Deep in flavor. Deep in your mind.


Om Mani Gold Label Connecticut - Cigar Review

This is not a review.
I am more professional that that.
This is a flight of fancy.
Allow me to explain, gentlepersons:
I receive many samples. I first strip them of their cello. I then chuck 'em in my freezer, then fridge, then humidor. There they then rest a bit -- say a week. That there is my modus operandi. I only got to step one with this Om Mani. The hand-feel caught me. Smooth suede. Then the nose. A perfumed musk.

I tucked this Connie aside and processed the others. It's 10pm and a light late summer rain falls alongside my Pacific Northwest porch. The house is asleep. Oh, but this is about

Om Mani
Gold Label Connecticut Toro
w. Ecuadorian
b. Ecuadorian
f. Dominican & Peruvian
[In order of appearance] White pepper, coarsely ground. Cedar, cocoa buttery. Salt. Nuts, boiled peanuts and macadamia, with a slight and lingering bitter attachment. Dirt, sun-drenched. Canella bark, with a hint of vanilla. White tea. Caramel. Graham flour. Flowers, white and tropical. Fruit, Honeydew, not quite ripe. Wine, dry white.

Flavors -Medium
Body: Light+
Strength: low

Smooth and satiating medium tension'd draw throughout. Soft texture. Big smoke out-put off both ends, culminating in a sweet nutty tobacco room-note with a perfumed lilt. Even burn on a -medium thick line. Ash is heather with medium-grey marblings stacked on in tight ladder-rungs. Seams and medium+ pack density hold throughout. Pacing is slow and steady.
I'll review fully in a couple of weeks time. There is some bitterness (nuts and canella) mentioned above which I feel will settle. There is another Connie, two Maduro, and two barber-poles in my freezer -- now taking on the taste of a block of meatloaf from 2011. The rain has stopped, but it sure smells nice out here.

Inside the band, a printed message tells me that The Buddha tells me to relax. Not to worry. I'm Jewish. I'll worry to the grave and beyond, thanks just the same. It's in the genes. Although, I feel as though if I smoke too many of these -- I'll be handing out flowers and pamphlets at an airport whilst wearing a robe.

Om mani padme hum. I start to chant. Mani changes to Mammy "The sun shines East, the sun shines West, but I know where the sun shines best." I sing loudly into the night air in my impeccable Al Jolson. Oy vey.