The interview at the Pittsfield Building on Wednesday ran a little over 90 minutes, from 9:30 a.m to just after 11. I didn't have to be at Siena Tavern for lunch until noon. That gave me almost an hour.
I walked a couple blocks south to Iwan Ries at 19 S. Wabash, on the second floor of the Adler & Sullivan-designed Jeweler's Building. Run by the fifth generation to own the company since its founding in 1857, Ries is the second oldest family-owned business in Chicago (the first being, surprisingly, Baird & Warner, founded in 1855).
Iwan Ries has a fancy BYOB cigar lounge, but that costs money to use. As it was, the stogie put me back $16 and change. It also has a little side room with a few chairs and ashtrays. That was good enough for me to sit and relax and read the newspaper for 20 minutes. They didn't have my go-to smoke, a Rocky Patel 1990 Vintage toro, so I took the recommendation of the clerk, Harry, and tried the Rocky Patel Number Six, which was delightfully smooth, so much so I bought a second for another day. I'm a creature of habit, so it's good to have an occasional reminder that being forced out of your rut sometimes has advantages.
The place is exactly as it always was. I tried to remember when I first came here, and couldn't. Over 30 years ago. As I left, I told Harry that it was nice to come across something that hasn't been ruined, yet.
"We never change," he said.
I walked a couple blocks south to Iwan Ries at 19 S. Wabash, on the second floor of the Adler & Sullivan-designed Jeweler's Building. Run by the fifth generation to own the company since its founding in 1857, Ries is the second oldest family-owned business in Chicago (the first being, surprisingly, Baird & Warner, founded in 1855).
Iwan Ries has a fancy BYOB cigar lounge, but that costs money to use. As it was, the stogie put me back $16 and change. It also has a little side room with a few chairs and ashtrays. That was good enough for me to sit and relax and read the newspaper for 20 minutes. They didn't have my go-to smoke, a Rocky Patel 1990 Vintage toro, so I took the recommendation of the clerk, Harry, and tried the Rocky Patel Number Six, which was delightfully smooth, so much so I bought a second for another day. I'm a creature of habit, so it's good to have an occasional reminder that being forced out of your rut sometimes has advantages.
The place is exactly as it always was. I tried to remember when I first came here, and couldn't. Over 30 years ago. As I left, I told Harry that it was nice to come across something that hasn't been ruined, yet.
"We never change," he said.
The title is line from the Rudyard Kipling poem, "The Betrothed."
I remember my roommate in my freshman year at Purdue, a guy from South Shore, taking me to Iwan Ries to buy a pipe and a pouch of Three Star Blue tobacco. That was 1967.
ReplyDelete"And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke."
ReplyDeleteFirst read that line maybe fifty years ago, in a piece about cigar smoking.
Never knew which Rudyard Kipling poem contained it. Have never seen it.
Until now.
Thanks, Mister S.
I have learned so much here.
And a man is lucky to have that "only a woman" for his own. She will be around a lot longer than that "good Cigar."
ReplyDeleteSmoking is disgusting, unhealthy and proven to cause cancer. I wish you'd stop writing articles glorifying smoking.
ReplyDeleteanon at 6:44 and 7:05 is right- How Mrs. S puts up with you is beyond me. Ha
DeleteI'm sure much of what is nevertheless true is beyond you; nothing to brag about.
DeleteLovely people work at Iwan Ries.
ReplyDeleteyes indeed.
ReplyDeleteDuring the many years I lived in Chicago I visited Iwan Ries regularly. It's like a time capsule of history in addition to being a great place to buy a cigar. My last vice is cigar smoking and it's beautiful. Here in St Louis I can go to the horse track on Tuesday afternoon and smoke a cigar and bet on the horses. It's heaven. Ok. I guess that's two vices.
ReplyDeleteWhen my dad, who died in 1976, would visit Chicago, there were places he always made sure to go. Henrici's for breakfast, the Berghoff for lunch. And Iwan Ries for his favorite pipe tobacco. I can't remember what it was called but it was sweet and delicious. I'm sure Dad would be glad to know the shop is still there.
ReplyDeleteI've always wanted to be a cigar guy...
ReplyDeleteMe too. I love the smell of a quality cigar when someone else is smoking it, but I just don’t like smoking them even though I smoked cigarettes for twenty years. It may be the only vice I didn’t like.
DeleteYears ago I wandered into a cigar shop in Cozumel Mexico. They had a picture on the wall of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara in combat fatigues smoking cigars on a golf course smiling and leaning on their golf clubs. Not a fan of either but it was a cool picture. I tried to buy it but he wanted like $100. For a black and white print in a crappy frame, no thanks. Now I kind of wish I would have bought it.
Thanks for sharing your secret spot.
ReplyDeleteFor many, many years Iwan Ries had the ground level retail space on Wabash. I want to say they moved up to the second floor sometime in the early 1980s? So in the late 1960s a friend of mine discovered that Iwan Ries would sell pipes and tobacco without checking ID's. The salesmen seemed oblivious regarding age. A 14-year-old kid sauntering in to buy a pouch of Middleton's Cherry Blend and "Bent Bulldog" briar didn't faze them at all. One day about four of us took the Northwestern train to the Loop and bought pipes and tobacco at Iwan Ries. We had a camp site in the woods back home at the end of Old Mill Road butting up against the tollway. It was on property owned by the Goldblatt family. We had permission to camp out there. (The Lincolnshire and Lake County police couldn't bother us on private property.) We spent the summer of 1970 smoking our Iwan Ries pipes around the camp fire before heading out at 1 a.m. to run around Lincolnshire and cause mischief. Golden years.
ReplyDeleteHelluva poem, with some wonderful, while obnoxious, lines.
ReplyDelete"With only a Suttee’s passion—to do their duty and burn."
Gotta say, though, looking up that word was quite disturbing. Cleverly applied to cigars, but what a metaphor!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sati_(practice)