Letting My Mind Wander With A: Diamantes House Roll

[polarbear]

The new review for the months is done, guys

Please post your thoughts.

Please note: I take no responsibility for any innacurate historical info, I am simply repeating what I was told and I'm no history buff

If there is one things I’ll credit America with getting right, it’s their approach to cigars. Sure, you can argue that thanks to the literally thousands of brands and lines manufactured primarily for the American market that there are more crap cigars around these days than good ones, but I’m not going to go into that, that’s an argument for another time. What I am referring to today is the humble American Cigar Store. Seriously, there are hundreds of them over there. Every one keeping a different range of cigars, all with different house rules, dress codes, cut fees etc. Some of the larger and more popular Stores/Lounges in the States go as far to have a cigar rolled especially for them, to be sold only in their store, usually at a lower price point than most of the branded stock they carry. This allows the store to offer a competitively priced cigar without sacrificing quality. It’s a pretty good idea. These “house rolls”, as they are known, are usually sold in bundles and unbanded for anything from $3-$6 a stick.

During my travels, if I find myself in a cigar lounge, I always enquire about a house roll. Not because I am cheap, or on a budget, but because these house rolls are usually the hidden gems of the store. Selling for almost half what a cigar of similar quality banded would. If the roll is good I buy a bundle of them to take with me. That brings me neatly to today’s Cigar. I bought a bundle of these from a lounge in New York City a while ago. I smoked almost 10 of them during my stay before grabbing a bundle to bring back with me. Also, these house rolls, that are only available in that cigar lounge in NYC, appeal to the collector in me that I discussed a while back. So naturally, I bought a fair few of them. I came home from the city with quite a few cigars (there were a lot of lounges, each had a house roll, I HAD to have at least a bundle of each) and these kinda got lost in the shuffle of new cigars. Today I’m going to smoke the first one out of that bundle, mainly cause I can’t remember what they were like.

So let’s get this thing going, shall we…

The size of this cigar is an American classification of Nub. This is a barber pole style 4x62rg cigar. The darker and lighter wrapper is interlaced around this short, fat cigar in a very attractive spiral pattern. The cigar is a little on the firm side but I cut the cap and a quick draw reveals a perfect draw. There are hints of mild tobacco and a touch of spice. There is a slight hay note as well, but that could just be the tobacco getting milder. I dig around for a while and eventually find my lighter. I need my triple jet for this stick, there is a lot of tobacco to toast. The heat from my lighter gets this going quickly and I take a draw. A dry bread flavour greets my pallet and there is a good dose of spice through the nose. The first rain of the wet season is beginning to fall, opening up the world to a chorus of heavy rain on a tin roof, thunder in the distance and frogs croaking away happily. It’s a pleasant combination. I settle in to listen to the storm and allow my mind to wander.

A conversation with my little sister back in 2012 hatched a plan for the pair of us to head to New York City for a few weeks to see some sights, meet some people and smoke a few cigars. 12 months later, we landed in JFK ready to take whatever the Big Apple could dish out. We stayed in Brooklyn with my Aunt and Uncle who had lived in the States for a little over 5 years. Considering the building they lived in was completely non-smoking, a restriction I had trouble fathoming, you can imagine my joy when I discovered a cigar lounge was only a short walk from the building. On our 2^nd night in the Big City I made plans to venture there for a smoke while the Little Sister and the Aunt went off to see a show. The lounge was called Diamantes. The place was small. Not much bigger than a standard living/dining room found in most (Australian) 3 bedroom houses. The floors were (very) distressed timber and creaked when you walked on them. The curtains of the place were always drawn and the light inside kept low. There was a big screen TV mounted above the bar and old battered chairs and couches against every wall. This was not one of the flashy, upper class cigar lounges that I’d expected to see in NYC. This was not a place where men in tailored suits sat around smoking their cigars and sipped 18 year old scotch. This was the kind of place that if a man in a tailored suit, carrying a bottle of 18 year old scotch, walked into the girl behind the counter would ask if they were lost. This was a blue collar cigar lounge. T-Shirts and jeans were the dress code and no-body cared what kind of shoes you wore or how much your watch cost. This is where the Brooklyn locals came to smoke. It was run down, dingy, and a bit of dive (In a classy way). In short, this was my kind of place.

The rain I still coming down and the cigar is burning away happily, the draw is still good and the burn is straight. If it’s one thing the Non Cuban cigars are good at, its consistent construction. The large girth of this cigar makes it interesting to smoke but the flavours are good. A toasted bread character with a good helping of spice through the nose, as was found in the opening of this cigar. There is a little cedar on the finish but it is very short, barely giving me time to enjoy it before it’s gone. It’s not a negative, just an interesting development.

I walked up to the counter that was manned by an attractive lady smoking a large torpedo and reading a book. I took a seat at the counter and she looked up at me. She welcomed me in the warm yet distant way that most New Yorkers do and I asked about the house rules. As soon as she heard my accent the (by now) familiar “you’re not from around here, huh?” came out. After getting that business out of the way I asked about a cigar. She pointed to the wall cabinet to my left that had around 15 open boxes in it. This was not a place that dealt in box sales. Here you grabbed a single stick, sat and smoked it. It was pretty laid back in its attitude. If you wanted to bring your own cigars you could (provided you pay the cut fee). You had to bring your own drinks and bringing your own booze was ok too (as long as you were prepared to pay the corkage and, if what you were drinking was unusual, share with the girl behind the counter). The lounge had a selection of good looking house rolls from the Dominican Republic, I selected one of those and the girl behind the counter (Dallas was her name) cut it for me and offered me a light. It turns out this place was owned by Joe Diamante, a Brooklyn local who had made a name for himself in sports broadcasting. He was one of the commentators for the home games of the local NBA team, The Brooklyn Nets, as well as being the ring announcer at some of the larger boxing matches both here and in Las Vegas. This place was his hobby business, started so that the people in his neighbourhood didn’t have to travel all the way to Manhattan in order to enjoy a cigar. The store rarely turned a profit, but the rent was low (for New York) and they managed to keep the overheads down by not really repairing the place or trying to make it more upmarket than it needed to be. This all added to its “back room charm” (as my sister called it). I spent quite a bit of time in Diamanties during my stay in the Big Apple. Any nights where we didn’t have anything planned from 10pm til Midnight I’d grab my lighter and head over for a smoke. This place was frequented by the whole range of people NYC had to offer. Everyone from blue collar construction guys to bus drivers to Wall Street bankers (local lads who had made something of themselves). Everyone was dressed casually, helping to disguise the sometimes significant differences in income. This was an everyman’s lounge. Leave your “I’m better than you” attitude at the door, sit down and have a cigar. Through the ribbons of smoke, we were all on the same level.

This short cigar is well under way. Its burning slower than you would think a cigar of this length would, I guess its 62rg is slowing things down a little. The bread and pepper from the first third has morphed into a sweet cake character on the pallet and a slightly milder baking spice through the nose. It’s medium bodied and very pleasant to smoke as the storm continues. The finish is still on the short side and the cedar character is there, but only barely.

On the day before heading home I ventured back to Diamanties to say goodbye to Dallas and the gang and grab a few of the house rolls I’d been smoking every time I walked in there. I was sitting at the bar when the door opened and in walked an elderly gentleman. I say elderly as he looked to be in his late 80’s. He shuffled across the floor, never really picking his feet up, panning his head from left to right in at an even speed, taking in the surroundings and making note of new faces. His hands were in his pockets and his was hunched low. It was not the hunch of an old man with a bad back, more of an aggressive stance. I know it sounds unusual, and 80 something year old man walking with an air of violence around him, but that’s what it was. He shuffled up to the bar where Dallas greeted him warmly, even giving him a kiss on the cheek. Leo was his name. Dallas told me that every afternoon at around the same time Leo would pop in for a cigar and some peace and quiet from his missus. Leo moved over to a chair close to the bar and moved it so his back was against the wall and he could get a good view of the door and the rest of the lounge. Dallas and I had discussed my interest in people and the stories they have to tell. How everyone has a story to tell if someone was only prepared to listen to it. Hell, the main reason I came to NYC was to hear the stories this great city had to share. She turns to me and says “you should talk to Leo, he has some pretty interesting stories to tell about this city, give him this, it’ll get you through the ice”. She hands me a robusto house roll. I walk over to Leo and introduce myself. He picks up on my accent and says “Aussie, huh? How you doin?” His accent is heavy New Yorker. I hand him the cigar and sit opposite him. His looks me over and I feel like I’m being appraised by him. He eyes seem to penetrate me; as if I am a question he’s trying to formulate an answer too. I tell him that Dallas thinks you might have a story to tell and he looks to her. She smiles and says “he’s ok, Leo. Nice kid just wanting to know your history. I told him it was worth listening to”. He smiles and cuts the cigar I handed to him. “I see Dallas told you how to get on my good side, eh?” He laughs, it’s loud and boisterous. There is a gleam in his eye as he looks me over again. “So, you wanna know about this city?” “Yes sir, I’m told you have quite a story to tell”.

As the cigar moves through to its final third, it offers me more of the same profile as its previous acts. Sweet bread and baking spices. There is a little black coffee and the cedar on the finish has a smoked character to it now. The profile kinda reminds me of a Diplomatico I smoked a little while back. While not complex, the cigar is very enjoyable. The burn has remained perfect and, if I had chosen, I could have come to this point without having to ash it once. The construction is spot on.

Leo was born and raised in Brooklyn. He’d lived in NYC for most of his life except for a few years he was in Las Vegas for “business”. We talk of old New York. Of the way “his city” used to be (before a cup of Coffee cost $2 and a 2 bedroom apartment cost $2 Million). Leo was a man with an interesting past. He started working for the Gambino Family in the late 50’s. “Doing this, doing that” as he put it. The 50’s were an interesting time for the Big Apple. The Hudson was being dragged on a weekly basis for missing people and the business of Loan Sharking and Prostitution were good money makers for anyone ready to “bend the law a little” and who was “not afraid to get his hands dirty”. He worked his way up through the family, doing “whatever needed to be done” both here and during the infamous days of Mob run Casinos in Las Vegas and was a “Made Man” by the time he was 30. Hearing him vaguely talk of his past, and the things he’d seen and done, I got a feeling it was not bullshit. There was a genuine tone to his voice and a look in his eye that told me this was not a man who would spin stories to impress some young punk from Australia. We discussed the business of Las Vegas during the early 80’s, the infamous line from Casino “I’ve got a meeting to go to. Go and dig a hole out in the dessert” (that got a laugh from him). He talked of old friends, some of whom died working for “The Family”, some who just dropped off the face of the earth and some who, like him, were lucky and got out when they saw things coming to an end, allowed to retire in relative piece. He talks of sleeping with a gun under his pillow and keeping a baseball bat in the trunk of his car (but never of occasions where he had to use either). He talks of the fall of the infamous John Gotti in the early 90’s, and the power vacuum it left behind. How The Family crumbled. I sit there and listen intently. He tells me he retired shortly after Gotti went down and moved back to his old neighbourhood with his wife of (now) 52 years. “I mean, after that, what was I gonna do? Wait around for someone to walk in and take me over? Forgtabouit!” he says. Leo looks at his cigar, it’s pretty much done. He places it in the ashtray and gets up to say goodbye to Dallas. I stand and extend my hand, “thank you for the conversation”. He smiles at me and shakes my hand, “thanks for the smoke, kid, you’re alright” and then shuffles out the door.

This Nub is coming to a close. It’s gotten hot and a little harsh. I put it down to let it burn itself out. As I’ve said, the Non Cuban cigar market is good at a lot of things, blending complex cigars is not one of them. I’m not saying that is a bad thing. There are days when you want a cigar that is easy to smoke and doesn’t challenge you. Something you can sit back and smoke and at the end of it not be able to draw any specific flavours from it the next day, you just say to yourself that it was a good smoke. That is the category this cigar fits into. It’s not a bad cigar, just a simple cigar. As the cigar smoulders I’m taken back to the greatest city in the world. The great lounges I saw there and the people I sat with. Every one of them had a story to tell. The idea of sitting down with a stranger and discussing life and love is not something that is common these days, but the love of tobacco and the level playing field of a comfortable chair and a good cigar opens us up to new people and the things that helped to shape their lives. There is a reason fans of quality tobacco are referred to as Brothers Of The Leaf. The love of Tobacco is a brotherhood. The places where all gather to share cigars and stories only help to strengthen that brotherhood and that, my friends, is the magic of a great Cigar Store and the sticks they stock their shelves with.

[habanolover]

Very nice review/ story...and amen...

[Munts]

Great review. I love your review style.

[bolivr]

Excellent story. Great to read it. Thank you

[CaptainQuintero]

I love these reviews, keep them up my friend!