Perique has a long tradition in St. James Parish, a town with a rich history tied to a unique and specifically cultivated product. Kentucky is practically synonymous with bourbon, with a deep heritage tied to who, how, and why this famously iconic spirit is made. Perhaps that is why we are drawn to others who have maintained their dedication to a craft, even when the rest of the world has seemingly moved on in favor of quicker production.  

 We understand that the magic behind the process of making bourbon comes from the time required. The seemingly simple process involves a mash being put in a humble barrel crafted of white oak and left to age in the pure Kentucky air for upwards of 23 years.  Barrel fermentation requires a similar patience and a similarly singular dedication to an individual process. In the case of our Pappy Van Winkle Barrel Fermented cigars, this calls upon the perique tradition.   The perique tradition is at risk of disappearing due to its labor-intensive nature, but our partner, Mark Ryan, of L.A. Poche Perique Tobacco Farm in Convent, St. James Parish, Louisiana, is intent on continuing. 

Tucked deep within the historical river parishes of Louisiana, nestled between New Orleans and Baton Rouge, St. James Parrish is one of the state's 19 original parishes. Founded by French settlers, the Acadians, who arrived in the area in 1764, it is still widely recognized for its many French influences and traditions. The most notable is Bonfires on the Levee, where bonfires are burned along the Mississippi River on Christmas Eve, as lore goes so that Papa Noel can find his way to the children in the community. 

Of course, of equal note, St. James Parish is the only site in the world where perique tobacco was cultivated and the only site where the perique fermentation process is continued today. Introduced by Acadian settler Pierre Chenet, more commonly known by his nickname, Perique, the tradition lives on today thanks to the work of L.A. Poche. Run by our partner and friend, Mark Ryan, he considers himself merely a conduit for the continuation of this tradition. 

While those in the know regard him as somewhat of the god-father or savior of this technique, he would humbly disagree. More likely, he would regale you with such a deeply understood and passionate understanding of the history, tradition, and ritual behind it that you become lost in how he reflects the beauty of the process, and well, that is precisely how he would want it.  His goal is not to save a dying practice but to highlight the sheer magnitude of its importance to a cultural whole in the first place. Honestly, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better champion anywhere else. He talks about it as if talking about a beloved friend or family member. Passionate but sincere, it’s impossible not to be transfixed by his narrative prowess and innate appreciation for tradition.

We recently visited the barn on-site where he continues this age-old tradition, and were fortunate to watch the magic in action. It may be strange to describe an old barn, full of the scent of fire-cured tobacco, with giant cranks positioned over retired bourbon barrels still sticky with the remnants of the recently released bourbon, as beautiful. Yet that is the word that came to mind when we walked in.   

 Just as we described the Drew Estate cigar factory in Estelí, Nicaragua, which we visited last Spring, as watching a choreographed dance, we were also struck by the inherently rhythmic process of the perique tradition. Each step is deeply rooted in old-fashioned processes, and the craftsman is fluidly in tune with the quiet instruction being whispered by touch and feel from generations before. It should be sensory overload, the intermingling of the lingering notes of bourbon, the unmistakable sensation of fire-cured tobacco, and the old barn that has survived years of Louisiana’s notoriously sticky summer heat, but somehow, it isn’t. 

Once the tobacco has been harvested and fire-cured, it arrives in bundles at L.A. Poche, where their time-honored work can begin. Witnessing each step in action, we can certainly appreciate why this hugely laborious and time-intensive process isn’t more commonly done. The leaves are hand-stripped, tied in bundles, and carefully rehydrated in a gentle bath before being packed into the retired Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon Barrels.  Carefully layered and pressed into the retired Pappy Van Winkle barrels, the work begins. 

The perique process requires extremely high pressure, achieved first with teams of two men working with a rail road jack. Each man takes turns, with a physicality that is both graceful and intensely powerful, jumping, pulling, and leveraging his body weight to pull the heavy lever down. Once charged, a screw jack is attached to the barrel head to maintain the amount of pressure needed to begin fermentation. 

As pressure increases, initial juices will emerge, bubbling through the age-worn barrels and signaling, with their presence, that fermentation has begun. The pressure is checked for accuracy during active fermentation, and the heavily layered tobacco leaves are left, just as the bourbon was once cradled within the oak walls of the barrel, to ferment with only time as its aid.  Each barrel will sit massive under its own weight and that of the roughly 500 pounds of tightly packed fire-cured tobacco leaves for at least a year. 

The secrets of the perique process are shared only within the walls of the retired barrels as the tobacco ferments and soaks in the remnants of Pappy Van Winkle flavor, taking on the signature notes of charred cedar, vanilla, chocolate, and smoky sweetness. Once complete, the tobacco is removed from the barrel and, understandably, has turned into a pressurized block of leaves. Worked by hand, the leaves are manually separated, in yet another labor-intensive step, from the fermented and sealed block.

Once the fermented leaves are removed, the heritage and tradition built into each step are abundantly evident. You can see it and most certainly smell it—the instantly recognizable notes of molasses, sweetness, and smokiness that still linger from the fire-curing.  The leaves are again carefully layered in the barrels, charged, capped, and finally sent to their final step, where they will be hand-rolled by Drew Estate in Estelí, Nicaragua, through an equally painstaking and tradition-filled process of craftsmanship and skill. 

Nothing about this is simple. Hard work and physical labor require an adherence to old-fashioned techniques and a final recognition that time is a necessary resource. Yet just as Pappy himself insisted that “only time and good old-fashioned know-how,” along with a refusal to consider shortcuts and the policy that “no chemists” are allowed in the making of whiskey, will result in a one-of-a-kind bourbon with unmatched flavor and quality, so too is the dedication to the perique process.  

 Just as Pappy Van Winkle bourbon results from an old-fashioned sour mash, an oak barrel, pure Kentucky water and air, and time, we are equally as amazed at “what natural tobacco and natural processes” can do for our cigars.   After all, cigars are constructed in layers. The filler, the binder, and the wrapper are the technical components, but more than that, the cigar-making experience is a multi-layered one. One that, specifically for our Pappy Van Winkle Barrel Fermented cigars, requires quite a journey, with multiple steps, multiple people, and quite a lot of old-fashioned know-how, expertise, and passion from the absolute best in the business. As Pappy himself would have promised, only through a purity of ingredients and processes can you achieve a result unlike anything else.