by Anonymous
A gift of one of my father’s graduate students some twenty-plus years ago, my father and I shared one of my first cigars, a Brasilia (a brand I have rarely found since, and only in dry-cure varieties). Relaxing at the dining room table after dinner, Dad with his cognac and me with an iced glass of Rolling Rock beer, we admired the Corona Gorda sized cigars with their smooth, Colorado Claro shade wrappers.
Not knowing much about cigar smoking, I observed in wonder as my Dad dipped the head of his cigar in the snifter of cognac and enjoyed the blend of his drink with the wrapper flavors on his palette. Being the typical, young novice, I followed suite and dipped my cigar head in the ice cold Rolling Rock and attempted to savor the flavors as they soaked into the wrapper.
The cigars were packaged in an attractive hand-carved, varnished wooden box. Although quite striking as a presentation piece, the box was not at all functional as a humidor where my father rested his cigars. With a loose seal and no humidification device, the box soon allowed these wonderful cigars to transform into dried-out, flavorless sticks.