Wrapper: Cameroon (aged at least 3 years)
Binder: Dominican Republic
Filler: Dominican Republic, Nicaragua
Size: Torpedo (6 X 52)
Strength: Medium
Body: Medium → Medium-Plus (halfway)
Price: $51.78 / $45.03 (member price)
Factory: Undisclosed, Dominican Republic
Blender: Undisclosed
Release: 2023
Smoking Time: 1:45
Experience Rating: 99
I can’t decide whether NF Cigars is as secretive as Curivari or the cigar world’s Honey Badgers.
Think about it. The two founders are 30-year veterans of General Cigar who’ve already made their bones. They have nothing to prove. They have plenty of distribution in the Dominican Republic and have partnered with Cigar Page for their US distribution, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but their catalog is HUGE. Perhaps they’re satisfied with their sales.
From what I could find, they only make one cigar. Their only apparent marketing consists of occasional social media posts, so you pretty much have to stumble upon them. Finally, they’re completely uncommunicative.
So, are they secretive, or do they not give a shit? Who knows?
Given that, I’m not sure whether to be frustrated or pissed off. But one thing I do know: the V Decada is an awesome cigar.
Like the Toro, the Torpedo is a gorgeous cigar. The blue-and-gold band conveys quiet sophistication, and the mottled, toothy wrapper looks like it’s been sitting for a while. The yellow-brown cello is a testament to that. Construction is solid, with no soft spots and a dense pack, especially around the head.
The aromas are rather unremarkable: tobacco sweetness and dry grass from the wrapper, subtle dried fruit and sweet bread from the foot. I clip about 3/8″ off the end, and the draw is perfect. The cold draw is similarly understated, offering mostly tobacco sweetness and a little hay.
Espresso, malt, cedar, cream, and a touch of black pepper make for a solid, confident start. A gentle spice alights on the sides of my tongue, with strength and body each at a solid medium. Still, I can’t help but think, “Been there, done that.” Don’t get me wrong. It’s incredibly delicious, but it’s not necessarily unique.
In the first inch, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a touch of cardamom arrive. Nice. A delicious white pepper resolves into herbaceous green peppercorn, while cedar steps forward and begins gathering a thematic core around it. Sweet, dark toffee settles at the back of my tongue, persisting through the finish. This is getting lovely. That familiar start is shaping into something right in my wheelhouse.
My saliva has wetted the head enough to restrict the draw, so I slice off another 2mm to get the airflow going again.
Moving through the first half, the cigar still seems to be gathering its flavors. It hasn’t displayed much complexity yet, though I get the sense that it has more in store. It has certainly found its footing, with cedar, cream, and baking spices forming the core, supported by green peppercorn, malt, and light coffee.
A light richness puts the cigar’s Dominican roots on full display. I feel the small Nicaraguan component is there simply to provide structure. But make no mistake. This is a Dominican flavor profile, and I’m loving that there’s none of the usual DR drift, where profiles can be all over the place. Everything here is nicely structured and organized.
An accounting of the flavor notes wouldn’t suggest much complexity, yet there’s an implicit energy I can’t quite put my finger on. It gives me that familiar giddy feeling I get when I’m smoking a great cigar. My mind wanders to the bank of a slowly moving brook, fishing pole in the water, a glass of great bourbon in hand. It’s kind of like the scene from the Charleston episode with Sean Brock on Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown, where they’re fishing off a dock and sipping some old Weller.
When I bring my attention back to the cigar, I sense a dynamic tension between the core, the spice, and that toffee sweetness on the finish. They seem to be circling each other, like an atom’s elements in an excited state. It creates space and generates tons of energy.
At the halfway point, a hit of sweet, Southern-style black tea takes me to Southeast Texas, sipping iced tea in the humid heat. Man, that’s delicious and refreshing. The body has thickened to a nice medium-plus, while the strength remains pegged at medium. The energy persists, and I’m just riding it, admittedly paying little attention to individual flavor notes because I’m enjoying this immensely.
As I move into the second half, sweet bread, shortbread cookies, and raisin bread greet me. Coffee steps forward in the core and immediately dances with the spice, which intensifies slightly. Then cedar and cream lead another change as the toffee sweetness moves to the roof of my mouth. It’s almost as if the energy is taking shape. Uncanny.
The profile morphs back to baked goods, now joined by the baking spices, while the spice itself sits on the tip of my tongue. Then comes sweet tea with a little charred cedar. This is transition city from puff to puff, and the changes keep coming at a rapid pace.
I’m going to continue riding it, but I feel like Dave in that psychedelic Stargate scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey.
I saw it at the drive-in with my folks when I was six. Back then, drive-ins were a thing for my family. My mom would make a big bag of popcorn, and my dad would turn the back of our Rambler Ambassador station wagon into a bed for my sister and me. They never took us to kids’ movies. They were counting on us to fall asleep soon after the movie started.
That night, I couldn’t fall asleep, though I remember being bored out of my mind. It was a Kubrick movie. What six-year-old would be interested in that? Then Dave started hurtling through the Stargate. The wailing voices and psychedelic imagery scared the shit out of me, and I buried my head in the blankets.
Yeah, there’s a lot going on. Like Dave, I can only sit there and hang on.
Finally, in the last couple of inches, the energy abates enough to give me some respite. Cedar chars and toffee resolves into burnt sugar, darkening the core. Strength hasn’t increased, but the spice spreads through my mouth, expanding the profile.
Raisin bread and ripe plum float on the surface, giving the foreground a fruity turn, while floral notes appear on the retrohale. Even as the core darkens, the profile feels light and lifted. It’s almost as if the cigar refuses to settle down. It has simply slowed, with its power and energy still present.
The transitions continue into the last inch, though less frequently. Definitely not a Stargate ride now. The whole profile takes a dark turn, but super-ripe berries step forward enough that I don’t sense any compression. Incredibly delicious.
Then cacao comes out of nowhere and immediately attaches itself to the core. WTF? It’s like eating chocolate-covered berries. Damn!
That chocolate-covered berry note becomes pervasive at the nub, keeping the cigar delicious and energetic to the end.
What’s remarkable to me is how entirely different this experience has been from the Toro. The toffee connects them, and both have incredible energy, but the Torpedo expresses it in a wholly unique way. This has been a study in how ring gauge and vitola can present completely different faces of a cigar.
You can buy these at Cigar Page, which, for now, is the only place in the US to get them. They only have fivers of the Torpedo, so I reached out to CP customer support to see whether they’ll restock boxes. According to the support rep, they’re not going to replenish any of their stock. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. Hopefully, NF finds another US retailer.
Leave a comment