Winter's Pause and a Saintly Smoke

As we settle into the early days of Lent, I turned to a cigar created to honor a newly canonized saint for a Friday evening smoke. I wrote about Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati last September on the occasion of his canonization. At that time, I ordered a few cigars named in his honor from Regina Cigars — the PGF ST-090725. They’ve been resting in my humidor since, and this week I finally lit one.

According to Regina Cigars, the blend was crafted by Noel Rojas, known as well for the popular Street Tacos series. An oily Habano wrapper covers the cigar, extending slightly over the foot — though in varying degrees among the samples I have — lending the stick a somewhat unfinished, rustic appearance.

I lit the Frassati-themed cigar on an upliftingly warm evening. The outdoor temperature hovered around 60°, while the porch thermometer optimistically pointed to 70. The damp air felt cooler than either reading suggested, but a heater running on low took the edge off and made for a comfortable setting.

The cigar opened with mild notes of earth and leather. There was little sweetness or spice in the understated introduction. I held off on sipping my accompanying beverage, giving the cigar time to develop its character.

After the first inch or so, the flavor began to build. A gentle, sweet nuttiness joined the earth and leather. The profile itself remained consistent, but the added depth created more interest and a more engaging experience.

Expecting a mild-to-medium smoke, I poured a glass of Four Roses Small Batch Bourbon to accompany it. At 90 proof, the bourbon offers a soft fruit sweetness with a restrained spice. Once the cigar reached its steady state, the bourbon’s lingering spice subtly amplified the sweeter and nutty notes in the smoke rather than overpowering them.

The Pier Giorgio Frassati cigar ultimately provided a mild and contemplative experience. While enjoyable in the evening, I suspect it would be even better suited to a quiet morning or early afternoon. Still, paired with an easy-sipping bourbon, it proved a pleasant way to conclude a simple Lenten day.

The mild weather added to the enjoyment. Knowing it was only a brief reprieve — with another winter storm forecast in the coming days — heightened the appreciation of the moment.

Cheers!

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!

A Birthday in Lent: Quiet Moments and Simple Pleasures

My birthday each year falls somewhere within the season of Lent. That means any celebrations are typically subdued, with the occasion often more notably marked after Easter. This year, the day landed on a Friday in Lent, and combined with my ongoing recovery from back surgery, the observance was especially low-key.

But that doesn't mean the day wasn't enjoyed. After a relaxing afternoon, we had a simple dinner of fish and chips. As is proper, a tall glass of Guinness Stout Nitro accompanied the meal. While it didn’t quite have the same magic as enjoying a pint in a pub in Ireland, it was still thoroughly satisfying.

During this post-surgery period, I've been limiting my indulgence in both alcoholic beverages and cigars. Part of that is simply because pain and disrupted sleep diminish the enjoyment of those finer things. However, marking another completed year—an accomplishment not without its challenges—certainly warranted a special treat. Or two.

I had, not surprisingly, been anticipating the pleasure of a cigar and bourbon for some weeks. I wanted something flavorful but not exceptionally strong, so had a while back had decided on an Oliva Serie V Melanio. The selected cigar, a perennial favorite, is a box-pressed 5 x 52 Robusto with a chocolatey Ecuadorian grown Sumatra-seed wrapper. It has a Nicaraguan binder and the filler leaves are a blend of Nicaraguan Habano tobaccos from the Jalapa region. 

The rich blend of aged tobaccos produced a smoke brimming with creamy notes of chocolate, coffee, and toasted bread. Subtle hints of black pepper and sweetness lingered in the background, and the finish left a pleasant nuttiness alongside the spice. It's a cigar that pairs wonderfully with sweet bourbon or even a black coffee.

For my drink, I spied a bottle of Old Grand-Dad 114 with just a small pour remaining. It seemed like the perfect choice for a relaxed evening. This high-rye bourbon, bottled at 114 proof, offers an aromatic nose of spicy rye and brown sugar with a noticeable yet not overpowering alcohol warmth. On the palate, it delivers a delightful blend of brown sugar and caramel, accented by bold rye spice and a touch of cinnamon. The long and satisfying finish leaves a lasting impression of warmth and spice. At under $35 a bottle, Old Grand-Dad 114 deserves to be a staple on my shelf, and I’ll be sure to replace this one soon.

I savored the cigar and bourbon while enjoying a peaceful hour on the screened porch. The springtime air had a slight chill, comfortably mitigated by the propane heater nearby. It's likely this will be the last time the heater sees use until the fall. While my enjoyment of cigars will remain limited and sporadic over the next few months, this celebratory interlude was deeply appreciated and thoroughly enjoyed.

Cheers!

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Five O'Clock Friday: A Lenten Sacrifice

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."

Cheers!

A Lenten Sacrifice

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."

Ash Wednesday: Interpreting Those Ashes

And so begins Lent.

Five O'Clock (Meatless) Friday: Lent

Reminder to myself:

It's Good Friday. Lent is almost over.

Five O'Clock Friday: A Lenten Sacrifice

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."

Five O'Clock Friday: First Friday of Lent

John Smith was the only Protestant to move into a large Catholic neighborhood. On the first Friday of Lent, John was outside grilling a big juicy steak on his grill.

Meanwhile, all of his neighbors were eating cold tuna fish for supper. This went on each Friday of Lent. On the last Friday of Lent, the neighborhood men got together and decided that something had to be done about John; he was tempting them to eat meat each Friday of Lent, and they couldn't take it anymore.

They decided to try and convert John to be a Catholic. They went over and talked to him and were so happy that he decided to join all of his neighbors and become a Catholic. They took him to church, and the priest sprinkled some water over him, and said, "You were born a Baptist, you were raised a Baptist, and now you are a Catholic."

The men were so relieved, now their biggest Lenten temptation was resolved.

The next year's Lenten season rolled around. The first Friday of Lent came, and just at supper time, when the neighbor were sitting down to their tuna fish dinner, there came the wafting smell of steak cooking on a grill.

The neighborhood men could not believe their noses! What was going on? They called each other up and decided to meet over in John's yard to see if he had forgotten it was the first Friday of Lent.

The group arrived just in time to see John standing over his grill with a small pitcher of water. He was sprinkling some water over his steak on the grill, saying, "You were born a cow, you were raised a cow, and now you are a fish."

Stay Holy With Drink

Some Lenten advice.

Translation:

Who drinks, sleeps
Who is sleeping, do not sin
Whoever does not sin, is holy
Therefore, he who drinks is holy.

H/T St. Peter's List

A Bell's Brewing Break From Cabin Fever

Friday Night was the "Bell's Dirty Dozen" tap takeover at Capital Ale House, so Colleen and I headed downtown for some good beers and a meatless dinner. The roads were clear from this week's snowstorm, and with more snowfall headed our way Saturday, this was likely to be the only break from the Winter doldrums we'd have this weekend.

Before we got to the beer menu, we needed to order food. We struggled a bit with the menu during this Friday in Lent. Perusing the appetizer menu we paused at the tasty Fried Pierogies; Fried potato and onion pierogies topped with applewood smoked bacon bits. And the soup special on Fridays is Scallop Chowder, with bacon. We finally settled on the Spinach, Crab & Artichoke Dip appetizer and Fish & Chips as our main course. Now on to the beer.

Twelve Bell's Brewing beers were offered, some new, some we've enjoyed before. We selected a few that we planned share during the evening. I had already decided I would start with the seasonal Hopslam Double IPA. This is an intensely hoppy beer, one whose popularity I believe is enhanced by its limited availability. I refuse to pay $20-$30 for a six pack, but do try to enjoy it on draft each year. Colleen ordered the Third Coast Old Ale Barleywine. This one has some nice dark fruit and is mildly flavored, as Barleywines go, but quite enjoyable. 

Also on tap this evening were some interesting beers from Perennial Artisan Ales of St. Louis, Missouri. When we were handed that menu, our decision making was thrown for a loop, since we now had more options to process. (A good problem to have.) Colleen ordered Perennial's Vermilion Barleywine. This one was a little more robustly flavored than the Bell's version, with rich, dark fruit and molasses notes. After much thought, and a recommendation from a friend, I opted to stick with Bell's and ordered Roundhouse IRA, an "India Red Ale." Slightly sweet and resinous, the flavor of the hoppy red ale was at first hidden by the lingering flavors of the barleywines. After a few sips my palate "reset" and I enjoyed the full flavors of the beer.

There were still many interesting beers to try, from both menus, but one can only do so much in a sitting. I decided to wind down with a Bell's Kal-Haven Ale. This Rye Ale is fermented with Brettanomyces yeast giving it a funky, sour flavor. The sourness worked well with the breadiness of the rye. It was certainly a switch from the evening's previous beers. I lingered on this glass for quite a while, sipping slowly and enjoying the interesting flavor of the sour ale.

It was an extremely pleasant evening, and a great relief from being cooped up by work and weather. As I write this post on Saturday morning, the snow is falling steadily. (And another planned trip to the range cancelled.) I guess as ProudHillbilly noted, February is hibernation time. But hey, I don't have to like it!

Five O'Clock (Catholic) Friday: Lent

Have a great weekend!

A Lenten Reminder

It's a meatless Friday.

 Courtesy of Paul's Bakery.

Lent. Here it comes.

Now That's A Crab Cake

Colleen and I decided to meet for lunch today and we caught up with the bright orange Beach Fries & Fun Food truck. I had heard rumors about an awesome crab cake sandwich being served up by these folks. This meatless Friday seemed a good time to try them out.

Wow! We were not disappointed. Having grown up near Baltimore, and practically weaned on crab cakes, and steamed crabs, I've had my share of both these regional delicacies. My impression of most restaurant crab cake sandwiches is that once you manage to find the crab cake under the bread, you may be hard pressed to find the crab in the cake. Not so with the sandwich served at the Beach Fries truck. The crab cake hung out on all sides. And a CRAB cake it was. Large lumps of crab were barely held together by minimal filler. In fact, when I finished the sandwich I had a bunch of crab meat left in the tray to pick up and eat with my fingers. The sandwich is served with rémoulade, tomato, lettuce and onion on a roll. This is without a doubt the best crab cake sandwich I've had in recent memory.

Beach Fries also offers chicken breast sandwiches, fried bologna sandwiches, and fresh cut french fries (obviously). They also deep fry interesting foods such as corn on the cob, mac & cheese and double stuffed Oreos. We didn't try any of these items, it is Lent after all.

Want to try the crab cake for yourself? You'll need to check the Beach Fries website or their Facebook page to find out where the truck will be parked. They are out and about for lunch and dinner during the week, and all day on Saturday. Believe me, it will be worth your effort.

Friday in Lent. No meat allowed. But this was hardly a sacrifice. Okay, I'll attend the parish soup supper tonight for my penance.

Redneck Lent

Each Friday night after work, Bubba would fire up his outdoor grill and cook a venison steak. But, all of Bubba's neighbors were Catholic. Since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating meat on Friday.

The delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest. The Priest came to visit Bubba, and suggested that he become a Catholic. After several classes and much study, Bubba was converted. At the Mass, as the priest sprinkled holy water over Bubba, he said, "You were born a Baptist, and raised a Baptist, but now you are a Catholic."

Bubba's neighbors were greatly relieved, until the first Friday night arrived, and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison once again filled the neighborhood. The neighbors called the Priest immediately. As the priest rushed into Bubba's yard, clutching a rosary and prepared to scold him, he stopped and watched in amazement. There stood Bubba, clutching a small bottle of holy water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat and chanted: "You wuz born a deer, you wuz raised a deer, but now you is a catfish."

Lent

And so it begins. This period of prayer and penance before Easter is so often dreaded by some of my fellow Catholics. But this is a period of renewal. A chance to begin anew. It goes well beyond giving up chocolate, or beer. While those choice are not by themselves wrong, I feel that it may miss the point. Sure, sacrifice is the theme of the liturgical season, but sacrifice can be a means to joy. It's a path to a permanent improvement in our lives, not a change lasting merely 40 days.

I will sacrifice more of my time for prayer and spiritual reading. I will sacrifice my enjoyment of some pleasure for the sake of joining myself to the suffering of Jesus on the cross. Sure, on this Ash Wednesday I'll be hungry as I willingly meet my obligation of abstinence and fasting. But what a minor suffering that will be. These sacrifices are not meant to punish myself, they are intended to make me stronger.

Lent should be a time after which we find ourselves better than when we started. I pray that my additional time spent in prayer will continue. I pray those extra efforts to help others will inspire me to continue that charity year-round. I pray that you find the same renewal.

May you have a wonderful and growth-filled Lent.

Take heed that you do not your justice before men, to be seen by them: otherwise you shall not have a reward of your Father who is in heaven. Therefore when thou dost an almsdeed, sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be honoured by men. Amen I say to you, they have received their reward. But when thou dost alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth. That thy alms may be in secret, and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee. And when ye pray, you shall not be as the hypocrites, that love to stand and pray in the synagogues and corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men: Amen I say to you, they have received their reward. But thou when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret: and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee. -- Matthew 6; 1-6

“It is accomplished”

Were greater words ever spoken? With these words, God, humbled as man, breathed his last. All this was done for our sake, and ours alone. What love He showed in His sacrifice. A sacrifice that no man could make. It is for this reason we call today Good Friday. By this action He redeemed mankind. Think about it; God sacrificed Himself, in reparation for sins man perpetrated against God Himself. Thinking about it takes my breath away. On this day, the greatest act of forgiveness, of love, in all of history, took place.

This year, Holy Week seems extra close and personal for my family. Just a few months ago we were in the Holy Land. We walked were Our Lord walked, where he lived, where he died. Listening to the readings at Mass this Holy Week I am struck by the memories of being in the very places these events took place, of walking the same streets, of touching the ground upon which He died, praying in the tomb in which He was placed.

Today we lit the lamp in our home that hangs in front of a crucifix that contains relics from the Holy Land. I walk by that crucifix many times each day. But today, it seems somehow different.

And saying this, he gave up the ghost. Now the centurion, seeing what was done, glorified God, saying: Indeed this was a just man.  And all the multitude of them that were come together to that sight, and saw the things that were done, returned striking their breasts. --Luke 23:46-48

And the Word became flesh

Nine months before Christmas. Today is the Feast of the Annunciation. On this day we celebrate Mary's fiat, her "yes." That was the day that everything changed. That was the day that God took on our human form. The rest, as they say, is history.

And for those of you keeping track, this Solemnity trumps a Friday in Lent. So you're good to go for that bacon cheeseburger!

Church of the Annunciation, Nazareth. August 2010
Photo by C. Turley.