THE CIGAR
My Father CigarsLe Bijou 1922
6 1/8 x 52 torpedo box-press
w. Nicaraguan Habano Oscuro (Pelo De Oro)
b./f. Nicaraguan
A full review of this offering can be read HERE.
A K A P L O W I T Z Scale review can be read HERE.
All 18 Sabbaths (& more re: the project) can be read HERE.
This offering and the remaining are courtesy of Cigars City and my mad March Madness skills.
I
Over the hump and into the second half of these 18 Sabbaths, gentlepersons. I must say, I am always surprised whenst I exhibit stick-to-it-ivness. Lotsa black pepper with an accompanying heavily toasted black bread note. Nice chocolate bread type stuff too and separately so. First thing I notice other than taste is that the top-leaf seems a bit loose on the binder. A fitted bed-sheet, post-romp. Overall, the packing is softer than is usual. Draw is fairly open and line is correcting on its lonesome off an out-doors Bic torching. I cut with a Xikar Xi2 prior. Chocolate is deserting up and a darkly toasted cream is setting in. Wood. Sarsaparilla. Toasted cream is pushing up the wood-cum-cedar, seasoned. Under-belly is a rich compost doused with syrupy espresso. I taste nuts (that's what she said). A tick of that somewhat loose top-leaf needs a lick of Bic flame; betters.
Chewy mouth-feel sets in. Finish is long chocolate cream with a black pepper niceness. A lilt of citrus is on the immediate draw. A vibe of tropical fruit and flower stuffs find the start of finish. Ash is a hair flaky sheath and marbled palest grey/silver. Chocolate and a softening black bread breed decadence. Lettuce say full-bodied. Medium+ flavored. Medium strength'd. Sarsaparilla is a sweet syrup with an added molasses. Draw tightens a tick but is still in the medium realm of resistance and still more open than per usual. Burn is almost perfected.
"Keep checking into www.kaplowitz.xyz, your home on the web for this sorta thing."
"Have you Kaplowitz'd today?"
Creme brulee and the French chef is a firebug. The entirety of the first and some of the second act, dumps on my Chromebook keyboard. The room-not is a bit alkaline. It's on my tongue, too. Not bad, jut notable, thus noted and therefore notated. Packing density ain't dense by a long-shot. Rather spongy, actually. More crust on the bread. Woods: cedar and oak... seasoned and creamy, respectively. Nuts are not distinguishing themselves. My sources notify me that Tom Cruise detects that same alkaline bit on the room-note. He's a super-hero now, ya know. He can smell stuff from miles away. Seems he just leveled up his Scientology. Good for him. My smoke must be blowing south-bound to LA. I wish I was.
Grain! Barley, to be meticulously accurate... toasted. Compost is sweetening with that molasses going there. Combustion is a bit odd here; the leaves seem loosely packed and the new burnt offerings are aerated. A seam loosens at char-point. Draw becomes a tick less satiating. Black pepper really picks up here, and with it the strength. Full profile and a medium + strength. Leather is upon us. As the secondary band looms nigh, the burn is as straight as it ever was -- a slight ribbon. Red pepper now. Tingle heightens on me smoke-hole. My sources tell me that Tom tells them that the peppers can be sniffed on the room-note now, in a slight sharpening. I tell my sources to tell Mr. Cruise he is indeed correct.
Here we sit as the second act winds down and thus begins --
Sharp peppers, charred wood, and bubbly cola. I can't wait for the band. Now there's something you never hear at a KISS concert these days. Body is thinning and is now a medium+. Flavors, as they were, are a -full. Strength is a medium+? Mouth-feel is like sucking on a hot pre-'82 penny (copper). Seams and draw hold, but the shaft is squish. Smoke heats up.
I'm a pilot. There is severe turbulence. I look over to my co-pilot. He's gone! "Where'd Sully go?" I ask the stewardess. "Honey, I don't now." He answers, snaps his fingers three times in a sassy Z formation. Oh, here's the band. I ease up on the controls. Weird. The band sorta looks like the side of a mountain...
L'shalom
Chewy mouth-feel sets in. Finish is long chocolate cream with a black pepper niceness. A lilt of citrus is on the immediate draw. A vibe of tropical fruit and flower stuffs find the start of finish. Ash is a hair flaky sheath and marbled palest grey/silver. Chocolate and a softening black bread breed decadence. Lettuce say full-bodied. Medium+ flavored. Medium strength'd. Sarsaparilla is a sweet syrup with an added molasses. Draw tightens a tick but is still in the medium realm of resistance and still more open than per usual. Burn is almost perfected.
II
Black cherry. A muling spice which is coarsely ground in rustic fashion and the citrus therein, as before, is wet. A wedge of 'range. Espresso is a mocha latte. Chocolate, dark and rich remains a separate note entirely. Black bread is further away and the profile is quite a wide landcape, gentlepersons. Sometimes folks ask if I really sense all these things. I reply, "Always great to hear from a fan.""Keep checking into www.kaplowitz.xyz, your home on the web for this sorta thing."
"Have you Kaplowitz'd today?"
Creme brulee and the French chef is a firebug. The entirety of the first and some of the second act, dumps on my Chromebook keyboard. The room-not is a bit alkaline. It's on my tongue, too. Not bad, jut notable, thus noted and therefore notated. Packing density ain't dense by a long-shot. Rather spongy, actually. More crust on the bread. Woods: cedar and oak... seasoned and creamy, respectively. Nuts are not distinguishing themselves. My sources notify me that Tom Cruise detects that same alkaline bit on the room-note. He's a super-hero now, ya know. He can smell stuff from miles away. Seems he just leveled up his Scientology. Good for him. My smoke must be blowing south-bound to LA. I wish I was.
Grain! Barley, to be meticulously accurate... toasted. Compost is sweetening with that molasses going there. Combustion is a bit odd here; the leaves seem loosely packed and the new burnt offerings are aerated. A seam loosens at char-point. Draw becomes a tick less satiating. Black pepper really picks up here, and with it the strength. Full profile and a medium + strength. Leather is upon us. As the secondary band looms nigh, the burn is as straight as it ever was -- a slight ribbon. Red pepper now. Tingle heightens on me smoke-hole. My sources tell me that Tom tells them that the peppers can be sniffed on the room-note now, in a slight sharpening. I tell my sources to tell Mr. Cruise he is indeed correct.
Here we sit as the second act winds down and thus begins --
III
Sharp sharpening of sharpness. A tick diesel-y. Ash darkens precisely four (4) ticks. Flavors are hidden by bite. Was this cigar ever a box-press? My tongue hurts. Throaty like a bullfrog looking for a mate. I'm getting a bit of carbonation vibe from the sarsaparilla -- 'cept it's cola now. Nuts are almond, burnt. Leather is crisp on account of being held over a cedar fire. Cayenne joins the peppers. Black bread is burning in an oaken (sans cream) oven. Charred, scorched, what gives? Ever leave a frozen pepperoni pizza in the oven too long? Me too. Don't tell my Rabbi. At least not now, the High Holy Days are here and she's terribly busy.Sharp peppers, charred wood, and bubbly cola. I can't wait for the band. Now there's something you never hear at a KISS concert these days. Body is thinning and is now a medium+. Flavors, as they were, are a -full. Strength is a medium+? Mouth-feel is like sucking on a hot pre-'82 penny (copper). Seams and draw hold, but the shaft is squish. Smoke heats up.
I'm a pilot. There is severe turbulence. I look over to my co-pilot. He's gone! "Where'd Sully go?" I ask the stewardess. "Honey, I don't now." He answers, snaps his fingers three times in a sassy Z formation. Oh, here's the band. I ease up on the controls. Weird. The band sorta looks like the side of a mountain...
EDITOR'S NOTE
Written prior to the Sabbath, automatically posted during. Gut Shabbos, gentlepersons... happy Saturday, goyim. L'shalom