My Goodness ... My Bachilleres

I had to think long and hard before going out to smoke tonight ... reason being, it's a cold, dark night in Wellington. A southerly is blowing straight up from the frigid bowels of Antarctica, and relentless roar of the waves pounding the harbour shores is interrupted only by the occasional bout of hail on the tin roof. Charming. I pick out a cigar, then on reflection, I substitute it for one half its size. Time to head out onto the deck, silently thanking the good Lord for the hill sheltering our house.

The object of my attention is a Sancho Panza Bachilleres, one of a dozen obtained for my cigar club (box date unknown but this looks like a circa 2000 vintage). I've just realised the irony of this choice considering that my wife and baby have just landed in Heathrow - bachelor, indeed! (albeit in another sense of the english term)

Pre-light: the wrapper is odourless and rustic but an agreeable shade of brown. The cigar feels tightly rolled, especially at the head. A quick draw confirms this tight-arsedness, as well as, appropriately, a hint of sheep dung and earth. I nestle it close, as much for the warmth as anything else, and fire it up.

From the get-go this lil' feller proclaims his intentions loud and clear - a big dose of cedar and some leather, a touch of white pepper spiciness through the nose, and a trademark underlying body of salty earth. Altogether encouraging, and as a taste package, somehow comforting. I lean forward to avoid the latest bout of hail and massage out the knot at the head of the cigar with a degree of success.

Coming into the second third, and a dose of herbal remedies livens things up - the pepper has turned green and the smoke has developed a grassy quality to it. What I presume to be ligero is showing its colours somewhat, without dramatically altering the main body. Somewhere after the halfway mark there is a marked shift towards a hearty meal - as if someone had just pulled a shepherd's pie out of the oven, it becomes all meaty, yes we are talking mincemeat here (lamb mince to be precise!) mixed in with a hint of sheep dung and liver - haggis anyone? An ever so slight sweetness, which may have been present in lesser quantities at the start, is now developing around the edges with a cinnamon-like quality. There is a sudden injection of charred paper - ah yes, that would be the band burning, get it off, you twit - but apart from that it remains pretty much the same until the nub. In sum, a core melody of cedar, leather, salt, earth all the way through; and ligero grassiness tuning in but quickly replaced by the hearty meatiness of an honest man's meal.

I must say I was surprised to really enjoy this cigar, it was unexpectedly complex (which for me confirms my decade old hypothesis), and it lasted a decent while too as it was packed to the gunnels with tobacco. I would give it an A verging on A+ or a solid 8.5 out of 10: given the prevailing conditions, it did everything that was asked of it; but then trumped that with surprising complexity and evolution of flavour. Of greater note in the annals of cigar smoking - or at least, the irish ones - is that it's the first cigar i've really enjoyed combined with Guinness. The creaminess and slight bitterness of the latter married well with the salt, meatiness, and general un-fruitiness of the Bachilleres. I've had both separately before, but in combination, it was my revelation of the night. Now, time to get off to bed and enjoy the other bit of my newfound, temporary,bachelorhood: sleeping in without a child to wake me up three times in the night and then once and for all at 5am. Yippee !!



25-40mn smoke.
Size: Franciscano (yes like the monks)
Length 11.6cm. Ring gauge 40.
Strength: Medium-bodied
Drink match: anything. but Guinness is good for you.
Box date unknown.

Brand info:
Named after the rustic squire to Don Quixote in Miguel de Cervantes' famous 1605 novel of the same name, this very old brand was originated by Emilio Ahmsted in 1848. It is much admired for the larger sizes in its range, including the enormous Sanchos (23.5cm x 47!)

[Sancho acts as squire to Don Quixote, and provides comments throughout the novel, known as sanchismos, that are a combination of broad humour, ironic Spanish proverbs, and earthy wit. "Panza" means 'belly']