WRAPPER: Cameroon/Connecticut Shade
BINDER: Dominican
FILLER: Mexican, Dominican
FORMAT: Petit Robusto (4.5x49) Barber-pole
ORIGIN: General Cigar Dominicana
INTENSITY: Medium
::: PRELIGHT :::
The barber pole is fashioned so that the lighter CT leaf is far more slender. There is some variance in that slimness, but not to any egregious extent. Examining from the cap down to the foot now, I see there are some lumps in the uneven head. It does, however, lie nicely on toward the shoulder. Through my new glasses with the amplification of a magnifying glass, I can only swear to a double-cap, not triple. Now I'm dizzy. Great.
The Cameroon top-leaf has a subtle sheen to it. Some small veins, nicely-tight seams. Scant to nil tooth. Making my slow, tedious, not fun to read way on-down to the cigar's foot; it's kinda just a matte finish brown, brown. Crayon brown. Think: brown. Like brown shoes. That's the Cameroon. For the Connecticut, think khaki pants. At the foot, there's not much by way of blonde highlights and nothing via brunette streaks. Now to bring into play the ol' schnozzola...
Muted cigar notes on the barrel and even less of them at the foot. Leathery earthiness with a sweet-savory vibe. It's time to cut and light and this cut and light segment of our program is brought to you by no one. I cut the cap off with my trusty double-blade guillotine and take a cold draw. It's a bit tight at first then frees-up a degree or two after a second snip. I'll call this user error but it is correct to take as little off the top as is possible. I'd rather take a careful pair of runs at it than lop off a tragic amount at once being all willy-nilly. Sweet cold draw. Milk chocolate, honey.
"What's your favorite treat, dear?" "Milk chocolate, honey." A COLD RETRO-HALE ADDS SALTED CARAMEL AND IS AN INSANE PRACTICE TO PARTAKE IN. I now notice that the hand-feel is a bit drier than I'd suppose according to visual cues. The thing is ::: very ::: firmly-rolled, with no soft nor hard spots (or the whole cigar is a hard spot). Feels like work leather scraps and is brick shithouse solid. Well-balanced in the mitt, but that's easy since it's so diminutive. I think I actually get to light it now...
To light this Partagas, I have decided to employ one of the four (4) disposable lighters within my arm's reach. The purple one. Kinda maybe lavender. The soft mainly orange flame slowly, surely gets the job done on the densely-rolled maybe stubborn leaves. Might have to give an almost immediate re-touch but the first one, when fresh out of the gate, is on the house. No ding as to grading. I'll go ahead and do that. A tick of Cameroon begrudgingly ignites.
We're a hair-bit jagged as to burn-line right off the bat but coming along well and almost smoothing out quickly 'nuff. A retro-hale is a peppery affair with some red spices, in an indistinguishable manner. Drops to the palate sweetly, dustily. The profile starts heartily, predominantly earthen with dark sweet notes alongside the pepper-spice. About a half-inch in, caramel and white peppercorn distinguish themselves. Next is a glimpse of roasted orange before it becomes quickly candied instead.
You know those old-school gummy orange candies that look like wedges/segments? I'm thinking they're sort of a Winco bulk candy if that helps. That. And a brightening of this still dusty profile. Salt comes in and carries with it a slight flinty nod. Then cedar, buttery but also a half-bit green. Nice delineation then, at an inch in. That much ash stays stacked on in a kinda flaky way. Pale. Pale and flaky. I remember hearing recently that White Men Can't Jump had some sort of an anniversary.
So this Woody Harrelson--I mean Partagas--now cocoa butter is doing its level-darnedest to check the citrus happenings but is starting to already struggle there. I've noticed and noted during writing about this blend that it's only a matter of time before it skews sour. It is threatening early here. A new table sugar flows in and we got an ade of a drink. (Before that, the sugar was wearing off of the candy.) A clotted cream is running around in the back-ground, I don't want to say flailing but.
The cream left. That was quick. Burn-line is jagged and wavy but not in a way bad enough to warrant re-touch. Not that it'd accept it if I offered. Draw wobbles around in the slight+ resistance realm. Smoke out-put moves the same around moderate. Sandy pale leathery room-note. Aroma hits a little sour. The finish is sweet-sour and somewhat prickly. Acidic. Savoriness seems Gonesville. Golden hay. Oak shavings take over cedar.
I roll off the ash. It's quite dry on the inside and what's left on the stick is aerated some. Smoke out-put lulls. Is someone toasting white bread or am I having a stroke? I smell toast. I taste a medicinal orange--like baby aspirin but sweeter. Saccharine not sugar. I'm predominantly tasting that ahead of salt, oak, and kinda fuck else. Then (distantly) pale leather, chicken coop, and dust. An upright piano, rays of sunshine. Not a feather duster in sight.
The shoulder starts getting sucked down over the cap area and it's good to have a back-up profession, you know? Writing is a bit of a gamble. I'm at the half-way marker when I realize a split exists in the wrapper from the burn to about 3/4s of an inch on-down. White pepper barrels back into the picture. Peppercorn, then black pepper flakes. I can't get at the oak or any of those baking spices which I hadn't noticed until now had wandered off somewhere.
The primaries of medicinal orange, fake sugar, mainly white peppercorn mix, and salt, lurch ahead in a less than delineated and growingly linear fashion. Oak is back (I think) as the final-third looms ever-so nigh. You know when someone whispers in your ear, but they do it too loud, and the little fuzzy hairs in your canal tickle? THAT. Sorry, was I too loud?
Salted butter. That's the addition. All remaining notes are on a level-line. The back-end into the finish picks up some more dust and beach sand. That crack in the wrapper stays now at a half-inch ahead of burn and I can't quite catch it but there's no leak. There are some additional cracklings by the shoulder. I will say now that all notes have evened-out and the tart citrus is in somewhat lemony check. Loads of scorchy sunny pepper through the nose. Way after the goodly length'd finish, I find that white toast. Or have another small stroke.
The draw restricts a notch more now, as we approach the traditional band point. White pepper and lemon are neck-in-neck. Salt looks like it'll finish in show. The rest of the pack falls back and DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME... I rip up my ticket. I had a caramel and cedar exacta box. Thank goodness for that aforementioned back-up profession. I just need to rest a little first. I guess it's called gambling for a reason.
FINAL GRADE: B
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79
*Below is the schedule of this 'Partagas Project.' You have just read 7.
1. Intro (about the blend & project)
2. Review (Regular)
3. Review (Sherlock Holmes)
4. Review (Something quirky)
5. Review (Cigar Aficionado style)
6. Review (Limerick)
7. Review (Long-form)
8. Review (Flavor wheel)
9. Review (Kaplowitz Scale review)
10. Review (Doggeral poem)
11. Review (Primary tastes)
12. Overview
[PLEASE NOTE: regardless of which installment of this multi-post project you come in on, you can find the rest of the entries by employing the Search Kaplowitz Media. function to the right of your screen. Simply enter "Partagas Project." Thank you.]
"What's your favorite treat, dear?" "Milk chocolate, honey." A COLD RETRO-HALE ADDS SALTED CARAMEL AND IS AN INSANE PRACTICE TO PARTAKE IN. I now notice that the hand-feel is a bit drier than I'd suppose according to visual cues. The thing is ::: very ::: firmly-rolled, with no soft nor hard spots (or the whole cigar is a hard spot). Feels like work leather scraps and is brick shithouse solid. Well-balanced in the mitt, but that's easy since it's so diminutive. I think I actually get to light it now...
::: ACT I :::
We're a hair-bit jagged as to burn-line right off the bat but coming along well and almost smoothing out quickly 'nuff. A retro-hale is a peppery affair with some red spices, in an indistinguishable manner. Drops to the palate sweetly, dustily. The profile starts heartily, predominantly earthen with dark sweet notes alongside the pepper-spice. About a half-inch in, caramel and white peppercorn distinguish themselves. Next is a glimpse of roasted orange before it becomes quickly candied instead.
You know those old-school gummy orange candies that look like wedges/segments? I'm thinking they're sort of a Winco bulk candy if that helps. That. And a brightening of this still dusty profile. Salt comes in and carries with it a slight flinty nod. Then cedar, buttery but also a half-bit green. Nice delineation then, at an inch in. That much ash stays stacked on in a kinda flaky way. Pale. Pale and flaky. I remember hearing recently that White Men Can't Jump had some sort of an anniversary.
So this Woody Harrelson--I mean Partagas--now cocoa butter is doing its level-darnedest to check the citrus happenings but is starting to already struggle there. I've noticed and noted during writing about this blend that it's only a matter of time before it skews sour. It is threatening early here. A new table sugar flows in and we got an ade of a drink. (Before that, the sugar was wearing off of the candy.) A clotted cream is running around in the back-ground, I don't want to say flailing but.
The cream left. That was quick. Burn-line is jagged and wavy but not in a way bad enough to warrant re-touch. Not that it'd accept it if I offered. Draw wobbles around in the slight+ resistance realm. Smoke out-put moves the same around moderate. Sandy pale leathery room-note. Aroma hits a little sour. The finish is sweet-sour and somewhat prickly. Acidic. Savoriness seems Gonesville. Golden hay. Oak shavings take over cedar.
::: ACT II :::
The shoulder starts getting sucked down over the cap area and it's good to have a back-up profession, you know? Writing is a bit of a gamble. I'm at the half-way marker when I realize a split exists in the wrapper from the burn to about 3/4s of an inch on-down. White pepper barrels back into the picture. Peppercorn, then black pepper flakes. I can't get at the oak or any of those baking spices which I hadn't noticed until now had wandered off somewhere.
The primaries of medicinal orange, fake sugar, mainly white peppercorn mix, and salt, lurch ahead in a less than delineated and growingly linear fashion. Oak is back (I think) as the final-third looms ever-so nigh. You know when someone whispers in your ear, but they do it too loud, and the little fuzzy hairs in your canal tickle? THAT. Sorry, was I too loud?
::: ACT III :::
The draw restricts a notch more now, as we approach the traditional band point. White pepper and lemon are neck-in-neck. Salt looks like it'll finish in show. The rest of the pack falls back and DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME... I rip up my ticket. I had a caramel and cedar exacta box. Thank goodness for that aforementioned back-up profession. I just need to rest a little first. I guess it's called gambling for a reason.
FINAL GRADE: B
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79
*Below is the schedule of this 'Partagas Project.' You have just read 7.
1. Intro (about the blend & project)
2. Review (Regular)
3. Review (Sherlock Holmes)
4. Review (Something quirky)
5. Review (Cigar Aficionado style)
6. Review (Limerick)
7. Review (Long-form)
8. Review (Flavor wheel)
9. Review (Kaplowitz Scale review)
10. Review (Doggeral poem)
11. Review (Primary tastes)
12. Overview
[PLEASE NOTE: regardless of which installment of this multi-post project you come in on, you can find the rest of the entries by employing the Search Kaplowitz Media. function to the right of your screen. Simply enter "Partagas Project." Thank you.]
::: very :::