Friday, June 5, 2015

Romeo y Julieta 1875 Review

Understated. Subtle. Confident. On this Belmont Eve of a Sabbath, my Sabbath stick is like tomorrow's odds-on favorite, American Pharoah - perfectly fine letting the race play out in front of him and easily and smoothly closing at the end. We hope and we shall see.

The Cigar:
Romeo y Julieta 1875 Reserve Bully Sumatra Robusto
With its Cuban bloodlines, a cult following of celebrities such as Winston Churchill, and a name bearing the greatness of Shakespeare - it's no wonder this stogie has class. If I wasn't already dolled up for the Sabbath, I'd have put on the nines to secure this one in my smoke-hole.

Pre-light the wrap is lovely, the pack even as even can be, and the nose is complex but not ham-fisted. You can find here whatever you have the presence of mind to look for. There is a nice cream that lightly graces my palate pre-bite off.

The First Third begins with an easy light which releases a plume of well medium smoke. It is most welcome and departs before it borders on over-staying. Take note, mother-in-laws everywhere.

Notes of vanilla cream with an undertone of leathery earthiness. There is pepper too, but mainly in the finish, lending it to end crisply on the palate instead of lingering in cheap sweetness.

Sweetness is there, but in a dignified and mature manner. It comes in on the back of earthy tones and leaves in perfect time on the back of those peppery notes that have now evolved into finer spices. As the stick gets heated up, cedar emerges.

The ash is tight and the burn even.

There is a slight catch on my throat but that's probably just the cancer. I find myself not wanting my Sabbath Stick to ever end.

The ash clumps off at the 3/4" mark in much of a surprise, but I'm on my porch and wind might well have played a role. The burn remains even, as the first third comes to a mellow yet uncluttered close with each note clearly delineated and balanced and that has me looking forward to

The Second Third: my brain floats off and I skip a puff or two as I think of the day. A rare Pacific Northwest sunny day that has me well browned and heated into calmness. The undemanding 1875 is there waiting for me at my own leisure and offers up some sweeter tones now which linger on my palate a tad longer but are well welcomed to stay.
The burn is becoming uneven, but wind, man. Also, Jim crack corn I don't care.

The smoke this stick puts out is on the robust side and is absolutely divine. I want to use it as an air freshener in my house, but divorce is a rich man's game - so it's the porch for me and my RyJ. It strikes me that some cigars make you want to talk to a friend. This is not one of those. It's smoke has hung gone fishing signs in both of my eyes.

I am either 140 years or around 40 minutes into this stogie. I figger it ain't quite the halfway point.

Despite the uneven burn, it has clumped off at just once. Whoops! Now twice, as we begin to stare down the

Final third. We near the top of the stretch, I take a sip of Diet Coke, a remnant of my Sabbath splurge supper I eat each week in preparation of the Queen. This stick seems set to finish like any good horse - with plenty of kick.

The draws have grown quite warm and the smoke has grown quite thicker. The catch in my throat has increased. All remains, however, quite debonair. I contemplate an ascot, horsemanship, and a private nurse. Another clump falls into my lap.

The notes now turn from spices back to pepper, which induces some spit. Can spit be seen as debonair? Can wrongs be done rightly? Is that Madefromlucky coming up on our tail? I thought he'd fall back at the stretch to take show at the wire...

Sometimes a cigar lasts too long. Sometimes a horse does not last long enough. Perhaps the Arkansas Derby proved too much. Or, perhaps the last of this Romeo y Julieta is a proud return to sweetness...it is. It similes in cedar as American Pharaoh finds another gear, one for the ages. 

(Alas, I find no chew here, the one lacking item of this fine cigar. It simply crumbles back into history.)

The three races which form the triple Crown were inaugurated thusly in different years, the last being the first, the Kentucky Derby in 1875. I can't help but wonder if I've known that all along. You see, I'm often quite sharp and with spicey tones all my own.

I light two candles, burp up pizza, and soak in the peace of it all.