QUINTESSENTIALLY | Insider | 2011 October

“A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke”
- Rudyard Kipling, The Betrothed 1886

Pushing open the large, black door of Ten Manchester Street, I feel self-conscious. I’m early. The woman at reception smiles kindly and leads me past the bar. Walking through the restaurant, we enter a little oasis tucked around the back, where a few refined individuals puff discreetly on their cigars. The terrace is both stylish and secluded and, I’m relieved to find, blissfully warm. The waitress whispers to me that they have people smoking here even when it’s snowing outside. I wonder why she’s talking so softly. I suppose she doesn’t want to break the serene atmosphere.

One after the other women slowly arrive, some look apprehensive. We perch on the seats, not entirely sure of the format, everyone waiting for something to happen. A man arrives. The tutorial begins.

I listen attentively, admittedly to try and hide my woeful ignorance. I’m ashamed to say that I know nothing about cigars. I eye my cutter warily; I’ve always been accident-prone. A thought enters my head about taking it home to threaten my boyfriend with. Then again, it’s probably not the best way to secure a proposal…

To their credit, the Hunters and Frankau Cigar specialists know their stuff, introducing the hotel’s vast selection of cigars and patiently explaining how the custom-made Hunters & Frankau humidor works. They were even gracious enough not to raise an eyebrow when one woman asked which end to suck. They’d probably come prepared for the worst. “An evening of cocktails and light cigars catering specifically us ladies.” Deep breath.

As I finally light my cigar and bring it to my lips, I instantly know that it’s a mistake. I’ve never even smoked as much as a cigarette before tonight. Spluttering after my first gulp, I tell myself not to worry, that it’s just the initial drag. After the second, I stifle a cough and my eyes begin to water. The puff of smoke surrounding me begins to dissolve and a tanned, mustached face fades into focus.

“So, you like it?” The Cuban demands, flashing a hint of gold as he smiles expectantly.

“Delightful,” I reply, as the lady next to me tries to suppress a snigger. Any more of this and I’m certain I’ll be sick. This is not going well.

I decide to change tactics and start engaging the women around me in conversation, leaving my cigar to slowly burn. Thinking that the others here would all be first-timers such as myself, I’m surprised to discover several of them are real cigar aficionados. As we nibble our canapés of mini fish and chips and drink our delicious Pinky vodka cocktails, I learn that one is a fashion designer whilst another is the director of an advertising agency. These women are sophisticated and successful, and they relish the opportunity to be here in this little haven away from the men who normally dominated this world.

Looking around at this glamorous scene I smile to myself. Rudyard Kipling would have been delighted. No longer the difficult choice between woman and cigar, earthly love and smoky lust. Instead, there’s a room full of women sucking sensuously on a premium vintage, with a cocktail in hand and air of nonchalance surrounding them. With the exception, that is, of myself. I look down to find my cigar has gone out. I think it’ll be a while before any cigar-toting men whisk me off my feet. Maybe I will take that cutter home after all…

The Ladies Cigar Evening runs monthly.
From 6.30 p.m. – 9.00 p.m.
£30 per person

www.tenmanchesterstreethotel.com