Wrapper: Connecticut
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Undisclosed
Size: Toro (6 x 52)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (final inch)
Body: Medium → Full (last couple of inches)
Price: $8.00 USD; $6.00 each with 3+1; $5.71 each with 10+4
Factory: Undisclosed, Estelí, Nicaragua
Blender: Undisclosed
Release: June 2026 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:25
Experience Rating: 96
I’m always a little wary of trying a new Connie. To be honest, I know it’s a psychosomatic response. It comes from years of smoking some really shitty ones, enough that I go into every new one expecting that bitter and sometimes harsh mineral bite to show up.
But I’ve had to question that reaction. Either cigar makers have adjusted how they build their Connecticut-wrapped cigars or my palate has changed. I don’t know which, but lately, I’ve been smoking some really good Connies.
Including this one.
I’ve been really impressed with the entire Smoke This Trust Me line. Forget about them being affordable cigars. As I’ve said in the past, good is good no matter the price.
The price is simply a bonus.
Strength begins just under medium, reaches medium during Settling In, then rises gradually through First-Half Progression and the Home Stretch before reaching medium-plus in the Last Inch and holding there through the Nub. Body starts at medium, climbs during First-Half Progression, remains steady at Halfway, rises again in the Home Stretch, reaches full in the Last Couple of Inches, and stays there through the Nub. Activity builds from Ignition through First-Half Progression, pulls back at Halfway, peaks in the Home Stretch, then drops sharply through the Last Couple of Inches, Last Inch, and Nub.
The wrapper is a little darker than claro but a shade lighter than Colorado claro. It’s generally smooth, though the contours of the binder show through. The cigar feels firm in my hand, with a little sponginess when I give it a gentle squeeze.
Smelling the wrapper is a treat. It gives off sweet florals along with hay and fresh-cut grass. The foot has more of that floral aroma, with dried apricot and a touch of barnyard. The cold draw is very interesting. It tastes like sweet Arizona green tea, then finishes with raisins.
The first thing I think when I light it is that this doesn’t taste like a Connie. Charred cedar, white pepper, and a touch of nutmeg come first. Then baking spices, citrus, and a distinct grassy sweetness remind me what the cigar is wrapped in.
I expected a soft, gentle start, but while it isn’t forceful, it isn’t timid either. And there’s no Connie harshness at all.
As the cigar settles in, a light cocoa powder enters and immediately moves to the center of the profile. Red pepper spice and a mineral bite come along with it, moving to the top of my mouth, while the retrohale reveals dulce de leche and a hint of root beer. Within half an inch, the whole profile already feels solid and structured.
An inch in, I get a sensation similar to Cuban twang. It isn’t exactly the same, but it has that slightly biting, sour characteristic. The sourness combines with the cocoa powder and makes me think of Hershey’s chocolate, including its distinct and intentional sour-milk finish. A hard-candy sweetness also forms on my tongue, like I’m savoring the vestiges of a bite of cotton candy.
A little further in, I’m still expecting that bitter and sometimes harsh Connie mineral bite to appear, but it never does. The earlier mineral note simply takes the form of astringency.
I love the lift from the sweet finish, which tempts me to speed up my puff rate, but I’m keeping my appetite at bay.
The body thickens ever so slightly through the first couple of inches, with strength ticking up as a little nicotine enters the fray. The smoke starts becoming creamy, and then, wow, I get flan in all its custardy goodness.
It reminds me of sitting in a little restaurant in Cozumel a couple of years ago, where I’d just finished a couple of chapulines tacos before enjoying a dessert of freshly made flan. Chapulines are grasshoppers. They’re roasted and salted, with a distinct sour taste and the consistency of dried meat. I love ’em!
The retrohale is gorgeous. It carries some of that sour twang and reinforces the Hershey’s chocolate flavor.
The burn line has been impressively straight throughout the first half and hasn’t required any corrections. I’m sitting outside in a light breeze, and occasional gusts make it wavy, but it corrects itself as the cigar rests.
This is a subtly complex cigar. The first half is all about accumulating flavors and gathering itself. Everything is organized with zero drift or wandering, and it’s all so balanced that it’s easy to miss just how much is going on.
At the halfway mark, the spice steps forward and moves to the front of my mouth, sitting right behind my teeth. Pretty cool. Coffee finally shows up, though it’s very light. The cedar chars and darkens the general hue of the profile, while strength remains unchanged, hovering near medium.
Activity wanes slightly, and I get the sense that something is about to happen. It’s like sitting at the top of the old Tower of Terror at Disneyland. You know you’re going to drop, but you don’t know when. All the while, the spice is doing a dance and hopping around my mouth.
As I get into the home stretch, man, I can’t get enough of this blend. I may have to use the entire 10+4 deal on this cigar when I re-up, and I’m definitely going to re-up.
The hell of it is that all three Smoke This Trust Me blends are excellent. I scored the Habano a 96, and this one will probably get a similar score, but there’s something about the Connecticut profile that really appeals to me. That surprises the shit out of me because a Connie isn’t something I’d automatically reach for.
It looks like another stick is going to lose its place on my Current Go-Tos list.
Now the activity starts.
Secondary flavors begin rotating, flashing in and out of view as the profile darkens again. The creamy texture thickens enough to push body over medium-plus, and this time, strength also notches slightly upward. It catches me by surprise, and I’m like a deer in the headlights.
The sweetness on the finish has morphed into burnt sugar. A fruity sweetness enters next, immediately followed by cinnamon and allspice. Cream is king now and has become pervasive, smoothing out the entire profile, especially on the finish. The spice has stopped dancing and is firmly planted on the roof of my mouth.
As I get into the last couple of inches, just like that, the show ends as the profile compresses. There’s no reduction in the flavor notes. They’re all still there, just milling around.
Body is now full as I exhale thick, white, opaque clouds of smoke with each puff. Cream still reigns supreme, but spice is vying for the throne. It isn’t overwhelming, so I don’t think it’s going to take over.
Spiciness has always been a key characteristic of Connies for me, and this cigar is showing that in spades, but it has none of that classic Connie harshness.
There’s nothing harsh about this smoke whatsoever.
Is this a flavor bomb? No. There’s a lot of content in the profile, but the balance and smoothness keep it from reaching flavor-bomb status. That isn’t a negative mark at all.
Strength creeps up just a tiny bit as coffee begins asserting itself. It’s a dark espresso with a little bite that settles on the sides of my tongue, separate from the spice that remains planted on the roof of my mouth.
As I reach the last inch, I’m drinking a latte as the cream and coffee join forces. They’re prominent enough to mask the other flavors, though they have little effect on the sweet finish. It’s flattened a bit, but it’s still there.
Then I get a hit of nicotine and strength moves to medium-plus. The profile compresses a little further, and I’m starting to feel the pressure.
This cigar is a little trickster. It starts out happy and bright, cruising along and collecting flavors, then gets to this point and makes me thankful I had dinner before smoking it. Want to be mean? Give one to a friend who hasn’t eaten and see if they turn green when they reach the last inch.
At the nub, there’s a slight transition as pronounced dark brown sugar suddenly steps forward. It does this under quite a bit of compression, like the cigar is saying it isn’t going to quit just because I’m almost done.
Even the burnt sugar lightens in tone. The spice has moved to the tip of my tongue, almost pushed there by the latte like a redheaded stepchild.
I make my first burn correction as I stick it on my PerfecDraw. Amazing.
This has been an absolutely pleasing experience.
Damn! Another hit. The Pospiech brothers really knocked it out of the park with this line.
I’m going to review the Maduro in a couple of days, and I can confidently say it’s every bit as good as the Connecticut and Habano. Given that, I’ll probably just point readers to the general Smoke This Trust Me page in my Current Go-Tos instead of replacing another cigar.
I recommend the entire line.
I really dig this program. Yes, it helps brick-and-mortar shops, but these aren’t just shop cigars, and you don’t have to grade them on a curve because they’re inexpensive. All three blends have been built with obvious intent. Having the entire line come out this good is a boon for us smokers.
Buy any of this great lineup of cigars from CigarHustler.com.
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