The term “Corojo” has been used to describe both a particular type of wrapper leaf and the style of a cigar. In the case of the Cusano Corojo, it’s a little of both.

The original corojo leaf was developed in Cuba on a plantation called Santa Ines del Corojo by agriculturalist Diego Rodriguez. This leaf became famous for its delicate and silky texture as well as its flavor and fine burning qualities. Genuine corojo was Cuba’s premier wrapper leaf for several decades.

But cultivation of corojo in Cuba came to a halt in the mid 90’s because the strain is highly susceptible to blue mold and other diseases. Corojo hybrids were then developed that could withstand the ills that cigar tobacco is heir to. Among the more famous — and infamous — Cuban hybrids are H2000, Corojo 96 and Corojo 97.

The corojo on the Cusano Corojo is a hybrid of some sort, but as owner Michael Chiusano said in Smoke Magazine, “You can make an orange pest-resistant without turning it into something other than an orange.” From this I take it that Chiusano means that his corojo is still Corojo, and bears at least a family resemblance to the original Cuban variety.

Cusano’s corojo is grown naturally tapado under cloud cover in Ecuador. The original crop was harvested in 1996 and the seeds from this harvest were selected and produced the 1997 wrappers the following year. The 1996 Corojo was released with a Connecticut binder, but the 1997s have a spicy Mexican Sumatra binder. The filler is Dominican in both cases. The brand was first released in 2004.

The wrapper on this robusto is a toothy dark colorado maduro. I used a punch on the cap and found the preliminary draw to be very good. The cap itself was not applied with the greatest care, but the rest of the cigar looks to be in good shape.

When I whipped the cello off this stick I thought I detected a whiff of ammonia. Not strong, but present. Lighting up this cigar confirmed my first impression — this cigar is a youngster. The first taste is grassy and slightly bitter, and it remains this way to the end. The aroma is toasty and delicate, but the greenish flavor doesn’t do the wrapper justice.

Additionally, the ash is crumbly and a mottled gray and black in color. Min Ron Nee in his seminal work on Post-Revolution Havana Cigars notes that this phenomenon is caused by incomplete combustion of the leaf. I’m not sure if this is true or not, but it is relatively common with unaged Cuban cigars.

Try this. Torch the black/grey ashes. They become white. The black/grey ashes are due to incomplete combustion. The black particles might be partially burnt organic molecules, because they are too large to be combustible.

He goes on to say that the fermentation process causes the breakdown of these molecules, resulting in complete combustion and a white ash.

Again, I don’t know if MRN’s explanation carries any scientific weight, but it is, as Plato says, “a likely story.” What I do know is that this is the second Cusano cigar I’ve tried that has tasted like this.

Aside from the green issues, this is a very well constructed medium-bodied smoke. Toward the mid-point it turns a bit musky, and the aroma remains pleasantly toasty throughout.

Like the Cusano 18 Double Connecticut I think the Corojo 1997 shows great potential, but it’s not there yet. I’m going to pick up a few and stow them away for a few years to see if my hypothesis is correct. Both the 18 Double CT and the Corojo 1997 are reasonably priced — well worth the investment of time and space in my humidor.

Vega Talanga debuted in 2002 from the cigar division of US Tobacco, better known as the producers of Skoal and Copenhagen smokeless chew. Since then that part of UST has been transferred to Swisher/General Cigars as part of a settlement in an antitrust suit. The information I have is dated previous to that takeover, so caveat lector.

The term “tercio” at one time referred to a 16th century Spanish military formation, also known as “the Spanish square,” a mixed infantry formation that utilized pikemen and musketeers to capitalize on the brute strength of the pikes and the long-range abilities of the muskets.

In the cigar world, however, a tercio is a bale of cigar tobacco sealed in the bark of the royal palm tree. This reportedly creates a tighter seal than the plastic, burlap, or cardboard materials often used to bale tobacco. This method results in less loss of moisture and forces the recirculation of air throughout the bale, making a more flavorful tobacco. (At least that’s what Manuel Quesada says, and who am I to argue?)

The Talanga Valley is located in the Francisco Morazan province of Honduras about a two hours drive north from Danli. Much of the tobacco is grown encallado — sheltered behind large stands of king grass to protect it from the wind — and is sun grown, resulting in a stronger leaf. Combine this with the deep fermentation the tobacco receives in the tercio, and you have the makings of a rich and powerful smoke.

Instead of the standard spanish cedar box, the Vega Talanga Tercio is presented in packages of palm bark just like the ones used to process the raw tobacco. The raw unfinished character of the cigar is emphasized again by its untrimmed foot, and a pig tail cap. The Tercios are produced in Danli using Talanga tobacco for wrapper, binder, and most of the filler, but the filler is supplemented with some Nicaraguan leaf.

Vega Talanga has introduced a new corojo line available in three sizes, but so far the Tercio is only available in one size: a 6 x 54 toro. The roll seems rather soft, and the draw is very easy. The wrapper is rough and leathery with a rich colorado color.

A little effort is required to light this cigar since the foot is flagged and the flaps are folded over onto the foot. But once it gets going, it requires no further maintenance. The burn is a bit uneven at times, but it corrects itself. The softness of this stick is a little weird, but it doesn’t seem to affect the draw or the burn.

The flavor is unusual, and I can’t quite pin it down. The smoke is very smooth, almost creamy in texture, but the flavor is of various shades of earth. At first it tastes of minerals, after a couple inches it turns musky, and the last transition is to a slightly woody flavor. I’m not comfortable with these descriptors, but it’s the closest I can get. It’s an easy smoking cigar, but complex. I can’t compare it to anything — this cigar produces flavors outside the standard spectrum, I think.

The aftertaste is a little bitter, somewhat metallic. A peaty scotch companion comes to the assist here.

All in all a very interesting smoke. I have an Astral Talanga Valley in the humidor that I may have to pounce on soon, because now I want to know if the unusual flavors in the Vega Talanga are coming from the Talanga Valley, or from Vega Talanga…