course.

I’ll have to try a Columbus cigar again another time.

Have a Cigar: Quorum Classic Torpedo

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Name: Quorum Torpedo

Country: Nicaragua

Shape: Torpedo

Size: (6 inches x 52)

Strength: Medium to Full

So I tried another Quorum cigar. This time it was a torpedo and not a parejo. And this makes the Quorum Classic Torpedo my first torpedo cigar. I still prefer the parejo shape, but I can get used to the torpedo shape easily. This one was my first but not my last.

What I like about Quorum cigars is that they are very affordable. But unlike a lot of cheap cigars, they are flavorful and reliable. The value you get for the price you pay makes them great cigars.

The Quorum Torpedo is earthy and leathery with minute hints of chocolate. Like most medium-to-full bodied cigars, you can pair it with peated whisky. And that’s exactly what I did.

Have a Cigar: Condega Serie ‘F’ Magnum

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Name: Condega Serie ‘F’ Magnum

Country: Nicaragua

Shape: Parejo

Size: Toro (6 1/2 inches x 52)

Strength: Medium to Full

In a folding picnic armchair
our man sat like a king on a hill
after a decisive battle.

The orange moon smiled before it was shrouded by the smoke
that crept upward
like a dead man’s soul.

A cheap cigar danced to the rhythm of classic rock songs
like a magician’s wand (burning)
like a conductor’s baton (on fire)
communicating musical ideas
celebrating life
despite the turmoil, tumult, and turbulence.

The cigar was a paint brush
and the night sky was an empty canvas.
Gray on black: an alluring belly dance.
Gray on black: the last breath of a soldier.

Our man felt a poem being written
somewhere in the near future,
a poem written phenomenologically
now.

“Yes, yes,” our man said right now.
“So the muses came like they often do
when they smell a cigar burn.”

And then he jotted down whatever came to him.