I was just thinking this morning that I should post about cigars and then this Boston Globe article came out... Perfect timing!
I grew up in a cigar-smoking house. It wasn't every day or every night, more just every so often my father indulges. My great-grandfather Popoo loved his cigars, my grandfather Poppy loved pipes, and my uncles, cousin, and fiancee and future brother in law both love the occasional puff. But none so much as my father.
I find the smell of cigars comforting. It used to fill up our entire house, even with candles burning or windows open. Now, I will walk downwind of an outdoor cigar smoker as I see other people wrinkling their noses trying to get out of the way.
I understand some people prefer to stay out of smoke-filled dark bars. That's totes ok. Don't go to them. Cigar bars are a dying breed, especially in progressively-minded Boston (and I don't fault the city's public health officials for their views at all). But think about it. The only people who would want to work in a cigar bar are people who don't mind cigar smoke. Boston has SOOOOOO many bars. So many bars that I am often enthralled why people would wait in line at one bar when the one next door is ready for business. But that's another blog entry. Cigar bars are so few and far between that people cannot say that that specific bar job was the only one they could find and are unhappy being subjected to cigar smoke all day. I've been to these bars and their wait staff are knowledgeable about both cigars and booze - they're a well-cultivated crew focused on the clients and their fondness for stogies. I seriously considered getting a job at a cigar bar (the tips must be incredible) before finding Zinnia.
And honestly, I would love to find a cigar-friendly wedding reception venue... Or just host the rehearsal dinner in my parents' backyard. Because goodness knows there will be a LOT of cigars passed around that weekend.
My dad even had a special cigar - a Cuban that he got while visiting me in London almost five years ago. He told me last summer about it; that he was saving it for the day I became engaged.
On Saturday morning, I gave him the go-ahead to light up.
I, for one, would miss cigar bars if they leave the city of Boston. I understand the risks of spending long periods of time and
I grew up in a cigar-smoking house. It wasn't every day or every night, more just every so often my father indulges. My great-grandfather Popoo loved his cigars, my grandfather Poppy loved pipes, and my uncles, cousin, and fiancee and future brother in law both love the occasional puff. But none so much as my father.
I find the smell of cigars comforting. It used to fill up our entire house, even with candles burning or windows open. Now, I will walk downwind of an outdoor cigar smoker as I see other people wrinkling their noses trying to get out of the way.
I understand some people prefer to stay out of smoke-filled dark bars. That's totes ok. Don't go to them. Cigar bars are a dying breed, especially in progressively-minded Boston (and I don't fault the city's public health officials for their views at all). But think about it. The only people who would want to work in a cigar bar are people who don't mind cigar smoke. Boston has SOOOOOO many bars. So many bars that I am often enthralled why people would wait in line at one bar when the one next door is ready for business. But that's another blog entry. Cigar bars are so few and far between that people cannot say that that specific bar job was the only one they could find and are unhappy being subjected to cigar smoke all day. I've been to these bars and their wait staff are knowledgeable about both cigars and booze - they're a well-cultivated crew focused on the clients and their fondness for stogies. I seriously considered getting a job at a cigar bar (the tips must be incredible) before finding Zinnia.
And honestly, I would love to find a cigar-friendly wedding reception venue... Or just host the rehearsal dinner in my parents' backyard. Because goodness knows there will be a LOT of cigars passed around that weekend.
My dad even had a special cigar - a Cuban that he got while visiting me in London almost five years ago. He told me last summer about it; that he was saving it for the day I became engaged.
On Saturday morning, I gave him the go-ahead to light up.
I, for one, would miss cigar bars if they leave the city of Boston. I understand the risks of spending long periods of time and
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