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Don Rafa Cigars - Cigar Review

Don Rafa Cigars
7 x 50 Churchill
w. Ecuadorian
b./f. Nicaraguan
m. Esteli, Nicaragua

"Don Rafa is one of the world’s premier luxury cigars brands. Handcrafted in the Dominican Republic & Nicaragua, Don Rafa Cigars are made to the highest quality standards using only the supreme, most exceptional, aged tobaccos. Every detail, from meticulous wrapper selection to the complex processes of aging and blending, receives the utmost accommodation in the manufacture of each cigar."
The greasiest stick I recall trying to shoe-horn from its cello in maybe forever. Tight seams, minimal veins, lotsa espresso bean marbling on a Hershey's canvas with cinnamon under-hue. -firm packing with the slightest pinchability responding in a lively spring-back. Zilch hard/soft spots. Well balanced in my oiled mitt. Triple cap is precisely hewn. At the other are densely packed brownette leaves. Chocolate spices on schnozzing the shaft. I touch my nose to the oiliness and hope I don't get a pimple. Cold draw is a -full tension'd resistance and offers notes of candied almonds, nutmeg, and sweetly spiced cedar.

Picante and with a strength that's making my temples pulsate only a few draws in. Body is an oily leather and building nutty paste. Cream. Oy. One of those sticks that feels like it should come with caloric information to plug into my "I'll never be a fatty again" smartphone app. Brownie is the chocolate note, speaking of fat. Burn-line is missing on evening-out, I imagine due to its wrapper greez. Draw is still a -full resistance but shows signs of loosening. Profile is -full outta the gate, and we shall see how it wires. Still, I'm not getting the feeling of smoking on a dare -- it's quite a relaxing thing, this Don Rafa. Would be good to nightcap pair it with an evening distilled libation. Perhps oe made in a bathtub. Positively lip-smacking and heady in terms of flavors and strength. I would not pair it with walking -- or standing. Or tring two tipe an reeview'

Espresso with two inches of bitter crema a-top. Black pepper. Chili pepper. Roasted saltiness. An under-belly of black top-soil is being delivered another truck full. Body is developing a picante tongue tingle. Texture is motor oil. Ash is medium-grey marbling with toothy crystals a' silver. Dense and oily, but too cracked in a single spot of its sheath. Holds the entire opening act of burnt offerings, and I do not think I can convince it to do other-wise. A retro-hale is spice and peppers which fall to the palate as a chocolate caramel candy bar. Legs are so dang long I don't see wherest they end; all spice and sweet with a peppery nasal ghosting.

Strength dials back to a medium, as body hits the full mark. Flavors are medium+ with some dialing back of picante-nesses. Still a red-spice fest of nutmeg led cinnamon and cumin with chili and black pepper accompaniment. Leather has come up. Chocolate hath gone down. Enough rich top-soil to have a steroidal-looking rose garden of some notable size. Caramel is static. Through the schnoz on a retro-hale -- all pepper and spice and my Rabbi standing over me reciting a barucha as I curl up in the fetal position. Ah, luxury.

Some bit into the 2/3 I thunk off the heavy ash and do-so with the purpose of preventing tunneling and removing unneeded insulation of char. Nothing makes me think that may be an issue other than the thick, greeezeee top-leaf. I flick my Bic just in case. Ash is well paler now. line is not perfect, but comes outta the slight re-touch as perfect as its been. Flavors return to their -full heights. Smoke out-put, which had been on the low side of average, now hits the other end a' average. Room note is burnt nose hair and chocolate spices. Some rich leather. Packing is down to a medium+ with the same lively spring-back off the Charmin squeeze test. Draw is still mo' snug than I'd like. Finish is becoming mo' peppers than spice. Almond paste is soaring on draw. The over-all vision I get is red. I see red, gentlepersons. I am on my porch, facing my house. Oh. My house is red. Still...

At the mid-point, we hollow out and a re-touch bordering on re-light is mandated. Transition is toward a much more toasty profile with a very grain-forward delivery. A tanginess meets picante finish and tongue tingles like tongue tingling is goin' outta style. Style. I needed to restock my schmatta stock, for the first time in years, I went back to proper bandana from plain white -- will keep you gentlepersons posted. Grapefruit and pith, on-board... I'm speaking of the Don Rafa, again.

Mellower, but still a kick to ye olde tuchus. Another re-light. Another soon there-after on account a' petering out. Some coming-up of seams around char. Pack density down to a medium. Draw still tight-ish. I re-touch/light and have remembrances of playing chess with my father as his end-stage Parkinson's disease hampered the use of his hands. He'd tell me where to move his piece -- and win every-time. A suicide type of thing on my part -- here we go. Re-light. Much more chocolate now with a somewhat interfering red spice rack. Draw seems tighter and shoulder begins to loosen on account of me sucking the chrome from its fender.

Lotsa smoke now, it's just the Ecuadorian top-leaf is meow positively slimy. Or negatively slimy? I shall leave that to the philosophers in their ivory towers of academia. Alas, I bet they're all buzzed, too. At the band, it's more feels (body/strength) than notes (flavor), all hot hot hot -- tho temp-wise cool 'nuff. Must I type "picante" yet once more 'gain? I taste salsa. When Trump builds a wall, will ketchup regain its condiment king status? Will we all revert back, back to mayo? My Midwest experience is "You put mayonnaise on that, too?" The response was "Yes." The action was too often Miracle Whip. You ever eat a pastrami sammich slathered in Miracle Whip? Don't.

Petering out, again.

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