The hunt for the perfect Cuba cigar
Our featured bloggers, Dave and Carmen, head to Vinales in search of the perfect cigar. And find it in a ramshackle farmer’s hut.
The sky in Cuba is stark blue, the clouds are baking flour white, and the jungle is so green my eyes struggle to pick the palms from the Ceiba trees. The crisp hot sun sits so high in the sky there are almost no shadows. But as I walk beneath a jungle canopy toward a waterfall near the coastal city of Trinidad I see the colours in front of me blur and fade. Curling tendrils of something white ghost across the path and I smell coffee, tobacco and wood smoke all at once.
I follow my nose and come around a bend to discover a hut, small and square at the bottom with a peaked thatch roof on top. Three sides are closed off by chairs and long benches laid out with crockery like a tea party. ‘Would like a coffee my friend?’ the cheerful man inside calls to me. ‘Two CUCs fifty (US$2.50) for fresh coffee and it comes with a cigar.’
Of course I say yes and take a seat. Carmen joins me and our host welcomes us with a song as he grinds up the coffee in a mortar and pestle. His voice wails higher and higher as he taps out the rhythm with his pestle, which also grinds the coffee beans. When it’s ready he lifts the mortar up to my nose and I inhale the delicious aroma of freshly bashed coffee beans – so sharp and earthy I almost sneeze.
‘These are from my family’s farm,’ he says proudly. ‘So are the cigars. Do you want yours strong or mild?’
I don’t know what he means so he just picks up the cigar, sticks a skewer in the end to make a hole then dips it in a bowl of honey. ‘Here,’ he says. ‘Draw deep,’ and lights the business end while I huff and puff to get the thing started.
I roll the smoke around in my mouth and blow it out so it wafts up into the treetops. The honey on the tip dissolves a lot of the tobacco’s bitterness and a warm rush of nicotine floods through my body. This is heaven, I think to myself as our host hands me a steaming hot cup of black coffee.
Here I am, in the middle of the jungle in Cuba, smoking a cigar and drinking fresh coffee, not a care in the world, and all for the equivalent of two dollars fifty! Can it get any better than this?
