In Bello’s Cigar Shop in Little Havana, I admire the largest cigar I have ever seen with the appreciative gaze of one who values a fine art, as a hand rolled cigar is clearly art, regardless of the size.
“Is it real?” a tour participant asks the tour guide. “Can you smoke it?” he pushes playfully as only an American can think to derive pleasure from the destruction of something that undoubtedly took days or weeks to create.
“Yes of course it’s real. They made it to smoke the day Fidel Castro died.” She said with a certain distaste as she spoke Castro’s name that was distinct even with her strong Siberian accented English. “When he died, they had a big celebration in the streets here in Little Havana. They took the cigar out to smoke it, but they didn’t smoke the whole thing. That’s too much!” She laughed, a clear twinkle of pride in her eye. “My husband is Cuban,” She explained.Read More