Chag Urim Sameach!
My Father No. 2 Belicoso
Ecuadorian Habano w/ Criollo (hybrid) wrapper
5 1/2 x 54
The band is decadently and garishly gorgeous. It features pink, get over it. Pink happens to be my favorite flavor. I'm put in mind of Manischewitz matzoh. At its onset it was a frowned upon form of the stuff. Mass produced cheaply and highly suspect in the kosher eyes of Rabbis. It was boxed to impress the poor folk in a way they saw wealthy embellishment -- again, garish. The design of the original box was modeled after a cigar box, actually. There's a fun fact.
The poor ate their matzoh, the rich frowned, and all were happy in what each did.
Squeezing the Charmin like the rebel I is, the loose-looking foot is confirmed by a -medium density softness that readily springs back and is even throughout. Schnoz gives me cocoa, molasses, and sweet grasses at the barrel and from the foot I pick up notes of sweet spices, woods both hard and evergreen, I swipe the cap off with a deadly stroke of my Mighty Mite Old Timer and a cold draw of -medium resistance gives me flavors of sweetly spiced cocoa, cedar, and some nice java.
Wood and finally my first dose of black pepper come at me off the toasting foot. First hot draw is cedar resting on oak. There's a blast of quickly-fleeting BBQ that surprises me and then is gone. Interdesting...
Second pull is retro-haled to copious black pepper which lays on the tongue with a trace of cayenne. Very woodsy notes and very much of delineated oak and cedar. The oak steers and the cedar shines, but it's hard to tell if the oak is driving from behind the wheel, or from the back seat -- there's a swirling of the two notes. Third hot draw introduces a barnyard almost livestock vibe, even a saddle.
Smoke pours freely in heavy grey-ish clouds that are kind on the eyes insofar as not irritating. Ash is medium grey to charcoal and not as dense as I'd like, but totally forseeable off the looser packing. Burn-line is thin+ and it wobbles a bit but not terribly. I lit up on my porch, so we'll givve it a beat or two to even out on its own accord.
Nice mouthfeel of medium+ weight and perfect moisture. Black pepper comes up a tick and though the cayenne falls off, my tongue is still a nice tingle. Palate is smooth and mainly coffee brewed on a campfire.
ACT IOn the draw, an oaken core is backed by a well oiled leather. Primary notes are cedar and unsweetened mocha sans creme. There is a separate toasted cream on the mouth-feel that lends to a medium+ and possibly growing body. Secondary flavors are of barnyard, fresh cut grass, occasional floral notes. A occasional molasses shows, too -- but with less frequency than the floral notes and neither are very frequent. I dig the barnyard notes, there is much in there; the least of which is a mature inherent sweetness which doesn't depend on the oft AWOL molasses.
Burn has evened some but has yet to perfect itself. A seam loosens a tick ahead of the burn. Pack holds its firmness. Profile is a medium+ in terms of aforementioned body and flavors, but strength is a good tick and a half behind--something I ain't complaining about. Burn is moderately fast-paced and I'm wondering if I'll get an hour's smoke. Some flaking is appearing on the ladder-runged ash.
A vegetal note comes inon the draw and on the foot-smoke, as well. It finds the leather and wood there and gathers with my smoke-hole out-put to make a dense and kind roomnote that feels just outdoorsy. It's a familiar note--I camped out once. Ash clumps off at an inch tops and misses my schmatta. My new Chromebook! Why, I oughtta.
A full opening act with a large ensemble cast which felt somewhat rehearsed, but mainly well ad-libbed. I daresay a bit of direction might have improved the performance, but I'm givin' it the ol' standing O. (Albeit somewhat anticipatory.)
ACT III start with a retro-hale and the black pepper is very still there, but also there is a cumin immediately and then a mesquite BBQ vibe a few ticks later. This goes to the finish and meets with a slight mocha and grass note driven barnyard. It's a finish that is much less than the body of the profile and I'd like more legs, please. Burning very quickly through the center act. That thick vein is a slight hindrance to an even burn. Other than that, I'm seeing a mainly straight slightly ribbon'd burn with a thin+ line.
I once owned a 355 '75 LeMans I nicknamed "The Beast." When I floored it, I could see the gas gauge move down. Every time I pull, this My Father shortens. Samesies. There's almost always a loose seam ahead of the burn. Flavors are unchanged and body is down a beat. We picked up more, but somehows we got less. Still very enjoyable. I see, the black pepper muted. I smack my lips and too notice a steak has arrived before me. Lighter mouth-feel, but more chew. Very interesting. It's a bit dry in my craw and this offering begs for whisk(e)y. All I have is Manischewitz, oy vey!
Lots of cast, no direction -- or not enough. Everything I noted, sans black pepper is still on stage, but they're all Curly Howards and no one wants to play Moe. Cumin and chili powder really step up and are going at it with the mesquite over the BBQ. I can't focus on my steak, gentlepersons! Heck with it, whatta show! It's like I'm smoking the old Aristocrats joke being told by half a dozen blue comics at once. I re-touch the light at that vein.
Oils set in from off the leather in larger amounts and refine the mouthfeel. As the final act -- maybe the punchline? -- approaches. Ash clumps powdery onto my schmatta. It's a party and I'm firing up some Klezmer music! These rich folk throw a helluvan affair.
I duck inside a couple of minutes to get my fingerless gloves so my hands don't freeze while I play the squeeze box. The My Father remains ready to take a good hit and offer big smoke that warms me deep in my chest.
No change in flavor notes. Don't need it. Let's DANCE. It's the last night of Chanukah here in the furthest flung region of the Jewish Diaspora, all the comedians here are Jews; all the musicians either Jews or Gypsies who played our music as we were led to Concetration Camps so our tunes would not be a forgotten tune -- all Jewish holidays, the same. "They tried to kill us, they didn't, let's eat!"
The mesquite is charring on the grill, black pepper returns. Barnyard crisps on the back of wood notes. Espresso, Cumin -- pardon my french, it's a fucking crescendo! -- smoke pours BBQ notes in humongous plumes of grey. Vegetal is there, floral notes. I cannot keep up. I'm dancing as I type in my chair. Mouth-feel is perfect moisture and I'm kinda panting. Grass notes. Did I say leather? Nic notches up and my feet ain't on the ground, my tuchus not in the chair.
Still, there is no finish -- because there is, gentlepersons, NO END! L'chaim!!!
D A N C E
12.14.15 12noon Post (Pacific)
Buy the My Father No. 2 Belicosowitz HERE, from my pals at Cigars City.