In Mac Baren’s Secret Service
    April 30th, 2014

E. Roberts
The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success.
In the high-stakes, cloak and dagger world of tobacco blending, it’s the one who holds the most secrets who has the hand to beat when the cards are laid out on the table. After the smoke clears and the dust settles, it’s the dashing fellow in the three-piece suit that walks away with the self-satisfied grin, calmly extracting a classic black billiard—Dunhill, of course—from his breast pocket, filled to the brim with a luscious ebony flake. The aroma it exudes is exotic and flirtatious, perfectly balanced on the precipice of sweet, overlooking the valley of mystery below. Content that his adversaries are thoroughly vanquished, he climbs into his bespoke Aston Martin Centenary Edition and speeds away into the sunset, intent on blending another day …

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