A Morning of Smoke and Silence

Most of my enjoyment of cigars takes place at home on the enclosed porch. In the colder months, I am usually alone (not lonely). So when I found myself sitting by myself in John B. Hayes Tobacconist in Winchester this week, it didn’t feel all that odd — surprising, perhaps, but not unusual.

When I arrived for a morning smoke, the familiar early morning crowd was present. They lingered only briefly before heading out, right on schedule. I can be confident it wasn’t me; this group tends to disperse around the same time most mornings, though there’s usually at least one other patron who remains. Even the proprietor spent most of the hour tucked away in his office, leaving the shop unusually quiet.

I selected a La Flor Dominicana Air Bender in the distinctive 6½ × 54 “Chisel” format. I hadn’t smoked anything from the Air Bender line in five or six years and couldn’t recall ever trying the Chisel vitola, so curiosity won out. The dark, oily Ecuadorian Habano wrapper looked especially inviting, while the ligero-heavy Dominican binder and filler promised a suitably robust morning smoke.

The Chisel shape — flattened and wedge-like — does indeed resemble a woodworker’s tool or perhaps the mouthpiece of a reed instrument. The end comes already open, and I’ve read that some smokers simply pinch it to create a larger opening rather than cutting. I opted to cut it anyway, though airflow remained somewhat restricted. After a few minutes, I took a bit more off the tip. Even then, the thin, flattened mouthfeel never felt entirely natural — despite my brief stint with the clarinet in my youth.

The Air Bender delivered exactly what it promised: a bold, flavorful smoke that never crossed into overwhelming territory, despite it being several hours before lunch. Peppery spice led the way, joined by cedar, dark chocolate, and coffee notes in a well-balanced profile. I had stopped for a creamy, vanilla-flavored chain coffee on the way in and its sweetness paired surprisingly well with the cigar’s darker character.

After about seventy-five minutes, it was time to set the cigar down — though it easily had another fifteen or twenty minutes left — and head out for lunch with my wife and a friend before the long drive home. Sitting there in the quiet shop, cigar in hand, watching the steady rhythm of people and cars pass outside, I was struck by how refreshing the moment felt. No conversation, no distractions — just good tobacco, and a pleasant morning stillness. It was a pause that was memorable long after the smoke has cleared.

Cheers!