Wrapper: Ecuadorian Connecticut
Binder: Nicaraguan Habano
Filler: Nicaragua (Jalapa, Condega, Estelí)
Size: Toro (6 x 52)
Strength: Medium
Price: ~$5 per cigar (5-pack pricing)
Release: Ongoing
Blender: Undisclosed
Factory: Undisclosed
Experience Rating: 92
Forget what I’ve said about not liking Connies.
I keep running into ones that make me rethink that position. This is one of them. To be clear, it’s not that I don’t like Connies as a whole. Most of the ones I’ve had tend to get harsh in the final third, which leaves me feeling a little short-changed.
That’s fine in a cheap smoke. It’s not in a super- or ultra-premium.
Which brings me to the Retrohale #1. I’ll just say it. I like this cigar. A lot. I didn’t expect to.
Part of that is the inner snob in me that tends to dismiss house blends. The other part is that it’s a Connie, and I’m not supposed to like those. Based on this experience, I’m calling BS on myself.
Long story short, this cigar isn’t going to win any awards for complexity or sophistication in its flavor profile. But it’s approachable, accessible, and incredibly articulate. Based on its “Scratch Blends” moniker, it would be easy to dismiss this as a yard-gar. That would be a mistake. It’s a solid cigar that can be enjoyed any time of the day.
Some cigars take you on a journey. Others draw you inward. Then there are those who ask nothing of you other than to enjoy them. This is one of those.
The wrapper is smooth with an oily sheen. I smell the wrapper and foot, and they’re not forthcoming with anything other than hay, barnyard, and a hint of sweetness. The cigar is solidly built with no soft spots, and the cold draw is perfect.
It’s a bright, if predictable start: cedar, lemon peel, light coffee, and baking spices. It’s pleasant with no hard edges. And importantly, the cigar never becomes harsh throughout the smoke, even as it builds in strength.
As the cigar settles in, my first thought is simple: This is delicious. It has that Connie brightness without the slightly bitter edge I’ve come to associate with it. Because of that, I find that I can safely retrohale, even if just slightly, to help open up the profile.
I smile. This is the cigar’s name, and I start to think maybe it’s what the line is all about.
A little further in, a structure begins to take shape. It’s not a gravitational core like you get with heavier cigars. This is more of a frame, an artifice, organizing itself around cedar, lemon peel, coffee with cream, and baking spices as structural elements.
Red pepper spice finally appears as an ambient note in the background, adding some vertical lift to the profile.
A couple of inches in, the cream thickens, smoothing the smoke. This is countered by a slight uptick in the spice. The tension livens the experience.
Then flickers begin to appear and cycle: orange peel, malt, indistinct tartness, toasted bread, green tea, paper, honeycomb. They don’t come in rapid-fire, so this isn’t complexity. But they show up like little pinpricks, just enough to keep things interesting.
At the halfway point, green tea attaches to the frame. It’s a nice addition that lifts the profile.
I normally don’t discuss construction or burn lines in my reviews because my focus is on the experience. But the burn line on this cigar has been razor-straight the entire smoke. I made a single correction near the beginning to fix a slightly crooked toast. Since then, it has burned evenly.
Flickers have ceased, and the frame has gathered more flavors: cedar, citrus, baking spices, cream, green tea, yeasty bread, and malt. Again, this isn’t complexity. It’s just accumulation.
In the home stretch, spice ticks up again. I was expecting the spice to dominate, as with other Connies, but it has just been a slow, gradual climb. This may have to do with the Habano binder and Nicaraguan fillers smoothing out the profile.
Orange peel shows up again and integrates with the frame, adding a subtle touch of brightness.
In the last couple of inches, little flickers emerge: marzipan, roasted peanuts, mint, herbs, and an unexpected umami. What strikes me is that even though this isn’t a complex cigar, the flickers and flavor accumulation give it more movement than expected.
They don’t transform the cigar. They simply keep showing up at the right moments, adding just enough texture to keep the experience alive.
In the final inch, the spice ramps up sharply. It’s not overpowering, but it is definitely assertive now. The profile compresses slightly, increasing the strength to medium-plus. And the cigar is still amazingly articulate and composed.
Not a bit of harshness.
Dark brown sugar attaches itself to the frame. Strength and spice continue to build. Nicotine finally makes an appearance. The profile is full-tilt now, and it still refuses to collapse into muddiness.
I nub it.
I must admit that I’m feeling a little embarrassed for frequently mentioning that I don’t like Connies. Several of my latest reviews have had Connie wrappers.
I. Liked. Every. One.
But this is part of the beauty of this hobby. There are so many blends. So many permutations. One wrapper type doesn’t tell the whole story. It never has.
The same broad category can produce cigars I avoid and cigars I nub. That’s what keeps this interesting. Just when I think I’ve figured out what I like, another cigar comes along and proves me wrong.
I’ll come clean and admit that I got my 5-pack as a review sample from Cigar Page. I’ve smoked four of these, and when I’m done, I’m going to buy more. It’s simply a great cigar to smoke any time of the day.
You can buy these at affiliate Cigar Page. When you get them, let them rest for at least two weeks. I smoked my first one right off the truck and wasted a good cigar.
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