BE L GRAVI A RE S I DE NT S J OURNA L 017

THE TSAR OF CIGARS

Edward Sahakians name has been synonymous with some of the
greatest tobacco to grace central London for a long time; the
Belgravia Residents Journal goes to see if his life-story is as good...
Belgravian
The
Words / Henry Hopwood-Phillips
Illustration / Russ Tudor
A
s I try to put Edward at ease in my company at the
Bulgari Hotel bar I recount how I managed to smoke
myself into some sort of tobacco-based purgatory in
Prague after a grand total of ve Romeo y Julieta cigars on a
stomach harbouring little but caffeine tablets. I had a similar
experience, Edward recalls, I keep my sigh of relief silent. I was
doing an early morning photo-shoot before breakfast and the
team couldnt get the right photo until Id gone through a box
of cigars. I had to go and have a few moments in the restroom.
A few cigars later they nally got the one they wanted!
As a young Armenian in Iran with three family-run
breweries ticking over, Edwards only tie to Britain was
the fact a few of its teachers ran an English-speaking
school his children attended. Soon the school was
closed down and we realised things in the country were
going wrong, so we left on what we thought would be a
temporary basis, Edward explains.
It was while spending Christmas in the UK that
Edward and his family found
out that a mob of about 20,000
had smashed up the cinemas,
nightclubs and breweries in
Iran; friends warned them not to
return for a while. So we realised
we had to keep the kids in school
here. I still remember getting Eddie, my son, into Hill
House by waiting, unsolicited, one morning outside the
Colonels ofce, Edward laughs.
The story continues dramatically with the Shahs
expulsion from Iran and Edwards introduction to a
young solicitor who waived payment for advising him
on his UK residency. I implored him to a spot of lunch
instead and when the cigars came round he asked me
what I was going to do if I couldnt go back. It was like a
sledgehammer to the system. I told him it was unthinkable
but after reecting I said cigars would be a good start.
The solicitor [now a good friend] then sent letters
off to his rms counterparts in Geneva to sound out
Davidoffs attitude to a new potential London branch.
Im afraid they dont do franchises was the response.
I hadnt pressed the matter in the rst place, so I didnt
mind Edward recalls. Fast-forward a few months however,
and through a mixture of obstinacy and charm, Edward is
signing contracts with the President of Davidoff.
But that was only half the battle. The most beautiful
shop on Jermyn Street was vacant but we couldnt get
it, Edward tells me. What followed was a byzantine
correspondence between Edward and the Algerian
government. They clearly didnt know they had the
property because later I saw two men surveying it with
orders to sell. So I took their card and snapped it up!
I enquire about the Bulgari cigar lounge we are
pufng away in. This is only two years old, Edward
begins. You know you are not allowed to smoke indoors
unless youre in prison or a shops specialised room whose
turnover is more than 50% cigars. Its like chocolate or
cheese, most people dont want to buy until theyve tried it.
I ask whether Edward has any advice for beginners.
Always go for a mild, well-balanced cigar rst. Not too
big, nor too fat, even though these things may be the
fashion. I nod; everybody is choking on their Robustos
these days. Even I nd that too much sometimes. Also,
avoid smoking on an empty stomach, he adds a mutual
smile ashes across our faces at the hypocrisy.
Has Edward ever had a bad cigar? Yes. Six of
them, comes his immediate reply. You can usually tell
whether you wont like a cigar just by smelling it; you
should listen to your nose.
Pushing him on to more controversial territory I ask
where he stands on the opinion that the best cigars are made
only in Cuba. Cuba is a long
slim island, it is indisputable that
some of the best are made in the
western part called Pino del Rio,
but neighbouring regions such
as the Dominican Republic and
Nicaragua certainly compete in the
same league. Though I personally think places like Honduras
are second or third rate as the tobacco is badly rolled and
pressed but with a cigar the price usually indicates its quality.
The best things in life are the most expensive!
As my ddle with my own Corona in my mouth I
admit that sometimes my lips go tingly when Im smoking
smaller cigars. Am I doing something wrong? You have
to be careful with a smaller ring gauge, the heat is more
concentrated. It is like eating an ice-cream too quickly and
it goes through your nose into your skull.
I also like to get my moneys worth and smoke to my
ngertips. I put it to Edward that Im either a disgrace to
humanity or a connoisseur. Chuckling, he remarks me too!
The last part of the cigar is the best bit. The way the tobacco is
rolled means that the head is where all the oils and avours lie.
But we risk missing the point here. A cigar is a very
simple pleasure. Here is what you should do. First ask those
around you whether they mind you smoking; a cigar-smoker
should always be a gentleman. Second, unwind, feel your
blood pressure become lower, your heart beat slower,
everything last longer, your edges become lost and everything
is good, Edward soothes. If cigars were a religion, Edward
would clearly be their high priest. His proselytism is
effortless. But am I converted? All I will say is I leave with
boxes, not single sticks of the things.
(bulgarihotels.com)
The best things in life are
the most expensive!