Open Wide and Say "Omar"

Last week I scurried on down to my local cigar shop and settled into the lizard lounge with a huge, bandless and rather course-looking fat boy known as the Omar Ortez Original. Talk about big: This thing was 54-ring thick and at least six inches long. Which meant, I really should have been a sumo wrestler with cheeks the size of grapefruit to properly draw this baby down.

Somehow I managed to smoke this gentle bomber to the last 1.5 inches, and was surprised at its overall mildness, coupled with its brute physiological impact. Like that 4th shot of Tequila, you don't really know the mess you've gotten yourself into until it's too late. Maybe it had something to do with smoking on an empty stomach, but within 30 minutes I was a quivering mass of overelectrified jellyfish. Note to self: Eat a meal next time.

The flavor? A bit too thin for my taste, although quite creamy. In the second half the body picked up, with a warm doughy center rising to the fore. I was really starting to like it just before I put it out. But that's a lot of cigar to wade through just to find a sweet spot at the end of the line. Oops, party over, out of time. Huh?

I see no need to purchase an Omar again. It lacked the strong flavor and body I desire in a smoke, despite the nicotine kick (which is not really what I'm looking for). In fact if someone could just take the pesky nicotine out of cigars, and keep all the flavor and nuance, I'd actually prefer it. But that's just me. I'm sure others must enjoy the sweaty palms, elevated blood pressure, and jittery restlessness that I naively consider an unfortunate side effect of strong cigars, which are the only cigars I find truly tasty, sensually satisfying and freeingly fulsome, alliterative bastard that I am.

Again, the Omar was not powerful-tasting, just ass-kicking in the physiological sense. But it was obviously a quality cigar with a nuanced flavor leaning towards peppery. I could see how others might be intrigued by it.