Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra-Seed
Binder: Connecticut Corojo H99
Filler: Dominican HVA & Criollo ’98
Size: Corona Viva (5.75 × 46)
Strength: Medium
Price: ~$9.45-$10.50 (Varies by retailer)
Date Released: 2026
Blender(s): Drew Estate
Factory: La Gran Fabrica Drew Estate (Nicaragua)
Experience Rating: 95
Never judge a line based on a single vitola. Never.
I reviewed the early-access version of this and gave it a score of 80. I smoked two of them for the review, and they both smoked very similarly, so I stand by my rating.
When the cigar was officially released, I bought a fiver of the Toro and a fiver of the Corona Viva. I wanted to be fair. Maybe I missed something. I smoked two of the Toros. They were better than the early-access sticks, but only marginally — and I chalked that up to a little more time to settle before release.
Then I smoked the Corona Viva and it rocked my world.
While the Toro’s profile is amorphous and amoebic, owing to a stronger influence from the Dominican fillers, the Corona Viva is much more focused and driven. Simply put, it feels more like an Undercrown to me.
And that’s an important distinction.
The one thing I’ve come to expect from an Undercrown is that it always declares its identity. Whether I smoke the Maduro or the Shade, I know what I’m smoking. I didn’t get that with the Toro vitola of El Tigre. But the Corona Viva is a different animal altogether. It establishes who it is right away, and it holds the line the entire smoke.
I’ve got a box on order as I write this.
Like the early access sticks, the wrapper and foot don’t reveal much. A little hay, barnyard, and an indistinct sweetness. The cold draw is bready and sweet.
Once lit, it’s an interesting start, with notes of charred cedar, leather, beer malt, cardamom, and tannins. A touch of red pepper spice punctuates the finish. The cardamom catches my attention.
As the cigar settles, the profile immediately leans dark and savory, with black pepper, black coffee, and umami leading over a base of light cream. Malt softens. Raw hazelnut and cardamom emerge, rising to the top of my palate. I can sense a structure almost immediately, which is significantly different from the Toro.
A core forms with coffee and cream at the center, while the charred cedar enfolds them, creating depth and a scaffolding for the profile. Spice remains light and ambient, tugging the core upward, while tannins and leather attach to the center. The cream thickens, providing stability to the base.
As I reach the halfway point, it feels as if the cigar spent the first half defining and solidifying its core, almost like setting the stage for a performance, because a sweet spot emerges, like KISS strutting out on stage, playing Shout It Out Loud.
Cardamom, floral sweetness, bay leaf, fresh-cut cedar, sweet malt, dried apricot, and yeasty bread flow onto the stage and start jamming. The Dominican fillers are breaking through.
There’s an interesting interplay going on. These brighter notes pull hard against the dark core. They almost seem to repel each other. But they’re attached, so it creates a magnificent tension that’s suspenseful and full of intrigue. Will the tension become so strong that the bond breaks? I can’t tell, but I love the suspense.
In the home stretch, the spice ramps up, and the concert is in full swing with the bright flavors cycling. Melted brown sugar emerges, encircling the bright notes like a fog machine. Little spikes wink in and out, like spotlights and pyrotechnics going off.
The band has found its stride.
In the last couple of inches, the profile becomes a little denser and richer. But rather than pull the profile down, it seems to increase the tension between the core and bright notes. The energy in the cigar is kinetic.
Amazingly, the strength is just a touch over medium, but I’m swooning to its music, as the bright flavors continue to cycle and pull against the core, singing I wanna rock and roll all night!
In the last inch, strength slightly intensifies to medium-plus. There hasn’t been a lick of nicotine that would kill the energy. The profile continues to compress, and the spice is still pulling everything up. The brighter flavors also compress, making them less articulate, but they continue to pull against the core.
There’s energy to the end.
I feel invigorated.
I’m blown away by how much energy El Tigre has. This is so different from my experience with the Toro. With the Toro, it was difficult to identify a structure or identity. The Corona Viva wastes no time letting you know who it is and what it does.
That’s very Undercrown.
When I think of Undercrown, fair or not, I have certain expectations, whether it’s Maduro, Shade, or now El Tigre. It has a clear identity. It has an obvious structure. It’s intentional. To me, the different lines are variations on those three things. The blends may be different, but they should follow the same principles.
The Toro didn’t speak within that context. It behaved more like a decent Dominican cigar wrapped with an Undercrown band. That will appeal to others, but it seems to abandon its Undercrown lineage.
That doesn’t mean it’s a bad cigar. To be honest, I was going to write a review on the Toro and score it 89.
The Corona Viva changed all that for me. It stays true to the Undercrown legacy, and it’s the one I will be putting in my humidor.
Total smoke time: 1:15-1:25
Leave a comment