1:55pm
I am freshly returned home from Synagogue and prepared fully for the 9th of Av (lack of) festivities. Solemn is the word of the day. All other days: bird.
I am dedicating this post to the memories of my son Henry Kaplowitz, and my father Herbert Kaplowitz. Please feel free to dedicate your reading of this post to the memories of those you have loved and will continue to love onward into and through eternity.
The Cigar:
El Rey del Mundo
El Secreto del Rio Jagua
Connecticut Broadleaf wrapper, Maduro
Honduras binder & filler
Parejo shaped 7.25 x 47 Corona Inmensa
El Rey del Mundo translates, of course, to a whale's vagina. No. That ain't right. It actually translates to the wonderfully humble, "The King of the World." At one time, these cigars actually were. In that the brand was considered the greatest in the world, circa mid-late 1800s and as far as expense and prestige.
The brand of Rey del Mundo I have in front of me now, however, does not share those well-lauded roots, per se -- like Punch, there is a Cuban company, and a non-cuban company which goes by the Rey del Mundo name. This stick I'm speaking of currently is an offering by way of Honduras via the Villazon family.
Most and most easily notable is the rather creamy complexion this stick has, as compared to the majority of other Maduros I've seen. Construction wise, it's a loose and mostly even pack with somewhat heavy veins and imperfect seams. Somewhat rough hewn, but not terrible and well in keeping with character and not character flaw.
To the nose, there is simply and rather elegantly, tobacco of the honduran variety with its innate sweetness.
The footer band is a nice touch and the style of the cigar band proper is both regal and nearly self-effacing all at once -- it's pure genius. Faux class, whether meaning to be, or not. Best band I've seen in many a moon.
Light:
The light is splendid and I am down to my last two cedar spills. Razor edge even burn out of the gate. First couple few pulls show nutty oils, good amounts of cream, and traces of vanilla. Somewhat of a warm leather nose with a surprisingly light fruit honey dew to the finish. It's a long finish, at that, and a pleasantly dainty one.
1/3:
Fruity. Fruity and, again given the Maduro factor, surprisingly light. There is body here, however, carried on a sweet spice note. The general consensus here is medium to full, but I'd say well over to and into, medium. Between the fruit and cinnamon nutmeg notes, I am put in mind of harvest. So far, this smoke is as easy and forgiving as your Thanksgiving elastic waistband pants. Why do you insist on doing that to yourself?
The ash piles up well packed and a tad on the flaky side (San Fransisco) of town (Bay Bridge).
The wrapper, which I am convinced is far more Connecticut shade than is Maduro, is showing some potential issues by way of a light crack near the stick's final third midriff.
Well into the first third, and with the second right around the corner, Predominant notes are sweet spices and a now heavier red fruit. These are backed in leather and roasted macadamia flavors. The finish calls for a snifter of cognac.
The smoke output is pleasantly sweet but not of a tremendous volume, and is at risk of my calling it wispy.
The draw tightens, not loosens, as we heat fully and a sour note -- red grapefruit -- appears as we cruise, gentlepersons, into the
I meet the second third on a hurried trip to the tray, as I clump off for the first time in rather powdery fashion. I retouch the burn and it evens out well enough. The red grapefruit lays long on the finish and I don't know how I feel about that. The more complex sweet spices have muted or abandoned. The roasted macadamia is still somewhat there and I am popping them in my mouth, one at a time, as I carry them in a baseball mitt. Look at me! I'm a quirky little leaguer Right Fielder (Left Out). Sunflower seeds are so last century.
What once yelled for cognac seems gone, but I'd still like a snifter full of the stuff. The wrapper is well cracked now, but the damage seems under control and superficial. My good friend Mr. Toothpick pays a visit and brings with him a more full draw as I grab him and stuff one of his pointy ends down the stogie.
At the end of the second third, the fruit notes have went from sour to dried and the remaining notes of sweet spices have become earthy and somewhat dark. Finally, the honduran tobacco takes center stage and baker's chocolate appears with a hint of well-brewed coffee.
All told a very nice, if not entirely smooth, evolution into depth. A cigar not overwhelmed by its Maduro bent. Too, a very nice chew is developing.
The crack stretches a bit but I ain't never been afraid.
Well into the final third now and not much has changed since the end of the second. Barring the unforeseeable -- which by definition, I do not see -- Ima ride this out and talk to ya inn a bit...
Notes:
3:15pm (-ish)
"5.25%? OK."
"I think the ham's still good."
"I do."
-- Other times I should have been afraid.
Man was that a rush. The stick really came apart at the end, and I got to feeling like Indy running from that huge rolling boulder.
Call me Indy, 'cuz I made it. Barely.
At the end of the day, this El Rey del Mundo stick strikes me as a jack-of-all-trades -- master of none.
Pairings:
Cognac through the first half, well worn fedora for the second. Bullwhip optional throughout. Coffee wasn't it, man.
Final Grade: C+
Epilogue:
The sun is setting, I'm getting set to eat a light meal in preparation of fasting on the morrow. All the best to you all, my friends.