One brand I hadn’t smoked in a while is Ferio Tego. So when I came across the Summa in a forum post, it caught my attention and pushed me to look into it further.
In the process, I came across an interview with Michael Herklots, where he said:
…I know A LOT of cigar makers… and NONE of the cigar makers, the blenders, the owners… and very few of them describe their cigars the way they are ultimately reviewed.1
That line hit hard.
Because when I sit down with a cigar, I’m not thinking about flavor notes, burn lines, strength, or body. I’m not cataloging transitions or scoring complexity. My experience is much simpler than that.
Do I enjoy it, or not?
That’s the first—and most important—question.
Now, if I’m writing a review, I’ll pay closer attention. I’ll try to identify what the cigar is doing, what flavors it presents, and how it evolves. But even then, those details are secondary. They don’t define the experience. They explain it.
Let me put a finer point on it: if you ask someone why they did or didn’t enjoy a cigar, their answer usually has nothing to do with how we’re taught to evaluate them.
You’ll hear things like:
“It just didn’t do it for me.”
“I don’t know… it felt off.”
“That one? I’d smoke it again.”
“That was a really good cigar.”
You’ll notice there’s no why in any of those answers, because for most smokers, the experience doesn’t need to be explained—it just needs to be felt.
When it comes to the why, Herklots put it plainly:
When it’s over, ask yourself or discuss with your pals whether you liked it or not, and decide if you would like to enjoy that cigar again some time [sic]. And once you’ve reached a conclusion, support it with “why.” That’s it. The end. Keep your hobby your hobby.
Take notes and reviews for your own reference, to remember why you liked or disliked a particular cigar. The reality is, if you enjoy cigars, you have a sophisticated palate. Don’t chase adjectives and descriptions that aren’t authentic to you… and don’t believe everything you read. Just cut, light, enjoy and repeat.
Simple. Almost uncomfortably so.
And yet, it runs counter to how most of us have been taught to think about cigars. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It just means there’s more to it.
Spend any amount of time reading reviews, and you start to pick up the language. Strength, body, transitions. Notes of cedar, cocoa, espresso. Construction, burn, draw. Scores, rankings, comparisons.
It’s a shared vocabulary.
And over time, it becomes the way we think we’re supposed to experience a cigar. So we start looking for those things. Listening for them. Trying to identify them as we smoke—not because they’re naturally there for us, but because we’ve been told they should be.
And because of that, expectation starts to shape the experience.
Before we even light a cigar, there’s a general sense of what it is, what it offers, and how it might unfold. Even without actively seeking it out, that awareness tends to exist—picked up through conversation, packaging, or the broader culture surrounding cigars.
And the moment the cigar is lit, there’s a quiet reference point in the background. A sense of what should be there. A subtle comparison between what’s happening and what was anticipated.
This isn’t unique to cigars. In sensory science, expectation is known to influence perception across taste, smell, and even texture.2 The brain doesn’t simply receive information—it interprets it, using prior knowledge as context.3
It’s something I spent time thinking about when I was writing about wine—trying to understand why a $1,000 bottle of Napa Cabernet could be perceived as better than an equivalently rated $100 bottle. In blind tastings, the lower-priced wine was often preferred.4
None of this suggests that language or expectation should be set aside. They’re part of the culture now. And they bring real value—connection, communication, and deeper engagement—for those who seek it. But it’s worth recognizing their presence.
Because once you’re aware of them, you can choose how much space they occupy in your experience. You can let them guide it, or you can let them sit in the background.
At its core, enjoying a cigar doesn’t require definition.
It doesn’t depend on identifying specific flavors or aligning with a particular description. It doesn’t need to be translated into anything beyond the experience itself.
It’s enough to simply have the moment.
And to let the cigar be part of it.
- Ferio Tego Interview with Michael Herklots, Cigar Press Magazine
- How expectation influences perception, MIT News
- How Your Brain Tricks You Into Thinking More Expensive Wine Tastes Better, Forbes
- Keep the Cheap Wine Flowing, Freakonomics
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