Wrapper: Cuban-seed Sun Grown / Nicaragua
Binder: Cuban-seed / Nicaragua
Filler: Cuban-seed / Nicaragua
Size: Epicure (6 x 54)
Strength: Medium
Body: Full
Price: $10.60–$11.75 (Single) / $49.90 (Pack of 5) / $225.60–$282.00 (Box of 24; U.S., varies by retailer)
Factory: Tabacalera Perdomo, Nicaragua
Blender: Nick Perdomo Jr.
Release: October 2015 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:40
Experience Rating: 95
You’ve got to hand it to Perdomo. They don’t do anything half-assed. It’s not overstated, but there’s nothing subtle about it either. At least they’re not pretentious about it.
Even the names of some of their cigars sound like formal Spanish noble litanies. Contessa María Morales Ruiz Gonzales y Gatía. By the time you finish saying the Perdomo Habano Bourbon Barrel-Aged Sun Grown Epicure, you almost expect someone to announce that it has arrived at court.
I’ve smoked this cigar a few times before, most recently a week ago, and my response has always been tepid at best. The way it presents itself is unique, and that hasn’t always sat well with me. But lately, I’ve been getting more interested in Habano and Connecticut-wrapped cigars, so I decided to give this one another chance. Instead of deciding all over again that I didn’t like it, I wanted to sit with it and figure out exactly what it was doing.
Perdomo cigars always look luxurious. I love the elaborate styling of their bands, and even the color schemes seem to match the wrappers beneath them. It’s a subtle touch that makes the entire presentation feel harmonious.
The smooth wrapper shines with so much oil that it almost looks deliberately coated. Its aroma is pure barnyard, while the foot offers a sweeter version of the same. The draw is perfect, carrying sweetness with just a hint of herbaceousness.
The opening is dark and immediate. Burnt oak, black pepper, dark, dark coffee, and charcoal arrive all at once. In the past, I’ve experienced this as an attack. This time, I recognize it as something different. It’s declarative and in your face, but not aggressive. The cigar simply has an imposing presence and wastes no time letting me know who it is.
Luckily, cream and subtle sweetness begin softening the rough edges after only a few puffs.
About an inch in, the cigar settles down, though it doesn’t become any less dark. Coffee, black pepper, and burnt oak remain at the core, but the charcoal disappears. Fresh-cut cedar and teak brighten the profile, while a sugary sweetness takes shape on the finish. A light red pepper spice rises with each puff, builds into the finish, and then slowly subsides. It moves as one long wave rather than pulsing against the palate.
With the opening no longer crowding everything else, the details begin to show themselves. Bay leaf, rosemary, and desert sage form an herbal layer. Nutmeg, cardamom, and a hint of cinnamon provide the baking spices, while grilled meat and morel mushroom bring a savory depth. The sweetness and red pepper spice on the finish lift the entire profile.
I never noticed any of this before. This cigar is very complex.
A couple of inches in, the body shoots to full. Smoke pours from the cigar in thick, copious clouds, and the mouthfeel becomes velvety, like I just drank some Baileys Irish Cream. The bourbon barrel aging is showing its influence, but the whiskey character isn’t thematic. It’s merely present, and integrated with the rest of the profile.
The surprise is the strength. That startling opening hinted at a strong cigar, but the darkness hasn’t translated into nicotine. It’s amazingly moderate.
Deep into the first half, everything feels as though it’s in its rightful place. I almost want to call the cigar composed, but that word feels too polished for what I’m smoking. There’s still a rawness to it, an underlying power lurking beneath the surface.
That power, though, is a little unsettling.
I now realize that this is where the cigar has lost me in the past. I kept waiting for that power to break loose and overwhelm everything else. Now that I know what to expect, I can enjoy the fact that it never does.
As I finish the first half, I realize I’m smoking a remarkable cigar. Its complexity hasn’t waned, but it never feels like an overt display of activity. The cigar isn’t showing off. It carries itself with such integrity and confidence that when it says it’s complex, I accept it. Thinking otherwise would be ridiculous.
Now that I understand it, I really like it. I’m also kicking myself for never taking a deeper look at it before.
To be honest, I chucked last week’s before I got through the first half. I was smoking it in 100-degree-plus Texas weather and had no business doing so. The experience wasn’t at all enjoyable. The bourbon influence was every bit as present then as it is today. The heat made me far more sensitive to it, leaving the whiskey character exposed and out of balance with everything around it.
Today, I’m smoking in Newport Beach during the late afternoon with a fresh sea breeze blowing. The bourbon hasn’t receded. Here, it feels integrated with the rest of the profile, and I’m really enjoying it.
The start of the second half serves me an entire bowl of roasted nuts: hazelnut, pecan, peanut, cashew, almond, and black walnut. They make the body feel even thicker, but they also bring some brightness as they interact with the spice. That combination keeps the darkness from becoming oppressive.
I get this profile now.
As I approach the last couple of inches, the burn rate slows way down. The body is super thick, and the spice is beginning to assert itself more forcefully. Yet the strength remains moderate. For all the weight and power this cigar projects, I still feel no effects from the nicotine. Meanwhile, the secondary layer is as complex as ever.
It’s like a gentle giant, although I want to be careful with the word “gentle.” This cigar doesn’t have a soft touch, but it also isn’t aggressive. It’s shown me its power from the first puff without ever using it against me.
I’m having a moment as I reach the last inch.
In Don’t Let Those Special Moments Pass You By, I mentioned that I was waiting for my new grandson to be born. He arrived at 5:15 this morning. It was a long haul for my daughter-in-law.
As I smoke this, I think about how well the cigar mirrors that experience. My grandson was the central force, all raw power and presence. Around him were the nurses, his parents, my wife and I, and our in-laws, forming the complex supporting layer that was there for his entry into this world.
Its dark core has never moved. The herbs, baking spices, savory notes, sweetness, woods, pepper, and roasted nuts have gathered around it, supporting that central force without diminishing it. What unsettled me before is the very thing holding the entire experience together.
Yup, this is a moment I’m savoring right now.
I’m not there yet, but I’m going to nub this cigar. It’s still rich and complex, but for now, I just want to revel in the feeling.
Before I even finished smoking, I started looking for deals on boxes and bundles. The Perdomo Habano Bourbon Barrel-Aged Sun Grown Epicure is going into my regular rotation. That’s how much I like it.
I’m not sure it’ll become one of my current go-tos, but it’s a cigar I want to have on hand when the mood is right. I just have to remember what happened in Texas. With all its darkness, this cigar doesn’t work for me in hot, humid weather.
It occupies a place similar to the Maduro version. I always keep a few of those on hand and smoke one every couple of months.
It’s better to have one and not need it than need one and not have it.
The best prices on these can be found at Cigar Page. Unfortunately they’re currently out of the Epicure. I will probably wait until they have them back in stock.
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