Wrapper: Broadleaf Maduro / United States: Pennsylvania
Binder: Habano / Nicaragua: Estelí
Filler: Habano / Nicaragua: Estelí, Condega; Habano / Honduras: Copán
Size: Toro Deluxe Tubos (6 x 52)
Strength: Medium → Full (final inch)
Body: Medium → Full (home stretch)
Price: $5/stick ($25 five-pack) / $4/stick ($79.98 20-ct bundle)
Factory: Tabacalera Pages, Nicaragua
Blender: Raymond Pages
Release: 2022 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:45
Experience Rating: 94
Another fantastic house blend from Cigar Page and Raymond Pages, and another great example of his skill as a blender.
What caught my eye with this blend is the Copán filler tobacco. Word has it that the Dominican tobacco in the original blend was no longer available, so he replaced it with Copán. That’s not a region you see in many blends.
What makes the choice interesting is what Copán can do behaviorally. It tends to mellow a blend, taking some of the edge off and giving the other tobaccos more room to express themselves. In a cigar built around Pennsylvania Broadleaf, Estelí, and Condega, that can make a big difference. Instead of everything coming at you at once, the blend has room to open up.
And this cigar opens up nicely.
Synopsis
Strength begins above medium and edges upward through the first half before leveling briefly, then rises sharply late and finishes at full. Body starts at medium, climbs quickly, continues rising through the middle of the smoke, and reaches full by the home stretch, where it remains. Activity builds steadily through the early progression, drops through halfway and the home stretch, spikes in the last couple of inches, then falls sharply through the last inch and nub.
The skin is a dark chocolate brown, with even darker splotches scattered across the wrapper. The skin glistens with oil like an eggroll just out of the fryer.
The wrapper gives off a flowery sweetness first, followed by hay and dry sweetgrass. Fresh-baked bread comes next, with only the slightest hint of barnyard underneath it. Bread is much more pronounced at the foot. It dominates the aroma before giving way to subtle fruit and, unexpectedly, a little orange peel.
The draw is perfect, with just the slightest bit of resistance. Surprisingly, after everything coming off the wrapper and foot, the cold draw is pretty unremarkable. There’s really only a faint Hawaiian bread note.
I light up and am immediately greeted with a strong hit of espresso and black pepper.
Hello!
That definitely gets my attention. There’s enough nicotine behind it that I feel the first little nudge almost immediately. A couple of puffs in, spice arrives as a sparkling sensation and sits on my tongue. It’s almost effervescent in the way it moves around.
This isn’t a complex start, but it’s highly organized. Coffee and black pepper form the core almost immediately, giving the cigar a solid structure before anything else has arrived.
Within just a few puffs, the Penn Standard settles in, not wasting any time setting up shop. And after smoking several of these, I already know what its wares are going to look like. This isn’t going to be a complex smoke.
But it’s damn enjoyable.
Cedar enters and joins the coffee and black pepper core. Then a thick cream shows up in both texture and flavor, spreading across the entire profile instead of merely sitting underneath it. A few additions drip in slowly. Roasted peanut and cashew appear first, followed by a touch of caramel and nutmeg.
Firmly into the first half, the profile takes a slightly savory turn. Grilled red meat and mushrooms appear, joined by an eggy texture with the consistency of egg yolk. The black pepper in the core also steps forward. A couple of smokes ago, when I reached this same point, I suddenly had an image of eating breakfast at a diner.
I’m getting it again.
I’m sitting at the counter of a boxcar diner sometime in the ’50s or ’60s. A chatty waitress who calls everyone “hon” works the counter, talking it up with the clientele. Her name is Madge.
I know. It sounds ridiculous. But after smoking several of these, I keep getting to this point and can’t get that scene out of my head.
Coffee steps up like Madge just came by with a refill. Then a tangy hot sauce flavor appears as the spice asserts itself. Grilled meat comes forward, followed by that eggy texture and mushrooms. The spice surges for a moment before the coffee settles it back down.
What’s interesting is the interplay between the core and the secondary flavors. They’re interacting so closely that they seem to occupy the same space rather than sitting apart from one another.
I hit the halfway point at 55 minutes. That has a lot to do with me taking notes, but it also says something about how slowly this cigar burns.
I’m deliberately taking my time with it, too, because the Penn Standard does not like to be rushed. Smoke it too quickly and it burns hot, releasing nicotine faster and turning harsh in a hurry. Bitter, bitter, bitter. Add a strong nicotine buzz to that and it may not be a pretty sight.
Take it slow, though, and the nicotine comes on gradually. You don’t really realize how much is there until later, which is a hell of a lot better than puking halfway through the smoke.
By now, I’m done with the meal. The secondary flavors begin to fade, still present but far enough in the background that they feel more like memories. Coffee steps forward and takes on the darker character of espresso without changing the cigar’s overall intensity.
Wood arrives next: fresh-cut cedar, oak, and something more exotic.
No metaphor this time, but the wood triggers a memory of being in Cozumel, Mexico, a couple of years ago. We rented a villa near the waterfront with a mariscos (seafood) restaurant across the street. Every morning, I’d go there for breakfast and order two tostadas, one piled with baby shrimp and the other with grilled octopus, along with sparkling water and a cup of strong Mexican coffee.
Damn, that was good.
As I get into the second half, I realize that despite the low activity, what I love about this cigar is that it transports me.
The diner scene aside, there hasn’t been much movement in the profile. But that’s not what makes this cigar work. As long as I take my time with it, the damn thing is so enjoyable that the nicotine buzz lets my mind wander.
The profile is now predominantly the core with the wood notes, while the spice buzzes around my mouth like a honeybee hopping from flower to flower, alighting here and there.
I fall into a satisfied reverie, not really caring what may come next or what has already transpired. That could only happen with a well-structured profile.
We put a lot of emphasis on complexity when we talk about cigars, especially complexity in flavor. But there are cigars like this one that aren’t particularly complex at all and still manage to give us a memorable experience.
That’s the beauty of this smoke.
Bread notes come forward next like a plate of assorted breads: sourdough dinner rolls, Hawaiian bread, and a buttery croissant. Other reviews have mentioned sweetness, but I don’t experience it as something independent. It shows up as a characteristic of something else, like the sweetness in Hawaiian bread.
There really isn’t much movement at this point, but that isn’t a negative. The cigar isn’t demanding.
It just wants me to sit with it.
In the last couple of inches, everything else is suddenly off the table.
The Big Beast of Broadleaf takes over.
Pennsylvania Broadleaf is about power and strength, and now it’s on full display. Black pepper deepens, coffee pushes into Turkish territory, becoming thick and gritty, and charred cedar attaches itself to the core. It’s a sudden shift, almost like the cigar pulled a bait and switch on me. After spending most of the smoke on a slow, leisurely cruise, activity spikes dramatically.
When I first saw “Big Beast of Broadleaf” on the band, I figured it was marketing bullshit.
Not anymore.
It reminds me of Kirk Douglas in Ulysses, when he finally reveals who he really is by drawing the bow no one else can draw. That’s what this moment feels like.
The cigar has finally shown me what it was hiding.
In the last inch, things calm down as Ulysses takes his throne.
Yeah, this is the Big Beast of Broadleaf.
But specifically Pennsylvania Broadleaf, with its dark, brooding power. The cigar is showing its true colors now, and I love both the way it tastes and its unabashed boldness.
I can also see where some people might let it burn out at this point. I’ve done it a couple of times myself because I simply couldn’t handle the strength.
This time, I take it down to the last inch. I don’t nub it. I take a few puffs past the last inch, then let it burn out.
At this point, I’ve gotten everything I need from the cigar.
Another hit from Raymond Pages, who continues to impress me.
Forget about this being a house blend. This is just a damn good cigar for what it brings to the table. And no, it’s not going to win any awards for complexity.
But that’s not the point.
The Penn Standard Broadleaf is transportive. It gives me something far more important than a long list of flavors: an experience I’ll remember.
On a side note, Raymond Pages is coming out with a new brand: his own, called Pages Cigars. Their first release is slated for the end of this month. What’s cool about this is that the brand isn’t under the umbrella of Brandshopper, LLC, Cigar Page’s parent.
Instead, Pages Cigars belongs to Raymond’s own Tabacalera Pages operation. After years of blending and manufacturing cigars that mostly carried someone else’s name, he’ll finally have a consumer-facing brand with his own name on the band.
They’ve been pretty tight-lipped about that first release, so there isn’t much public information about the blend yet. But for someone whose fingerprints are already all over a surprising number of good cigars, I’m really curious to see what Raymond does when the cigar is entirely his.
You can purchase this and other vitolas at Cigar Page. The next vitola I’m going to try is the Salamone. I dig what Raymond did with the Megilla MSA.
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