Wrapper: Maduro / Nicaragua
Binder: Nicaraguan / Nicaragua
Filler: Nicaraguan / Nicaragua
Size: Churchill (7 x 48)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (late)
Body: Medium → Medium-Plus (halfway)
Price: $2.20/stick ($55/25-count bundle)
Factory: Las Villas Cigars Factory, Nicaragua
Blender: Guillermo Peña
Release: Regular Production
Smoking Time: 55 minutes
Experience Rating: 91
Why waste serious review time on a $2 stick?
Because it’s not about the stick. It’s about the blender.
In Measuring a Blender’s Skill, I asserted that perhaps the best way to measure a blender’s skill isn’t by smoking their masterpiece. It’s by smoking their cheapest cigar.
A masterpiece demonstrates what a blender can do when all the conditions are favorable. A cheap cigar shows what they can do under the constraint of lower-grade premium tobacco.
So now I’m putting that assertion to the test with Guillermo Peña and the Miami Humidor Bundle Maduro.
Synopsis
Strength remains level through the first half before rising gradually from the Home Stretch through the Last inch. Body climbs steadily from Ignition through the Home Stretch, then holds its position for the remainder of the smoke. Activity rises through Progression, falls at Halfway, rebounds during the Home Stretch, and then declines through the final stages.
The wrapper is rustic, with lots of little veins lining its surface. But despite its rough appearance, the rolling job is even and consistent, with no soft spots or indentations. Oils give the surface an appealing sheen, and it’s toothy and rough, like fine-grit sandpaper.
The wrapper smells of sweet, rich, deeply fermented tobacco, along with vanilla, caramel, and, surprisingly, Cherry Coke. It’s impressively dreamy. At the foot, the Cherry Coke comes through more clearly, joined by a touch of barnyard and fresh-baked, yeasty bread.
The cold draw brings more bread, along with a background mustiness that reminds me of walking through the Winchester Mystery House. It’s an old, very weird house built by Sarah Winchester. Legend says she kept building because she believed she was haunted by the spirits of people killed by Winchester rifles.
A balanced mix of espresso, cedar, black pepper, and a touch of molasses gives the cigar a very nice start. There’s a little barnyard on the retrohale, along with a slightly sour note that provides a welcome contrast to the rest of the opening profile.
Green peppercorn appears alongside a touch of nutmeg. It’s a delicious and declarative start. Lots of cigars only wish they could start this well. Everything is a solid medium across the board.
From the first puff, the cigar began to settle. I’ve found that cheap sticks often light up and just sit there doing nothing, or wander all over the place before finding their footing, if they find it at all.
This one wastes no time. It says, “I’m a Nic puro.”
It’s like what Marton Csokas said in Kingdom of Heaven, “I am Guy de Lusignan. Remember that name.”
A light, prickly and pleasing spice enters, hovering at the roof of my mouth. Baking spices and roasted nuts arrive, adding depth and dimension to the profile. Then cream settles at the base, thickening the body.
The core is confirmed: espresso, cedar and black pepper.
Progressing into the first half, there’s already a certain refinement and composure to the profile. It carries itself with an almost unexpected dignity. Then a thought hits me:
This can’t be a $2 cigar.
More flavors keep accumulating: nougat, beer malt, stone fruit on the finish and white pepper. The cigar is really fucking with me. My mind says cheap stick. My taste buds say anything but.
The only thing giving away its pricing tier is a burn that can get a little wonky at times. But with a profile this flavorful, I’m more than willing to forgive it.
Then, wow. I get a hit of chocolate milkshake. A rich, dark honeycomb comes out on the retrohale, and the collected flavors begin dancing in my mouth. The imagery I get is that the spice is sitting up in the rafters, tugging on them like marionettes. Strange image, maybe, but that’s how the profile presents itself. To be honest, it’s not a stark image, just a subtle feeling.
Who knows whether Guillermo intended to evoke any of this playfulness. The cigar is simply pleasing enough to make room for it, and I think that’s the point. It’s not complex. It doesn’t have wild transitions. It’s just pleasing.
The main message I get from it is, “Smoke me.”
It truly is a Cut. Light. Enjoy. kind of stick.
I hit the halfway point in a little less than half an hour. It’s a fast burner, but I’m okay with that. What I love is that it’s a solid medium-strength cigar with medium-plus body. Most importantly, it’s simply delicious. Not a whit of harshness.
The cream thickens, taking body with it. The spice is starting to assert itself, but it’s still well-behaved. It’s like the sweet kid in elementary school, quietly sitting on the bench and watching his classmates play. He occasionally participates, but most of the time, he’s content to sit and observe.
There’s very little movement among the secondary flavors, but the gang’s all here. The earlier activity came from their accumulation. Now that everyone has arrived, things have settled down.
The intent behind the cigar is becoming much more apparent:
“I’m gonna give you a nice collection of flavors. They won’t do much. But I think you’ll like what I bring you.”
And I really like what it has to offer. What’s remarkable is that the strength hasn’t moved a muscle during the entire smoke.
Uncanny.
I’m nearing the final third at 45 minutes. Like I said, it’s a quick smoke despite its length.
The spice begins to pulse, moving back and forth between the roof of my mouth and my lips. I can detect a little movement in the secondary layer now as the profile slightly compresses. It’s more like the flavors are shifting positions as things get a little more crowded as opposed to overt movement.
Strength finally ticks up a tiny bit as some nicotine takes a peek inside.
If you’re looking for a yard-gar, this is it. But unlike so many tasteless yard-gars, this actually has some substance to it. Why smoke tasteless shit when you can have something with some great flavor?
To draw a parallel, I have some really nice mid-tier rums like El Passador del Oro and Planteray Xaymaca that cost about $30-$40 a bottle. But my workhorse rum is Kingston Queen, an overproof Jamaican white rum that I get on sale for $17 or $18. It’s not at all complex, but it has all the Jamaican funk, or hogo, that I love.
This stick falls into that workhorse category. It ain’t pretty. But it gets the job done. Moreover, this is the kind of stick that makes absolutely no demands on you. That’s its inherent dignity.
It seems to know exactly what it is.
In the last couple of inches, the cigar makes a minor transition as the core turns darker. The espresso stays the same, but black pepper steps forward and the cedar chars significantly. Molasses returns, but amazingly, it’s a little lighter now. More like caramel.
It’s mostly core at this point, with a few stragglers lingering in the background. Roasted nuts. A subtle fruity sweetness appears on the finish, but it’s so faint that I do a double-take.
But it’s there, all right.
The spice is now firmly rooted to the roof of my mouth. It’s becoming assertive, pulsing emphatically in place. Strength is picking up a little more, but it’s still relatively tame.
As I get to the last inch, rather than collapse, the profile goes into reduction mode. Only coffee and black pepper remain. The spice stays firmly in place, like the last vestige of structure preventing a total collapse.
I didn’t nub the other sticks I smoked, and I probably won’t here. The cigar has already shown me what it’s got. It’s almost as if it’s giving me permission to stop smoking it.
I get down to the last three-quarters of an inch and let it burn out.
But I don’t feel bad. It gave me a great experience.
I’m not going to blow smoke up anyone’s ass by saying this cigar smokes way above its pricing tier. It’s a $2 stick. There’s only so much a blender can do with lower-grade premium tobacco.
But I will say this: It may be a cheap stick, but it doesn’t feel or taste cheap.
Some cheap sticks are definite throwaways. They’re tasteless, or they have rough edges that make me chuck them before I even finish the first half. Not once did this cigar present any harshness or have its elbows out. It was simply delicious and flavorful throughout the experience.
What Guillermo Peña has managed to do is create an incredibly flavorful cigar that, while it won’t win any awards for beauty or complexity, is downright pleasing to smoke.
My only complaint is that I had to make more corrections to the burn line than I normally would, especially during the second half. They were minor, but numerous. I don’t normally take points off for a wonky burn, but I have to be fair. It was enough of an issue here to affect the score.
Normally, a rating of 91 equates to buying only a few at a time. But these come in bundles, so I have no choice but to buy a bunch at a time. But that’s just fine with me.
Based on deliciousness alone, I’ll be smoking the shit out of these.
I don’t normally recommend buying bundle cigars, but I’m recommending these. Buy ’em at MiamiHumidor.net. To be clear, I got the Churchill because they were out of the Toro. They also have Connie and Habano versions available. I’m going to try the Habano next.
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