The Alec Bradley American Classic Blend offers a decent-looking and well-constructed corona, sized 5.5 x 42. I found it to be much stronger than advertised, but a little on the sharp side. Good draw, lots of body in the smoke, flavor fairly basic but better than expected for a Connecticut wrapped cigar. The taste leans towards the standard Fuente series, not the dreaded sheet-of-paper taste of many Connecticuts I've tried. It got rather peppery in the middle - a quality I enjoy.
Not an exciting or powerful cigar, but worth trying if you like medium strength and the Dominican cigar experience as a rule - with some black pepper thrown in. I'm not saying this is a Dominican cigar (I haven't read the specs) but it reminds me of many Dominicans I've had. I find it one-dimensional but it might be a dimension many smokers enjoy.
Showing posts with label Blah Cigars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blah Cigars. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, April 20, 2009
A Less-Than-Grand La Flor
The La Flor Dominicana Grand Maduro #6 is a dark, dusty maduro which fetches quite high prices and is positioned as one of the more exotic La Flor Dominicana blends.
However, it has no particular flavor characteristics to show for itself. Just a basic dark chalky flavor, with no sweeness or spice. Medium bodied, fine-burning and nice looking. A nice cigar to try once, but nothing to rave about.
I won it for 5 bucks on cigarbid and that's about all it's worth.
Similar in flavor to Montecristo Media Noche, Nestor Reserve Maduro, etc.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Blue Label Torpedo by Gran Habano
Not much to say about the Blue Label torpedo. I won a five-pack of these for 7 bucks on cigarbid. Now I know the reason why: It's a mediocre smoke.
It's a huge, elegant-looking torpedo, brown and rich-looking, impressive if you're into length and visual appeal. It lights easily, draws well, and produces a hefty volume of smoke. For some dudes, that would be enough.
Not for me. The flavor is a dull mixture faintly suggestive of cardboard, lemon peels, and old socks.
This is great cigar if you are drunk, playing golf, or otherwise not paying attention to your tastebuds. If you're sitting in a lounge chair, sipping a highball, and hoping for glorious epicurean relaxation, you're gonna be mighty disappointed.
Go get 'em, bargain hunters.
Remotely similar to:
5-Vegas (classic) torpedo.
Nestor Reserve Maduro torpedo
Montecristo Media Noche Edmundo
It's a huge, elegant-looking torpedo, brown and rich-looking, impressive if you're into length and visual appeal. It lights easily, draws well, and produces a hefty volume of smoke. For some dudes, that would be enough.
Not for me. The flavor is a dull mixture faintly suggestive of cardboard, lemon peels, and old socks.
This is great cigar if you are drunk, playing golf, or otherwise not paying attention to your tastebuds. If you're sitting in a lounge chair, sipping a highball, and hoping for glorious epicurean relaxation, you're gonna be mighty disappointed.
Go get 'em, bargain hunters.
Remotely similar to:
5-Vegas (classic) torpedo.
Nestor Reserve Maduro torpedo
Montecristo Media Noche Edmundo
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Dull, Dull, Dull: Partagas Spanish Rosado Rohito
In my quest to find the perfect short cigar, I stumble across some real dogs sometimes. The Partagas Spanish Rosado Rohito (4.5 by 50) is one such canine: A tightly wrapped, poor burning, weak-bodied, dull flavored dud of a sludge pole.
The short "Rohito" vitola is difficult to find online (if you're truly interested in buying one, try Bonita Smoke Shop) but my local cigar store happened to have a few.
The cigar looks invitingly brown, rough and beautiful. But the draw is so tight, and the consistency of the smoke so threadbare, that I barely stuck it through to midpoint. If I crunched down on it and closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was smoking a cigar. The best flavor characteristic I could discern in this strenuous manner was a hint of charcoal topped by a frisson of burnt onions. Not my idea of a connoisseur's delight.
I'd be curious to know if I'm the only one who dislikes this cigar. Maybe the other Partagas Spanish Rosado sizes are as good as the online reviewers say. I'm reluctant to take another chance.
The short "Rohito" vitola is difficult to find online (if you're truly interested in buying one, try Bonita Smoke Shop) but my local cigar store happened to have a few.
The cigar looks invitingly brown, rough and beautiful. But the draw is so tight, and the consistency of the smoke so threadbare, that I barely stuck it through to midpoint. If I crunched down on it and closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was smoking a cigar. The best flavor characteristic I could discern in this strenuous manner was a hint of charcoal topped by a frisson of burnt onions. Not my idea of a connoisseur's delight.
I'd be curious to know if I'm the only one who dislikes this cigar. Maybe the other Partagas Spanish Rosado sizes are as good as the online reviewers say. I'm reluctant to take another chance.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Complete Bust: Padilla Obsidian belicoso
A friend of mine swears by these black beauties, but also admits that every second or third cigar is rolled too tightly. This fellow has some kind of custom-formed wire doo-hickey to hollow out such cigars and make them smokable, but I'm in no such position.
My first Padilla Obsidian was rolled as tight as a rock. My tongue practically came loose from my throat trying to draw on this thing. I cut the cigar back and re-lit it twice, with no improvement, then gave up and threw the damned thing away.
My second Padilla Obsidian weighed little more than a feather, squeezed like a pillow and lit up like a charm. It drew cooly and excellently and tasted like... blah. Nothing. A chalky subdued charcoal flavor which was not unpleasant but quickly became boring. I put this one out at the mid-point.
I have one Padilla Obsidian left in my humidor. I'm guessing it's going to stay in there a long, long time because these little bastards have done nothing but disappoint me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on George W. Bush. Fool me three times? Uh...
I'll let you know how that one turns out. Someday.
My first Padilla Obsidian was rolled as tight as a rock. My tongue practically came loose from my throat trying to draw on this thing. I cut the cigar back and re-lit it twice, with no improvement, then gave up and threw the damned thing away.
My second Padilla Obsidian weighed little more than a feather, squeezed like a pillow and lit up like a charm. It drew cooly and excellently and tasted like... blah. Nothing. A chalky subdued charcoal flavor which was not unpleasant but quickly became boring. I put this one out at the mid-point.
I have one Padilla Obsidian left in my humidor. I'm guessing it's going to stay in there a long, long time because these little bastards have done nothing but disappoint me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on George W. Bush. Fool me three times? Uh...
I'll let you know how that one turns out. Someday.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Rocky OSG Torpedo: Mild and Incompetent
I've commented before on the pleasantly strong but disappointingly short-lived RP OSG corona.
Now for the Rocky Patel OSG torpedo, a mammoth-sized, brawny-looking stogie that would seem to be a bargain at the now reduced price of $39.95 per bundle of 18.
It's not. Unlike its little corona sister, the OSG torpedo is mild and undistinguished in flavor - better than a Dominican, maybe, but nowhere near Rocky's usual capacity for complexity and wonder. And, just like it's naughty little sister, the OSG torpedo loses steam at mid point, in this case suffering a complete breakdown in construction. On mine, the burn gradually tunnelled in towards the center and snuffed itself out. After snipping off and re-lighting, all I got was charcoal.
So: Weak flavor + improper construction = Dud cigar.
The entire OSG line was "a dog in the sales department" for a reason. This is simply a sub-paar line of cigars, with undependable construction and uneven blending from size to size. The coronas are a decent smoke for the first 2 inches. But stay away from the torpedos, no matter how tempting they might look in a low-bid auction situation. You will only be saving a buck to spite the smoker, i.e. yourself.
Now for the Rocky Patel OSG torpedo, a mammoth-sized, brawny-looking stogie that would seem to be a bargain at the now reduced price of $39.95 per bundle of 18.
It's not. Unlike its little corona sister, the OSG torpedo is mild and undistinguished in flavor - better than a Dominican, maybe, but nowhere near Rocky's usual capacity for complexity and wonder. And, just like it's naughty little sister, the OSG torpedo loses steam at mid point, in this case suffering a complete breakdown in construction. On mine, the burn gradually tunnelled in towards the center and snuffed itself out. After snipping off and re-lighting, all I got was charcoal.
So: Weak flavor + improper construction = Dud cigar.
The entire OSG line was "a dog in the sales department" for a reason. This is simply a sub-paar line of cigars, with undependable construction and uneven blending from size to size. The coronas are a decent smoke for the first 2 inches. But stay away from the torpedos, no matter how tempting they might look in a low-bid auction situation. You will only be saving a buck to spite the smoker, i.e. yourself.
Don Tomas Sun Grown Rubusto
In the cigar world, "You get what you pay for" is a statement that hardly ever rings true. Either you pay too much for a legendary brand that tastes like dog-breath, or you get surprised by a reviled no-name that tastes better than market leaders costing four times as much.
In the case of Don Tomas Sun Grown robusto, you really do get what you pay for: A cheap cigar that performs adequately (draw was a bit tight) and has a mild flavor appropriate for morning consumption.
Basically an uninteresting cigar. But this brand doesn't pretend to be anything else, and is priced accordingly. If you're devoted to cheap, mild cigars, go for it.
In the case of Don Tomas Sun Grown robusto, you really do get what you pay for: A cheap cigar that performs adequately (draw was a bit tight) and has a mild flavor appropriate for morning consumption.
Basically an uninteresting cigar. But this brand doesn't pretend to be anything else, and is priced accordingly. If you're devoted to cheap, mild cigars, go for it.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Another Montecristo Snorer
Two words regarding the Montecristo Media Noche Edmundo: DON'T BOTHER.
It draws well, burns well, and looks good in your hand. Fine, if that's all you care about in a cigar. Because despite its tantalizingly dark appearance, this super-fat robusto has absolutely no flavor. Not harsh, not bitter, not charcoaly, not burnt-toasty, not shockingly horrible. Just bland. Nothing.
I doused it out at midpoint. It wasn't going to get any better.
A long time ago I tried the Montecristo White, one of the world's wimpiest and most overrated cigars. And now that I've had its opposite, the supposedly high-powered Media Noche, I'll never smoke another one of these preposterously overpriced status symbols again. Don't even try giving me a Montecristo. I won't take it. Give it to your dog.
Two words to describe the whole line of non-Cuban Montecristos: BOR-ING.
Maybe the Cubans do it better. One can only hope.
It draws well, burns well, and looks good in your hand. Fine, if that's all you care about in a cigar. Because despite its tantalizingly dark appearance, this super-fat robusto has absolutely no flavor. Not harsh, not bitter, not charcoaly, not burnt-toasty, not shockingly horrible. Just bland. Nothing.
I doused it out at midpoint. It wasn't going to get any better.
A long time ago I tried the Montecristo White, one of the world's wimpiest and most overrated cigars. And now that I've had its opposite, the supposedly high-powered Media Noche, I'll never smoke another one of these preposterously overpriced status symbols again. Don't even try giving me a Montecristo. I won't take it. Give it to your dog.
Two words to describe the whole line of non-Cuban Montecristos: BOR-ING.
Maybe the Cubans do it better. One can only hope.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
El Rey of Reckoning
I recently visited my local cigar store and bought a robusto/maduro version of the El Rey del Mundo. Turns out I liked the little brother better. The fat robusto, while wrapped in an enticing white tissue paper that implied something extra special inside, smoked richly but without any special flavor. There was only the slightest, occasional hint of the mysterious powdery oriental spice that graces the pallet when smoking the lighter-shaded junior.
Not to misrepresent; it was a decent cigar, one that most aficionados would likely rave about. Just a bit plain... ash and pepper and barely perceptible cedar, like a hundred other cigars. I'm not giving up on the El Rey line just yet. I'll try another variety or two, to see if any of the fatter boys can deliver a punchier version of the elusive and funky junior.
Another factor to consider: Smoking in a crowded cigar lounge dampens the experience, no matter how good the stogie. The best way to do it is outside, on a warm and windless day. Stuck in a lounge, with the other lizards' lingering exhalations searing your nose, stinging your eyes, and turning your clothing into a hazmat disposal project, it's hard to convince yourself that the cigar you just paid 7 dollars for is the cat's pajamas.
Bring back those lazy, hazy crazy days of summer. My cigars are crying inside their humidor.
Not to misrepresent; it was a decent cigar, one that most aficionados would likely rave about. Just a bit plain... ash and pepper and barely perceptible cedar, like a hundred other cigars. I'm not giving up on the El Rey line just yet. I'll try another variety or two, to see if any of the fatter boys can deliver a punchier version of the elusive and funky junior.
Another factor to consider: Smoking in a crowded cigar lounge dampens the experience, no matter how good the stogie. The best way to do it is outside, on a warm and windless day. Stuck in a lounge, with the other lizards' lingering exhalations searing your nose, stinging your eyes, and turning your clothing into a hazmat disposal project, it's hard to convince yourself that the cigar you just paid 7 dollars for is the cat's pajamas.
Bring back those lazy, hazy crazy days of summer. My cigars are crying inside their humidor.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Don't Believe the Hype: Nestor Reserve Maduro
Review of Nestor Reserve Maduro Torpedo:
Recently I was able to get my greedy hands on a five-pack of Nestor Reserve Maduro torpedos for only 7 bucks in an online auction. Good thing too, because they're not worth a penny more.
The creative marketers at Cigars International certainly hype up these black beauties, using enticing phrases such as "chocolate thunder" and "rated 93 by Cigar Aficionado." Well, how long ago was that? 1998? And which size was it? Funny how the distributors are always vague about that, as if every size in the whole darned line won the super rating. Could you tell us, please? Pretty please? Cause this Nestor torpedo sure as hell doesn't rate a 93 today.
My first concern was that despite their enormous size, these torpedos weigh little more than a feather. Sometimes that's a good sign, as with Padrons, but usually it just means you're in for a cheap ride.
And cheap it was: I couldn't get this thing to light straight, and it never evened out. The smoke was ample and billowy, but had a nondescript taste. To paraphrase the late Lloyd Bentsen, I know chocolate. I've eaten chocolate. I'm friends with chocolate. And you, son, don't taste like chocolate.
But then again, what cigar ever does? I wish reviewers would quit using the word chocolate and come up with something more accurate like "dark, billowy, burnt-toasty flavor." That's about what it comes down to. Some people actually like burned toast. Why not let them know about it?
For a cheap cigar, the Nestor Reserve Maduro Torpedo is fine if you're doing something else and not really paying attention. If you're mowing the lawn, or fishing, or golfing, stick one of these feather-lite pylons in your mouth and puff away. But if you're hoping to sit, relax, and enjoy the pleasure of a great cigar that hardly cost you anything, don't bother. With this one, you're only getting what you pay for.
Recently I was able to get my greedy hands on a five-pack of Nestor Reserve Maduro torpedos for only 7 bucks in an online auction. Good thing too, because they're not worth a penny more.
The creative marketers at Cigars International certainly hype up these black beauties, using enticing phrases such as "chocolate thunder" and "rated 93 by Cigar Aficionado." Well, how long ago was that? 1998? And which size was it? Funny how the distributors are always vague about that, as if every size in the whole darned line won the super rating. Could you tell us, please? Pretty please? Cause this Nestor torpedo sure as hell doesn't rate a 93 today.
My first concern was that despite their enormous size, these torpedos weigh little more than a feather. Sometimes that's a good sign, as with Padrons, but usually it just means you're in for a cheap ride.
And cheap it was: I couldn't get this thing to light straight, and it never evened out. The smoke was ample and billowy, but had a nondescript taste. To paraphrase the late Lloyd Bentsen, I know chocolate. I've eaten chocolate. I'm friends with chocolate. And you, son, don't taste like chocolate.
But then again, what cigar ever does? I wish reviewers would quit using the word chocolate and come up with something more accurate like "dark, billowy, burnt-toasty flavor." That's about what it comes down to. Some people actually like burned toast. Why not let them know about it?
For a cheap cigar, the Nestor Reserve Maduro Torpedo is fine if you're doing something else and not really paying attention. If you're mowing the lawn, or fishing, or golfing, stick one of these feather-lite pylons in your mouth and puff away. But if you're hoping to sit, relax, and enjoy the pleasure of a great cigar that hardly cost you anything, don't bother. With this one, you're only getting what you pay for.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Oliva Series V: Good, but Not "Very" Good
Review of Oliva Series V robusto:
I was all excited because a friend of mine gave me an Oliva Series V, which has gotten some attention because a particular size in the series, the torpedo, recently won a 94 rating in Cigar Aficionado.
94... Wow! Hardly any non-Cuban cigar ever gets a 94 from the lucky aesthetes at Cigar Aficionado. So I scurried down to my local cigar shop, bursting with anticipation to try the robusto. If one size gets a 94, my thinking went, the other surely would rate high as well.
Not quite. The Oliva Series V robusto was GOOD, but not VERY good. It burned well, drew fine, blasted out amazing amounts of heavy smoke, and tasted... well... adequate. Heavy flavor mostly smacking of pepper. Not a lot of nuance, no notes of this or hints of that. Not creamy, not tangy, not spicy, just a big fat peppery cigar.
So, due to lack of interesting flavor characteristics, I would not give the series V robusto anything near a 94 rating. The cigar went out on me about halfway through, and I didn't fire it back up. I'd had enough, it was time to move on to something else. Life is too short for a cigar that doesn't taste interesting. Maybe the torpedo is a completely different story, but I'm not sure if I want to lay out 9 bucks to find out.
My favorite Oliva is still the Oliva Series G Cameroon robusto. Loads of flavor, hints of tart sweetness, brawn and oomph. Sometimes it pays to stick with what you already know.
I was all excited because a friend of mine gave me an Oliva Series V, which has gotten some attention because a particular size in the series, the torpedo, recently won a 94 rating in Cigar Aficionado.
94... Wow! Hardly any non-Cuban cigar ever gets a 94 from the lucky aesthetes at Cigar Aficionado. So I scurried down to my local cigar shop, bursting with anticipation to try the robusto. If one size gets a 94, my thinking went, the other surely would rate high as well.
Not quite. The Oliva Series V robusto was GOOD, but not VERY good. It burned well, drew fine, blasted out amazing amounts of heavy smoke, and tasted... well... adequate. Heavy flavor mostly smacking of pepper. Not a lot of nuance, no notes of this or hints of that. Not creamy, not tangy, not spicy, just a big fat peppery cigar.
So, due to lack of interesting flavor characteristics, I would not give the series V robusto anything near a 94 rating. The cigar went out on me about halfway through, and I didn't fire it back up. I'd had enough, it was time to move on to something else. Life is too short for a cigar that doesn't taste interesting. Maybe the torpedo is a completely different story, but I'm not sure if I want to lay out 9 bucks to find out.
My favorite Oliva is still the Oliva Series G Cameroon robusto. Loads of flavor, hints of tart sweetness, brawn and oomph. Sometimes it pays to stick with what you already know.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Too Mild to be Lush
Once again I made the mistake of buying a brand in a different size than the one receiving a great review in Cigar Aficionado. In this case, I lunged for a 10-pack of CAO Cameroon robustos because they were on sale ONE DAY ONLY for 30 bucks and free shipping. Greed will get you every time.
Cigar Aficionado had rated the longer size--the CAO Cameroon Toro--with a 90 and praised it with a glad-bag of superlatives indicating that it would provide an out-of-body experience second only to the Trinidad toro, which received a 92.
Well, that may or may not be true, but I can tell you flat out it's NOT true for the robusto. This good-looking, well-constructed cigar promises much more on visual appeal than it delivers when smoked.
The flavor hints at silkiness, but never achieves it. It is so mild and subdued, you'd guess it was modeled after skim milk. None of the subtle sweetness that I've come to expect from Cameroons was evident. I felt like I was sitting in a white room, with white furniture, blowing white smoke after having finished a meal of white food. This cigar was a complete white-out.
Smokers who gravitate to mild might love this cigar, because it's ever so soft and feathery and nice and non-threatening. But to me, it tastes like the cook forgot the salt. It's not yucky, just blah. Hopefully I'll find a friend who likes these, so I can sell off the rest. In the meantime I'm wary of buying the toro, which won the 90 rating, because it's hard to believe it would be much different than the robusto.
You can't have "lush" without a little oomph. Looks like I'll be giving away some CAO Cameroon robustos this Christmas.
Cigar Aficionado had rated the longer size--the CAO Cameroon Toro--with a 90 and praised it with a glad-bag of superlatives indicating that it would provide an out-of-body experience second only to the Trinidad toro, which received a 92.
Well, that may or may not be true, but I can tell you flat out it's NOT true for the robusto. This good-looking, well-constructed cigar promises much more on visual appeal than it delivers when smoked.
The flavor hints at silkiness, but never achieves it. It is so mild and subdued, you'd guess it was modeled after skim milk. None of the subtle sweetness that I've come to expect from Cameroons was evident. I felt like I was sitting in a white room, with white furniture, blowing white smoke after having finished a meal of white food. This cigar was a complete white-out.
Smokers who gravitate to mild might love this cigar, because it's ever so soft and feathery and nice and non-threatening. But to me, it tastes like the cook forgot the salt. It's not yucky, just blah. Hopefully I'll find a friend who likes these, so I can sell off the rest. In the meantime I'm wary of buying the toro, which won the 90 rating, because it's hard to believe it would be much different than the robusto.
You can't have "lush" without a little oomph. Looks like I'll be giving away some CAO Cameroon robustos this Christmas.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Good, But No Chiselito
I'm on the verge of giving up on cheap cigars.
Problem is, a brand like Olor Nicaragua, apparently manufactured only for Famous Smoke Shop, isn't exactly cheap: About 84 bucks for a box of 25. So that makes it a three-dollar-plus cigar.
I won five of these in corona size (5.5 inches by 46) for 7 bucks in an online auction. Boy, I thought I'd really pulled one over on the world, and made out like a bandit! I couldn't wait to try one, and gloat in my bidding prowess, enveloping myself in a cloud of victorious smoke.
But now I think I know why the other bidders let me win: The Olor Nicaragua is nothing special.
Yes, it lit up easily, with a nice opening promise of leather and hickory. I was hoping it would open up into something exciting and powerful, like the La Flor Dominicana chiselito I had a few months ago. The draw was a bit tight, but that was to be expected in a ring size this narrow. The smoke was relatively thick but ultimately one dimensional, and it stayed that way for the entire 70 minutes it took me to smoke it.
Don't get me wrong - the Olor Nicaragua is a nice, medium-bodied smoke, with some interesting flavor attributes and a reliable burn down to the final inch. But it's not titillating or exhilarating, nor lush, nor velvety, nor smooth. It's somewhere in between. For $84 a box, I'd expect a little more.
Life is to short to waste on a mediocre cigar. I'd rather smoke a really crappy cigar and punish myself. At least you know you're alive.
I also won a five-pack of Olor Fuerte coronas for 7 bucks in that same auction. Again, I'm guessing there's a reason the other bidders dropped out. Still, I'm curious. I guess I just can't stay away from those cheap (and not-so-cheap) cigars!
Problem is, a brand like Olor Nicaragua, apparently manufactured only for Famous Smoke Shop, isn't exactly cheap: About 84 bucks for a box of 25. So that makes it a three-dollar-plus cigar.
I won five of these in corona size (5.5 inches by 46) for 7 bucks in an online auction. Boy, I thought I'd really pulled one over on the world, and made out like a bandit! I couldn't wait to try one, and gloat in my bidding prowess, enveloping myself in a cloud of victorious smoke.
But now I think I know why the other bidders let me win: The Olor Nicaragua is nothing special.
Yes, it lit up easily, with a nice opening promise of leather and hickory. I was hoping it would open up into something exciting and powerful, like the La Flor Dominicana chiselito I had a few months ago. The draw was a bit tight, but that was to be expected in a ring size this narrow. The smoke was relatively thick but ultimately one dimensional, and it stayed that way for the entire 70 minutes it took me to smoke it.
Don't get me wrong - the Olor Nicaragua is a nice, medium-bodied smoke, with some interesting flavor attributes and a reliable burn down to the final inch. But it's not titillating or exhilarating, nor lush, nor velvety, nor smooth. It's somewhere in between. For $84 a box, I'd expect a little more.
Life is to short to waste on a mediocre cigar. I'd rather smoke a really crappy cigar and punish myself. At least you know you're alive.
I also won a five-pack of Olor Fuerte coronas for 7 bucks in that same auction. Again, I'm guessing there's a reason the other bidders dropped out. Still, I'm curious. I guess I just can't stay away from those cheap (and not-so-cheap) cigars!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Cienfuegos Blazer: Overhyped 8-Dollar Cigar
I've managed to try two of the Cienfuegos Blazers (i.e. toro size), supposedly Rolando Reyes' meisterwork. I find this to be an overhyped 8-dollar cigar (or maybe even $12 or $13 at retail, I haven't checked). Luckily I got these two in a 20-stick sampler from Puros Indios that only cost me 32 bucks.
Frankly, I'd rather have a plain old Puros Indios, or a Doble Maduro, or a Viejo 99, all much less expensive blends. Each of them has more sublety and flavor than the Cienfuegos, which tastes like a 2-dollar cigar.
What is lacking, primarily, is flavor. The smoke is rich, a bit tart and a bit creamy, but there's nothing interesting underneath the heft. None of the expected wood or honey oatmeal undertones that you expect from Puros Indios. Instead, a briny, salty fullness that doesn't develop. What were they thinking when they released this cigar? Were they thinking we wouldn't notice, and just keep ordering bundle after expensive bundle?
All through the first half of this cigar, I could only think it was one of the most disappointing and overpriced sticks I've ever smoked, second only to the disastrous Gurkha Centurian. If the Cienfuegos were a 3 or even 4 dollar cigar, I might not complain. No, let's face it, I'd still complain: Even at 3 dollars, it wouldn't be a great smoke.
Then, during the second half, it started to get some flavor - a little leather, a little egg (which I don't mind). But halfway down a cigar is a long time to wait for some quality to emerge.
Aw, shucks, I started thinking at this point: It's not such a bad cigar. Just took a long time to get started. Decent flavor during the last third - however with a slight burning on the tongue.
Then again, no: This is definitely a flawed cigar. Not a total waste of time, but requires too much patience and coaxing. Not the all-around pleasant experience you demand from a premium.
At the last 1.5 inches, the cigar regressed to bitter tar and gumminess. I let it go out.
I will never seek out another Cienfuegos blazer, nor even buy one at discount. It does not pass muster. Sorry, Rolando. I loved all the others in the sampler; even the super-cheapie Flor del Todo, which at least has the decency to give you what you pay for.
Frankly, I'd rather have a plain old Puros Indios, or a Doble Maduro, or a Viejo 99, all much less expensive blends. Each of them has more sublety and flavor than the Cienfuegos, which tastes like a 2-dollar cigar.
What is lacking, primarily, is flavor. The smoke is rich, a bit tart and a bit creamy, but there's nothing interesting underneath the heft. None of the expected wood or honey oatmeal undertones that you expect from Puros Indios. Instead, a briny, salty fullness that doesn't develop. What were they thinking when they released this cigar? Were they thinking we wouldn't notice, and just keep ordering bundle after expensive bundle?
All through the first half of this cigar, I could only think it was one of the most disappointing and overpriced sticks I've ever smoked, second only to the disastrous Gurkha Centurian. If the Cienfuegos were a 3 or even 4 dollar cigar, I might not complain. No, let's face it, I'd still complain: Even at 3 dollars, it wouldn't be a great smoke.
Then, during the second half, it started to get some flavor - a little leather, a little egg (which I don't mind). But halfway down a cigar is a long time to wait for some quality to emerge.
Aw, shucks, I started thinking at this point: It's not such a bad cigar. Just took a long time to get started. Decent flavor during the last third - however with a slight burning on the tongue.
Then again, no: This is definitely a flawed cigar. Not a total waste of time, but requires too much patience and coaxing. Not the all-around pleasant experience you demand from a premium.
At the last 1.5 inches, the cigar regressed to bitter tar and gumminess. I let it go out.
I will never seek out another Cienfuegos blazer, nor even buy one at discount. It does not pass muster. Sorry, Rolando. I loved all the others in the sampler; even the super-cheapie Flor del Todo, which at least has the decency to give you what you pay for.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Going Too Low with Indian Tabac Boxer
I recently smoked an Indian Tabac Boxer ("Cuban Corojo") - another pit stop on my "how low can you go" quest to find the cheapest Rocky Patel cigar worth smoking. This time I think I hit bottom. No offense, Rocky, but nobody's perfect.
I lit up the Boxer while having a beer at Tom's Burned Down Cafe on Madeline Island, WI which is, by the way, one of the whackiest outdoor bars in the world and one you should visit at least once before you die. I figured if there's any place you can smoke in public and not get reprimanded, this would be it. I was right. No one scolded me or even looked at me askance. People were doing a lot crazier things that night than smoking a cigar.
The boxer was a friendly-looking little 4.5 inch robusto, fat and compact. But upon lighting, I was tempted to put it out and go for something else. It tasted somewhat dry, dusty, and harsh, with a pungeance of muddy red clay. To be fair, about halfway through it developed a warm, Rocky-ish flavor, a meatiness reminiscent of Camacho monarchas with about half the strenth. This flavor lasted quite a while, then turned harsh again at the last inch. I put the cigar down at that point.
For a cheapie, it was about what you'd expect. Not surprising in any way, unlike the Fire Corojo, which tasted better than its price. The I.T. Boxer is not one I'm planning to have again, unless someone comes up to me, sticks it in my mouth, and says "smoke this" without charging me a cent. Higly unlikely.
I lit up the Boxer while having a beer at Tom's Burned Down Cafe on Madeline Island, WI which is, by the way, one of the whackiest outdoor bars in the world and one you should visit at least once before you die. I figured if there's any place you can smoke in public and not get reprimanded, this would be it. I was right. No one scolded me or even looked at me askance. People were doing a lot crazier things that night than smoking a cigar.
The boxer was a friendly-looking little 4.5 inch robusto, fat and compact. But upon lighting, I was tempted to put it out and go for something else. It tasted somewhat dry, dusty, and harsh, with a pungeance of muddy red clay. To be fair, about halfway through it developed a warm, Rocky-ish flavor, a meatiness reminiscent of Camacho monarchas with about half the strenth. This flavor lasted quite a while, then turned harsh again at the last inch. I put the cigar down at that point.
For a cheapie, it was about what you'd expect. Not surprising in any way, unlike the Fire Corojo, which tasted better than its price. The I.T. Boxer is not one I'm planning to have again, unless someone comes up to me, sticks it in my mouth, and says "smoke this" without charging me a cent. Higly unlikely.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
On the Verge of Glory
I have one word to describe the La Gloria Cubana Wavell (natural): Almost.
Almost a powerful, ass-kicking cigar. Almost a genuinely strong and satisfying flavor. Almost a hint of fruit or wood that gets past the ashy, eggy basis of the classic cheap cigar. Almost something you can buy in bulk and hold in reserve for those times when you don't know exactly what you want.
But not quite. This cigar is only a shade better than the La Hoya Excaliber Epicure. It verges on glory, but falls short. Short on nuance, sweetness, tartness, flavor. Strong on density, draw and power, long on finish, but ultimately leaving you feeling feeling ashen and spent. This is not a taster's delight. It's a textbook stinky cigar, the kind that clogs up boxing rings and Oscar Madison's card games.
La Gloria Cubana: Dry, bold, billowy no-nonsense smoke for those with guts.
Just don't look for glory.
Almost a powerful, ass-kicking cigar. Almost a genuinely strong and satisfying flavor. Almost a hint of fruit or wood that gets past the ashy, eggy basis of the classic cheap cigar. Almost something you can buy in bulk and hold in reserve for those times when you don't know exactly what you want.
But not quite. This cigar is only a shade better than the La Hoya Excaliber Epicure. It verges on glory, but falls short. Short on nuance, sweetness, tartness, flavor. Strong on density, draw and power, long on finish, but ultimately leaving you feeling feeling ashen and spent. This is not a taster's delight. It's a textbook stinky cigar, the kind that clogs up boxing rings and Oscar Madison's card games.
La Gloria Cubana: Dry, bold, billowy no-nonsense smoke for those with guts.
Just don't look for glory.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
All Size, No Action: Quintero Churchill
Is it me, or do Churchill-sized cigars deliver a lot less than they promise?
Last night I finally had a whole evening of uninterrupted time to hang out with a buddy and smoke a cigar, so I took along the biggest one in my humidor: The Quintero Churchill (natural), a square-pressed colossus coming in at 7.25 inches long and 54 ring wide. It looked great, and was rated #24 for all of 2006 by Cigar Aficionado. My hopes were high.
The last Quintero I had tried, a maduro robusto, had practically knocked me out of my seat, so I didn't know what to expect. Would this thing put me in the emergency room? You'd think a Churchill would deliver mazimum strength, duration and physiological impact.
Not so. With every Churhill I've smoked, you spend the first inch waiting for air to turn into smoke. After that, experience will vary. In the case of the Quintero, the flavor was pleasant and mid-range, but just short of being bold and interesting. By the time I got to the middle of the cigar, the flavor started to open up and I had hopes that I was approaching the fabled sweet spot. But alas, the draw began to falter and within a few short minutes the thing had gone out. Nearly half the cigar remained unsmoked. I threw in the towel. I'd gotten a decent, if not exciting, hour out of it, and lots of good conversation in between.
I'm starting to think that Churchills are just not my size. I'm well under six feet tall, and I probably lack the cubic mouth volume to draw properly on these oversized monsters. Guys who smoke Churchills should be bald, six-foot-five, with hair on their backs and cheeks the size of grapefruits. With one puff, they'll draw a quarter of an inch off the sucker. All that suction probably keeps the burn temperature high, ensuring a decent flavor and consistent burn.
Normal-sized guys like me should stick to robustos. Five inches of solid burn and flavor from the get-go, no waiting around for the first inch to turn into something real. And that if you're lucky.
The Quintero Churchill is a good cigar, maybe even a great one. I'm just not the right guy to smoke it.
Last night I finally had a whole evening of uninterrupted time to hang out with a buddy and smoke a cigar, so I took along the biggest one in my humidor: The Quintero Churchill (natural), a square-pressed colossus coming in at 7.25 inches long and 54 ring wide. It looked great, and was rated #24 for all of 2006 by Cigar Aficionado. My hopes were high.
The last Quintero I had tried, a maduro robusto, had practically knocked me out of my seat, so I didn't know what to expect. Would this thing put me in the emergency room? You'd think a Churchill would deliver mazimum strength, duration and physiological impact.
Not so. With every Churhill I've smoked, you spend the first inch waiting for air to turn into smoke. After that, experience will vary. In the case of the Quintero, the flavor was pleasant and mid-range, but just short of being bold and interesting. By the time I got to the middle of the cigar, the flavor started to open up and I had hopes that I was approaching the fabled sweet spot. But alas, the draw began to falter and within a few short minutes the thing had gone out. Nearly half the cigar remained unsmoked. I threw in the towel. I'd gotten a decent, if not exciting, hour out of it, and lots of good conversation in between.
I'm starting to think that Churchills are just not my size. I'm well under six feet tall, and I probably lack the cubic mouth volume to draw properly on these oversized monsters. Guys who smoke Churchills should be bald, six-foot-five, with hair on their backs and cheeks the size of grapefruits. With one puff, they'll draw a quarter of an inch off the sucker. All that suction probably keeps the burn temperature high, ensuring a decent flavor and consistent burn.
Normal-sized guys like me should stick to robustos. Five inches of solid burn and flavor from the get-go, no waiting around for the first inch to turn into something real. And that if you're lucky.
The Quintero Churchill is a good cigar, maybe even a great one. I'm just not the right guy to smoke it.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Too Much, Too Little, Too Late
Early in my cigar smoking days, reading the reviews and ratings, I used to wonder why people made such a big deal out of the DRAW. If the darned cigar tasted good, who cared if the draw was too loose or tight? Well, soon I learned. DRAW is where it all starts, and sometimes ends.
Take the Indian Tabac Super Fuerte Mini Bellicoso, which is a maduro as opposed to the natural-wrapped robustos I've enjoyed so much in the past. A feller at work gave me two of these maduros to sample and, taking one out to the deck last night, my first impression was: Man, this thing is wrapped tight as a rock. If I had bonked someone over the head with it, it would have done some serious damage. But on to the real test, which was lighting and smoking it.
It lit just fine, but that's about where my satisfaction ended. First of all, the DRAW was too tight, and it stayed too tight, and yes, it mattered. For not only did I have to suck on this thing like a straw in a milkshake, the smoke that resulted was nondescript. Heavy, thick and strong, but still nondescript. I kept waiting for the flavor to appear and for the draw to loosen into the telltale sweet spot, but it never happened. At the halfway point, I gave up and lit up something else.
Namely, an odd antique of a cigar named Flor de Farach that another dude at work gave me after cleaning out his basement and finding a box of these in a corner somewhere. This particular specimen was a nice light-colored lonsdale size, but it had lost almost all of its sweet tobacco aroma when I brought it up to my nose. In fact it smelled a little stinky, and this without even having lit it. My hopes were not high for this grandpa.
Leaving the Indian to die in the ashtray, I fired up the Farach, expecting the worst. Fortunately, this cigar was not bad, just mediocre. It had a wonderful DRAW, not too loose, not too tight - but that's about all it had going for it. The smoke was light yet full, with a hint of potato or onion, but not enough to make a difference. Drawing it in and blowing it out was fun, the way a cigar is fun to someone who only smokes maybe once a year and has yet to realize that cigars are not just about biliously offensive clouds of smoke, but also flavor.
Flavor aside, the Farach smoked well. But without flavor, how good can a smoke really be? I suppose if I had been at a golf course yakking it up with pals, or showing off at an outdoor party, the mere production of smoke would have been enough to satisfy me. But I was alone on the deck, waiting for something good to happen. Since the flavor was so scant, I grew bored with this stick after about the halfway point and let it go out.
So, two halves of two mediocre cigars. Not the greatest experience. Not the reason I'm willing to place my tongue and mouth at a long-term health risk. I'm tempted to run out tonight and fire up a good old reliable Indian Tabac Super Fuerte robusto - natural, not braggedy maduro, and not wrapped too tight, or too loose, but just right. And flavor? You can bet there will be loads of it.
Take the Indian Tabac Super Fuerte Mini Bellicoso, which is a maduro as opposed to the natural-wrapped robustos I've enjoyed so much in the past. A feller at work gave me two of these maduros to sample and, taking one out to the deck last night, my first impression was: Man, this thing is wrapped tight as a rock. If I had bonked someone over the head with it, it would have done some serious damage. But on to the real test, which was lighting and smoking it.
It lit just fine, but that's about where my satisfaction ended. First of all, the DRAW was too tight, and it stayed too tight, and yes, it mattered. For not only did I have to suck on this thing like a straw in a milkshake, the smoke that resulted was nondescript. Heavy, thick and strong, but still nondescript. I kept waiting for the flavor to appear and for the draw to loosen into the telltale sweet spot, but it never happened. At the halfway point, I gave up and lit up something else.
Namely, an odd antique of a cigar named Flor de Farach that another dude at work gave me after cleaning out his basement and finding a box of these in a corner somewhere. This particular specimen was a nice light-colored lonsdale size, but it had lost almost all of its sweet tobacco aroma when I brought it up to my nose. In fact it smelled a little stinky, and this without even having lit it. My hopes were not high for this grandpa.
Leaving the Indian to die in the ashtray, I fired up the Farach, expecting the worst. Fortunately, this cigar was not bad, just mediocre. It had a wonderful DRAW, not too loose, not too tight - but that's about all it had going for it. The smoke was light yet full, with a hint of potato or onion, but not enough to make a difference. Drawing it in and blowing it out was fun, the way a cigar is fun to someone who only smokes maybe once a year and has yet to realize that cigars are not just about biliously offensive clouds of smoke, but also flavor.
Flavor aside, the Farach smoked well. But without flavor, how good can a smoke really be? I suppose if I had been at a golf course yakking it up with pals, or showing off at an outdoor party, the mere production of smoke would have been enough to satisfy me. But I was alone on the deck, waiting for something good to happen. Since the flavor was so scant, I grew bored with this stick after about the halfway point and let it go out.
So, two halves of two mediocre cigars. Not the greatest experience. Not the reason I'm willing to place my tongue and mouth at a long-term health risk. I'm tempted to run out tonight and fire up a good old reliable Indian Tabac Super Fuerte robusto - natural, not braggedy maduro, and not wrapped too tight, or too loose, but just right. And flavor? You can bet there will be loads of it.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Go-To Gonzalez?
Postscript 9/13/2008
After revisiting this brand recently, I can only say regarding my original review below: I must have been out of my f#$^ing mind! The Rafael Gonzalez robusto (natural) upon multiple outings has none of the full sweetness I described at first. It is indeed a bland Connecticut shade cigar, whose only recommendation is that it has a bit more kick than the usual mild General Cigar offering. This cigar is only a notch better than a Dominican Cohiba, Montecristo White, Las Cabrillas, Vega Talanga Rojo or Macanudo Hyde Park.
Original review follows:
Sometimes I question the craze for heavy maduro flavor. Natural wrappers also have a lot going for them, and tend to bring a certain sweetness that maduros don't have. I guess sweetness isn't considered manly enough by your average rough-and-tumble cigar chomper.
But a certain amount of sweetness, in my book, can be welcome as long as it's hearty. Rafael Gonzalez, for example. I tried one in robusto size recently, and found it to have a slightly tangy, melony core that was quite pleasing and satisfying - not cloying at all - and that held steadily from the beginning through the end. This cigar burned perfectly, produced huge clouds of smoke and tasted great all the way down to the last inch.
I didn't smoke the last inch but probably could have, if I'd been feeling like a fiend and it wasn't one o'clock in the morning.
Verdict: Potential go-to cigar. Must try one again soon.
After revisiting this brand recently, I can only say regarding my original review below: I must have been out of my f#$^ing mind! The Rafael Gonzalez robusto (natural) upon multiple outings has none of the full sweetness I described at first. It is indeed a bland Connecticut shade cigar, whose only recommendation is that it has a bit more kick than the usual mild General Cigar offering. This cigar is only a notch better than a Dominican Cohiba, Montecristo White, Las Cabrillas, Vega Talanga Rojo or Macanudo Hyde Park.
Original review follows:
Sometimes I question the craze for heavy maduro flavor. Natural wrappers also have a lot going for them, and tend to bring a certain sweetness that maduros don't have. I guess sweetness isn't considered manly enough by your average rough-and-tumble cigar chomper.
But a certain amount of sweetness, in my book, can be welcome as long as it's hearty. Rafael Gonzalez, for example. I tried one in robusto size recently, and found it to have a slightly tangy, melony core that was quite pleasing and satisfying - not cloying at all - and that held steadily from the beginning through the end. This cigar burned perfectly, produced huge clouds of smoke and tasted great all the way down to the last inch.
I didn't smoke the last inch but probably could have, if I'd been feeling like a fiend and it wasn't one o'clock in the morning.
Verdict: Potential go-to cigar. Must try one again soon.
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