Ash Wednesday: A Cigar and a Pint

Ash Wednesday is a day of fasting and abstinence for Catholics. Though I am well past the age when the Church requires such penance, it feels odd not to offer the sacrifice — as long as health allows. So food was minimal on Wednesday as we marked the beginning of Lent. Recalling the Latin phrase “Liquidum non frangit ieiunium quadragesimale” — “Liquid does not break the Lenten fast” — the day was made easier by the anticipation of a good cigar and a pour of Guinness that evening.

The cigar I selected was one I’ve enjoyed often: the My Father El Centurion H-2K-CT. It’s a versatile smoke, one I’ve paired with nearly everything — beer, whiskey, wine, coffee, even water — and it rarely disappoints. I had picked up a few more some months ago and had been reminding myself to let them rest. While scrolling through my inventory app recently, I realized they’d been sitting for nearly four months. Clearly, the waiting period had been satisfied.

A can of Guinness Draught Stout was poured — into the proper glass, of course — to accompany the smoke.

The My Father El Centurion H-2K-CT is a box-pressed 6 x 52 Toro featuring an oily, caramel-hued H-2K-CT Connecticut wrapper — a Cuban-seed strain grown in open sunlight in the Connecticut River Valley — which gives the cigar its name. Nicaraguan binder and fillers round out the blend. Medium-bodied and notably creamy, it delivers a measured pepper warmth alongside layered notes of vanilla, nuts, caramel, roasted coffee, honeyed sweetness, and a subtle touch of dark fruit.

At a modest 4.1% ABV, the smooth, creamy Irish stout proved a fitting companion, its texture mirroring the cigar’s own creaminess. It’s always a welcome treat — though even with its nitro enhancement, it doesn’t quite aspire to the greatness of a pint enjoyed in the “Mother Land.”

Together, the cigar and stout offered a mild, balanced experience — nothing heavy or overly bold — well suited to a quiet, contemplative beginning to Lent.

Cheers!

A Lenten Tale

It's Ash Wednesday, and the beginning of Lent. It's good to add some humor to the fasting.

An Irishman moves into a tiny hamlet in County Kerry, walks into the pub and promptly orders three beers.

The bartender raises his eyebrows, but serves the man three beers, which he drinks quietly at a table, alone.

An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more.

This happens yet again.

The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the Man Who Orders Three Beers.

Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why you always order three beers?"

'Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies, "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."

The bartender and the whole town was pleased with this answer, and soon the Man Who Orders Three Beers became a local celebrity and source of pride to the hamlet, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him drink.

Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening - he orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.

The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all..."

The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well... It's just that I, myself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."

Messrs Maguire Pub, Dublin, 2012

Cheers!

Winter Reprieve: Fuente Maduro & Port-Finished Bourbon

Maybe we’re getting a small break from the deep freeze. Even if only temporary, an evening above freezing made for a relaxing stretch of time on the porch — aided by the propane heater of course. For this evening’s repast, I selected an Arturo Fuente Maduro Churchill that has been resting in the humidor since early August. At 7¼″ × 48, I figured the stick would deliver a couple of unhurried hours of relaxation.

The dark Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro wraps binder and fillers from the Dominican Republic. The wrapper appears thick and dense, lending the cigar a somewhat rustic character. Deep, earthy notes of oak, coffee, and cocoa open the smoke. After a short while, dark chocolate and a sweet, toasted nuttiness round out the profile. A gentle sweetness gradually builds, eventually leaving a faintly syrupy coating on the palate.

To accompany the cigar, I brought out a bottle of Isaac Bowman Port Barrel Finished Bourbon. There was just a plus-sized pour left — fortunately, enough to carry me well into the smoke.

The 92-proof bourbon spends 4½ to 5½ years in new charred oak before finishing three to six months in port barrels. The port influence contributes a sweet, fruity layer — dark cherry and raisin notes come forward — while the familiar brown sugar, vanilla, and spice of the base bourbon remain intact.

I’ve become a fan of port- and sherry-finished bourbons alongside a cigar. The medium-bodied Fuente Maduro offered just enough sweetness to align nicely with the Isaac Bowman. I set the cigar down after about 110 minutes. Though my glass was emptied before the final inch, the lingering bourbon notes seemed to extend their influence over the remaining smoke.

Winter may not yet be finished — and the stubborn layer of “snowcrete” still dominates the landscape — but even a modest reprieve is a welcome gift.

Cheers!

Rye and Broadleaf Against the Cold

After nearly two weeks of resorting to the cigar lounge for a smoke — mostly due to bitter cold temperatures — I was finally able to spend some time enjoying a cigar and drink on the porch this past week. As enjoyable as the lounge is, I prefer selecting from my own humidor. As the sun was beginning its descent, the outside thermometer read 31° — “mild” enough to be counteracted by the propane heaters.

I grabbed a Mi Querida Triqui Traca No. 652 and a pour of Buzzard’s Roost Cigar Rye to accompany the cigar.

The Dunbarton Tobacco & Trust cigar had been sitting in my humidor for five months. A dark, USA-grown Connecticut Broadleaf maduro wrapper sits tight and smooth over a Nicaraguan binder and fillers from Nicaragua and the Dominican Republic. The blend includes some ligero leaf among the filler tobaccos.

The cigar comes in solidly full-bodied, with deep, rich notes of dark chocolate and espresso right off the bat. A bit of black pepper joins in as the cigar warms. Joined by a dark sweetness, the spice never dominates but instead adds depth to the profile. The bold, rich flavors remain steady and consistent throughout the smoke.

The Buzzard’s Roost Cigar Rye is a pour I’ve enjoyed on numerous occasions, as evidenced by the declining level in the bottle. Batch 2 of the line was released in the fall of 2022 and takes a different path from many so-called “cigar blend” whiskeys. Rather than relying on secondary finishes in cognac, port, or wine casks, this expression begins with a mash bill of 95 percent rye and 5 percent malted barley and is bottled at a moderate 105 proof. The whiskey is matured in specially treated barrels — including char #1 oak and finishing techniques designed to introduce subtle smoky and tobacco-like nuances — an unusual step that hints at the profile to come.  

The rye spice arrives first on the sip, followed quickly by notes of tobacco, char, and a touch of citrus brightness that keeps the whiskey lively. Caramel and citrus-tinged rye notes settle into the foreground, while gentle smoke lingers for quite some time on the palate. The smoky finish is mild, evocative of tobacco and seasoned wood rather than a campfire.

I initially had some apprehension that the potent flavors of the Mi Querida Triqui Traca might overpower the subtle smoky accent of the rye. However, I found the pairing to be quite delightful. There’s enough spice from the rye to stand up to the bold cigar, and its smoky accent is not lost. In fact, I felt that the charred wood notes in the Buzzard’s Roost were actually lifted somewhat by the cocoa and pepper of the cigar.

The nearly two-hour smoke was a relaxing and refreshing diversion from the bitter cold and ice-covered landscape we’ve been experiencing. The heaters did their work well, though I suspect the cigar and rye deserved most of the credit.

Cheers!

Saint José Sánchez del Río: A Martyr’s Faithful Witness

A repost.

Today, February 10, marks the anniversary of the martyrdom of Saint José Sánchez del Río. On this day in 1928, a 14-year-old boy was executed by Mexican government forces for refusing to renounce his Catholic faith during the Cristero War. This period of brutal persecution, led by Mexican President Plutarco Elías Calles, was poignantly depicted in the film For Greater Glory.

Saint José was beatified by Pope Benedict XVI on November 20, 2005, and canonized by Pope Francis on October 16, 2016. Despite his young age, his courage and unwavering faith have made him an enduring symbol of religious freedom and devotion.

Saint José’s story is tragically underappreciated, particularly among American Catholics. Yet many may unknowingly recognize his face. A famous photograph of the boy standing alongside Cristero fighters often adorns the walls of Mexican restaurants in the United States. Few diners realize that this young man, who fought and died for his faith, is now a canonized Saint.

After being captured by government forces, José was subjected to unspeakable torment. Forced to witness the execution of fellow Catholics, he was repeatedly pressured to denounce his faith and cry, “Death to Christ the King.” He steadfastly refused.

On the day of his execution, José was forced to walk barefoot to his grave after the soles of his feet were cut. Along the way, he was repeatedly stabbed with bayonets, yet he continued to proclaim, “¡Viva Cristo Rey!” (Long live Christ the King!).

When he reached his grave, the soldiers shot him. Even then, José drew a cross in the dirt with his own blood as a final act of faith and defiance. Enraged by the boy’s resistance, the commander shot him in the head.

The Cristero War, during which countless Catholics were killed for their beliefs, is a dark chapter often ignored in history books in both the United States and Mexico. It is a story of oppression and heroism that all freedom-loving people should know.

Saint José Sánchez del Río is a powerful model of faith, courage, and resistance against tyranny. His steadfastness in the face of unimaginable suffering is a challenge to all of us to stand firm in our beliefs, no matter the cost.

May we draw strength from his example when our own faith is tested.

Saint José Sánchez del Río, Pray For Us!

The Bitter Giuseppe Cocktail

The Bitter Giuseppe is a comparatively low-ABV cocktail that’s well suited to afternoon sipping. Although I generally prefer a bourbon- or rye-based drink, I’ve been turning to this one often lately, especially as a Sunday afternoon aperitif.

The Bitter Guiseppe 

• 2 oz. Cynar
• 1 oz. Sweet Vermouth
• 1/4 oz. fresh lemon juice
• 4 dashes Orange Bitters 
• 1 swath lemon peel
• Expressed lemon oil and peel for garnish

Combine all the ingredients in a mixing glass. Express the lemon peel and drop it into the glass. Add ice and stir well. Strain into a rocks glass over a large ice cube and garnish with another bit of lemon peel. 

This amaro cocktail shares a family resemblance to the Manhattan or the Negroni, but it is somewhat softer in flavor. Cynar, an artichoke-based amaro, lends a gentle vegetal bitterness to the drink. It’s a flavor I enjoy and one that also appears in the In Cold Blood cocktail. In warmer weather, it makes a fine accompaniment to a medium-bodied cigar — a pairing I look forward to once the winter deep freeze gives way to something just a little a bit warmer.

Cheers!

La Flor Dominicana Cabinet Oscuro: Ligero Before Noon

During a visit to Winchester, VA, I dropped into the John B. Hayes Tobacconist to enjoy a morning smoke. Lately, when I've visited this lounge, I’ve found myself lingering over the La Flor Dominicana section of the humidor cabinets. Despite the early hour, I was in the mood for something robust, so I grabbed a pair of La Flor Dominicana Ligero Cabinet Oscuro L-400s — one to enjoy on the spot, and one to take home.

The 5 ¾″ × 54 stick wears a very dark Ecuadorian Sumatra Oscuro wrapper, glistening with an oily sheen. The binder and filler are Dominican, including hearty ligero leaves grown at LFD’s La Canela farm. It had been a few years since I last smoked one of these, though it was once a favorite companion to a dark — often high-ABV — stout when visiting the now-fondly-remembered Olde Town Tobacconist Lounge at 1781 Brewing. This time, coffee was to provide accompaniment for the morning smoke.

The La Flor Dominicana Ligero Cabinet Oscuro starts off boldly, delivering a solid medium-to-full-bodied blast of flavor. Thick clouds of smoke pour forth, carrying notes of dark coffee with a touch of black pepper. As the cigar progresses, the profile deepens into an earthy, woody richness, underpinned by a subtle sweetness that keeps everything in balance. Though never harsh or excessively spicy, around the halfway point the ligero tobaccos begin to assert themselves. The strength is unmistakable — not overwhelming, and without ill effect — but certainly more noticeable in a morning smoke.

Unlike my last visit, the lounge this morning was busy and the shop keeper pulled out an extra chair to provide me a seat. After a week of the extreme cold dissuading me from smoking on the porch, the indoor smoke provided some welcome pleasure. 

Cheers!

A Great Lake of Beer: St. Brigid’s Feast Day

Today, February 1, is the Feast Day of St. Brigid of Ireland — a saint whose legacy is inseparable from both faith and tradition, and whose name is uniquely entwined with beer.

Our family has long held a particular affection for this great saint. In fact, Brigid is my lovely wife's Confirmation Saint. In Ireland, she is revered second only to St. Patrick in popularity.

St. Brigid Statue, Knock Shrine,
County Mayo, Ireland

According to legend, Brigid was once working in a leper colony when the community ran out of beer. In those days, beer was an important source of safe hydration and nourishment, so the shortage was no small matter. Brigid is said to have miraculously transformed her bathwater into beer to sustain the lepers and visiting clerics. In another miracle attributed to the saint, she provided beer to eighteen churches throughout an entire Easter season — all from a single barrel kept in her convent.

Brigid was inspired by the preaching of St. Patrick and, along with him, is recognized as a Patron Saint of Ireland. Throughout her life she was a fierce advocate for the poor. As a young woman she frequently gave away her family’s possessions to those in need, much to their frustration, until she was eventually permitted to enter religious life. Around 470 A.D., she founded Ireland’s first convent, which grew into one of the most important monastic centers in the country.

St. Brigid's Well, County Clare, Ireland

The historical details of St. Brigid’s life are difficult to separate from legend. Many accounts are woven together with miracles and elements of pre-Christian Irish folklore. Even so, her influence is undeniable, and she remains one of the most important figures in Celtic and Irish history.

One prayer attributed to St. Brigid begins, “I’d like a great lake of beer for the King of Kings. I would like to be watching Heaven’s family drinking it through all eternity.” A worthy wish indeed.

St. Patrick and St. Brigid,
The Black Abbey, Kilkenny, Ireland

Today, we’ll raise a toast to St. Brigid — her generosity, her compassion, and her enduring place in Irish tradition. Here’s hoping we all someday glimpse that great lake.

St. Brigid, Ora Pro Nobis!