The first thing we did after landing in Louisiana was find a po’boy. Kyle from the LA Cigar Collective had texted Eric asking him to bring a sandwich back to the shop, and “bring daddy a sandwich” instantly became the running joke of the trip. Then Eric got to the counter and had no idea how to order it. A local friend had told us to get it “dressed,” so he called the woman over and asked what that meant. (Lettuce, tomato, pickle, and mayo. We got there eventually.)
That was the start of the first Smoke and Steel pilgrimage. Eric, Eddie on the Streets, and I made the trip, and Episode 73 is what we recorded the next morning from the lounge with Kyle and Big Rob, in a room we’d only ever seen on video. Smoke and Steel usually happens in my garage, with cigars as the starting point and the conversation going wherever it wants. This time we brought it to Metairie, and it went the same way.
Table of Contents
A quick note before we get into it: LA Cigar Collective didn’t provide product or payment for this trip. The blind smoke and the Padróns we were handed came from viewers and from Bruce, who couldn’t make the trip.
A Lounge Built for Talking
Walking in was strange in a good way. We knew some sections from the videos, and others were a complete surprise, so Rob gave us a tour to fill in the gaps. It was about the size we expected.
What we kept coming back to was how people treated us and each other. Everyone who walked in the day before said hello, and plenty came over to talk. Kyle and Rob credit southern hospitality. Eddie told the story of a random guy with a gray beard who walked through. Eddie asked how he was doing, and the guy stopped, turned around, and said he was actually doing really well and thanks for asking. We’ve all been in lounges where everybody does their own thing, and a few of us were quick to say the Northeast is rougher around the edges. Kyle and Rob call the place the Cheers of cigar lounges, and the regulars have picked up the habit, so newcomers get welcomed even when Kyle and Rob are tied up in the humidor.
The layout does a lot of the work. The big seating areas have chairs facing each other, with a TV in the room but nobody staring at the back of someone’s head. That’s the opposite of the shops that line chairs along the walls or the lounges that feel like retail with a few seats added and a grab-and-go bodega vibe that says buy something and keep moving. LACC has a spot for every mood: the main lounge everybody calls the living room, a newer quiet room called the library, and a members lounge for anyone who doesn’t want to see people at all. That last one rarely gets used, because everybody would rather be out in the living room socializing.
Funny enough, a few of us admitted we can’t really taste a cigar in a busy lounge. If a cigar needs our full attention, it’s a night at home with music or a show. Eric started out social and now smokes alone during the week. The same goes for driving, with one hazard nobody warned us about: I once tossed a lighter on my seat while lighting up behind the wheel. The lighter stuck on and kept burning, and by the time I noticed the smell, the seat had a hole in it. The tasting notes, delivered by the rest of the table, were melted polyester.
A Blind Smoke and Two Padróns
Rob handed out gifts from viewers and friends. Jian, the king of the Hammer in the Discord, sent a Padrón 50th Anniversary Hammer Maduro, which Rob described as basically Kyle’s desert island cigar. Bruce sent a Padrón 60th for each of us. Jesse, who’s in both the Smoke and Steel and LACC Discords, sent a blind smoke.
The 60ths came in coffins, and they came home with us. Eric said he’d stare at his for a year. At roughly $75 a stick, it’s the kind of cigar that disappears the second it shows up, and the shop proved it the day before. A UPS truck pulled up with a delivery, Rob said the 60ths would be gone in five minutes, and he wasn’t exaggerating.
The blind smoke came with ground rules. Kyle and Rob knew what it was, we didn’t, and guesses were saved for the end. All Rob would say was that it was regular production, nothing hard to find. We picked up pepper, some sweetness, a rich body, and a little acidic bite. Guesses leaned Dominican with some Nicaraguan thrown in, and Eric kept rattling off cigars hoping for a hint. I had no idea what it was, but I liked it and would smoke it again. Kyle and Rob have an edge since they know what’s in their own inventory, and even they admit blind tastings are harder than they look.
It turned out to be the Lampert Ocean Breeze Robusto Grande, about $14. Kyle said the name made him expect salt, and he didn’t taste any. Jesse had a reason for choosing it: Eric had said on video that he wasn’t a big Lampert guy, so Jesse asked the shop to send it unbanded. Eric conceded on the spot that he was coming around.
The Hammer came out later in the episode, and it got a different reaction. The room agreed it was on another level from the Ocean Breeze, and the conversation turned to treating a $50 cigar with respect. Kyle’s caption for a cigar like this is “pissing excellence,” and Big Rob has started stealing it.
Le Flambeaux and the $18.50 Question
Rob started his 10 a.m. with LACC’s own Le Flambeaux No. 3, which he called a nice light way to start the morning. The filler is 60 percent ligero, so he was kidding, and so was the 45-minute smoke time he gave it.
Le Flambeaux is LACC’s third exclusive blend. According to the shop’s product page, they asked Klaas Kelner to build something full-bodied that pushed past what people expect from a Kelner blend. It’s made at Kelner Family Cigars in the Dominican Republic, in a Gran Toro (6.5 x 55) with a Mexican San Andres wrapper, Ecuadorian Habano binder, and Dominican filler. The name nods to the flambeaux carriers who lit Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans.
At $18.50, it’s also been a polarizing cigar. Our own take on it was mixed, and when Kyle searched it online, the AI summary said we’d spoken negatively about it, though the review he found was actually the mixed one. Kyle and Rob have heard the complaint that it’s too long, and customers have joked that it has outlasted some of their relationships. Their reasoning is that a Toro at this price would run $17 to $17.50, so another dollar buys a lot more smoking time. Kyle admits he was already insecure about the size because he doesn’t usually smoke cigars that big. A few of us think the sweet spot is a 52 ring and under, and the room laughed at the idea of a 70 by 70 in six months.
Inside the Collective Pack, and What Comes Next
A good chunk of the morning went to the Collective Pack, LACC’s monthly subscription. It’s capped at 140 spots and has been full for a while. Next up is a Collective Essentials tier at around $50 a month, built around mainstay cigars you can find over and over, which is where the budget crowd lives. Their under-$10 videos always do well.
Putting a pack together is a scramble. Kyle and Rob talk through each month about once a week, try to lock things down about a month ahead, and stay on the phone with brands chasing rare and limited cigars. The bigger the subscriber count, the harder the ask, since it’s easier to get a manufacturer to send 50 of something than 200. PCA made the point: several announced limited releases slipped past their dates the week before the pack shipped, and they had to pivot fast. They’ve also turned down brand takeovers, because a pack that’s one brand all month is just a sampler. For us as subscribers, the pack has opened some doors, and Principle came up as a brand more than one of us now loves because of it. I’ve double-bought a couple of times, Thunder Kiss for one, and I wasn’t mad about it.
The one cigar Kyle and Rob worried about was a cinnamon-heavy wild card that had Eric threatening to unsubscribe, though other subscribers fell in love with it.
The online side runs on speed and handwriting. Every order gets a handwritten note, no matter how busy the shop is, and boxes go out fast enough that people call 30 minutes after ordering to add something and find the package already gone. Bruce couldn’t make the trip, but he placed an order while we sat there, so Eric, Eddie, and I all filled out his personalized card. In a matter of minutes it was already packed and in the queue to go on the truck.
Online is now about half of LACC’s business, and inventory is the headache. The shop and the website pull from the same stock, so when someone buys 18 singles, the site shows singles sold out until somebody breaks a box down in the system. One of them checks inventory every night before bed so everything is available in the morning, and the shop now has a dedicated inventory employee and just hired two more people. The plan is to move online fulfillment into the empty building across the street once online hits 65 to 70 percent, and let the numbers decide when. They’re also moving away from a manager and employee hierarchy toward a team where people have specialties and cover for each other. One piece of advice stuck with them: a visitor to the shop told them to build down instead of chasing the next shiny thing. And Jenny, who does a little bit of everything, got a shout-out as the anchor.
Why the Discord Matters
Of everything we talked about, the Discord might be what’s hardest to explain to someone outside it. Our virtual lounge has topped out at ten people at one time. LACC’s can get upwards of 30. When someone at LACC is off and plans to smoke, they message a small group and hop in. Sometimes two or three people show up, and sometimes it pops to 30. When a member comes through town, the locals come over to hang out. Smaller sub-channels have formed so people can actually get a word in.
The relationships are real. Members have had babies, weddings, and a house that nearly burned down, and the whole group shows up for each other. When Rob’s grandmother passed a month ago, people bought things from the shop with notes addressed to him. When someone has a birthday, 30 people can chip in on a surprise. Eric had to tell our Discord members they don’t need to wait for one of us to be online before they jump in the virtual lounge and smoke together.
Eric used to make fun of people who had online friendships. Then he walked into the shop, and it felt like he’d known them for years.
That was the business part of the trip. It was day one and a half, and the first Smoke and Steel pilgrimage event at the shop was the next day. Eric, Eddie, and I were all nervous nobody would show up, but we know of at least three guys making the drive, so the autograph line was covered.
Stay in the Conversation
We had a great time sitting in that lounge, and we’d love for you to keep hanging out with us. New episodes come out weekly, the Discord is open, and there’s merch if you want to rep the show.
