Ashton Majesty

I'm basking in the afterglow of an excellent cigar tasting, courtesy of our local cigar bar, Jake's Cigars & Spirits. Tonight's featured guest was Ashton Cigars' Bill Rectenwald, with a great lineup of Ashton cigars and some great pairing options of cheeses, nuts, and vodka. My cigar for the evening was the Ashton Majesty, upon the urging of a great friend, MMK, earlier in the day.

Now, I know what you might be thinking; "Jimbob, you don't really like shade-grown Connecticut wrapped, Dominican cigars." Aye, I usually take a pass on the blondes, but both MMK and Bill thought the Majesty was a must-try, so I gave it an introduction to my torch. I can say that I didn't regret it for a moment.

From what I was told, the Majesty is the fillers from an Ashton VSG, but with a shade-grown Connecticut wrapper, rather than the sun-grown variety. The substantial body and smooth and steady spice definitely backed up that claim. While most mild blends that sport shade-grown wrappers leave me with little but the sweet, grassy flavor of the wrapper, the Majesty was a much better balanced cigar. The first couple inches were mainly toasty tobacco and spice flavors, with just a little of the sweet-grassy tone from the wrapper.

At the mid-point of the cigar, I noshed a handful of nuts, and went back to the cigar to taste the difference. It was a remarkably different flavor, mostly an earthy, dry leather set of flavors, with the spice muted in the background. After another inch, I tried a cube of medium Cheddar cheese, and the flavors underwent another twist. After the cheese, the spice was almost gone, and I could single out the sweet grassy flavor of the wrapper.

Pulling into the nub, the great tobacco and spice flavors carried the cigar until the end. It was an outstanding smoke, as one would expect from a $12 cigar. Hats off to Ashton and Jake's for putting on a great tasting. The Ashton rep tells me that the Aged Maduro #56 is the same fillers, but with a maduro wrapper. I'm definitely going to scout for a couple of these next.

Troya Clasico robusto

Ladies and gentlemen; sometimes, a recommendation can get you in trouble. My friend and colleague, Uncle Booga, had the good fortune to be a reviewer for the Winter '09 Cigar Magazine, and one of the cigars to smoke was the Troya Clasico. On his recommendation, and against my better judgment, I picked up a pair of them at the shop.

"Holy crap!"
" $9.60!?"
" Plus tax?!"
" EACH!?"
"For a ROBUSTO?!"

I paced the walk-in humidor. I held the pair of robustos, almost putting them back in the box. Damn, Booga said these were good. How good could they be? Hell, Pepin's got a new cigar out as often as I fart. How good could they be? The La Aroma de Cuba was pretty good, and that was $8, and I still felt it was overpriced.

So, I went ahead and bought the pair of Troya and headed home, wondering if I've just thrown away good money. How good could they be?

So here it was, a month later, and I fished one out of the cooler. (Heh, "Hogan! 30 days in the cooler for you!")

The Troya Clasico robusto has a nice, medium brown Nicaraguan Corojo wrapper sporting moderate veining on an otherwise smooth surface with light tooth. This 5x54 cigar felt hefty in the hand, like it was decently stuffed with Pepin's Nicaraguan fillers, and the draw had some moderate restraint to agree.

The cigar started off with Pepin's trademark white & black pepper blast. Okay, Holt's 'Old Henry' started off this way too, and it only costs half that of the Troya. Great. La Aroma de Cuba, all over again.

And then, after the "Pepin is in da Hizzouse" beginning, the cigar changed. Wow. The flavors were simple: Cedar and leather with a thick, creamy white pepper alfredo sauce. So creamy, that it really coated the palate with a smooth pepper spice. I'd say this cigar was medium to full-bodied, and I didn't notice any outrageous nicotine content.

It was delicious. All the way to the finger-burning nub.

The flavor didn't change much the rest of the cigar, but that was fine with me, as this was a lovely blend. I didn't really want to like it, as I hate falling in love with expensive cigars. But, despite my resistance, Pepin's reeled me in on this one. I hate when that happens.

Verdict:

If the price were a buck cheaper, this would be a solid 4 Horseman stick.

Camacho 10th Anniversary Corojo 11/18

Special times call for special cigars, and my 10th wedding anniversary was no exception. Being gifted with a cornball sense of humor, I grabbed a Camacho 10th Anniversary Corojo that's been resting in the humidor for almost a year and a half.

Camacho is renowned for the power of their cigars, with Coyolar and SLR being very muscular blends, and the regular Corojo line having some kick to it as well. The 10th Anni is more about finesse than brute force, and the cigar has just become smoother with time:



Verdict:

Tasty cigar, I just wish they were $2 cheaper per stick.

Fuente Anejo #55, and other thoughts

Well, I made it through another busy semester of work projects, class, kids, cub scout meetings, late night lab sessions, and teeth-grinding exams. I was oscillating between D and C for much of the semester, thanks to a couple disastrous exam results. My lab work an homework assignment grades were my upwards lift.

The final exam consisted of circuits and problems that gave people the most grief of previous exams. The final semester grade came back as 3.0, meaning I did pretty good on the Final Exam. So I felt like rewarding myself, and fished out a Fuente Anejo #55 that I bought before New Years.

Mmmmm, smooooooth. Aside from some irregular burning, the Anejo smoked great, and the flavors were a chorus of leather, cedar, coffee, and mild spice. What a cigar.

I've noticed something about the super-premium cigars that I've been fortunate enough to smoke: the flavor profile seems to be a true blend.

To borrow a musical analogy, I'd explain it as the difference between a small singing group and a choir. Gladys Knight & the Pips, Ray Charles and the Raelettes, or the Bee Gees are all great singing groups, but there are some dominant voices, and others that sink way into the background. That's how I see the flavors of many premium cigars, where there's one very obvious flavor at the moment, with a couple others lurking in the background. The foreground flavor may change here and there, but there's always someone in front, and the others back in the background.

The choir analogy for the super-premium cigars speaks to the complexity and character of the blend. There's a harmonic richness, and individual voices are more difficult to single out. The overall experience is one of smooth, rich texture, without having to be 'strong' enough to kick you in the teeth.

The Anejo #55, Padron Anniversary 1964 maduro, and Oliva Master Blends I strike me as choral masterpieces of cigar blending.

Okay, enough blathering for now..

Oliva Master Blends I torpedo

This is a cigar WAY beyond my usual means, and only came into my possession as a gift from my Oliva sales rep, Cory. This is an incredible gift, and I'm grateful. Cory has taken the territory by storm, and is plotting event mayhem in every corner. Oliva is in great hands here.

Back to the cigar, the silver-brown wrapper was mildly veined, and emitted a light leather/hay aroma. A pinch along the cigar's body was slightly yielding, but never soft, and the draw was perfectly balanced.

Toasted and lit, the cigar became an orgy of leather, coffee and mild, earthy spice with occasional caramel and vanilla notes. The flavors weren't too powerful, but they were quite smooth, the body of the cigar being a solid medium, waxing full near the nub. In this way, it reminded me of a Padron Anniversary cigar; great flavors, never overpowering, and incredibly smooth. A Master Blend indeed.

I have had the good fortune to buy a couple Master Blends III robustos, being $9 each, and will be reviewing them soon. If they age as well as this Master Blends I, I'm going to need to put a half-dozen down for a six-year nap, and see what happens.

Taking the Spendy Cigar Plunge

I was in to shop today, picking up a couple cigars for some friends, and I spy a box that read "Work of Art". "Hmmm," says I, and open the box to behold some dark, shapely cigars. I grabbed a pair, and put the box back on the shelf, when I notice that the box beneath it reads "Reserva no 55 Xtra Viejo". Those looked good too, so I snagged a couple of those too.

On my way out of the humi, I spied a beautiful box that read "Master Blends" and grabbed a pair of those as well.

So, I got a wee shock at the cash register, but methinks I still may have scored some decent cigars. What do you think?