Avo Uvezian has led a cigar-charmed life. He started out as a jazz pianist and composer, playing and touring as a very young man in Lebanon and the Middle East after World War II. In 1947 he traveled to New York, where he studied at the Juilliard School of Music and eventually was drafted into the Army during the Korean War. (He played piano in the First Army Band.)

After following family members to Puerto Rico and working in the jewelry business for many years he started playing piano at a local resort. He discovered that the guests enjoyed the locally made cigars he kept on the top of his piano, and after giving away one too many of his personal stash, his young daughter Karin suggested that he might as well sell them.

This was the spark that eventually led Uvezian to contact Hendrik Kelner of Davidoff, who had just opened a cigar factory in the Dominican Republic. Avo’s first cigars were called Bolero, but the name was quickly changed to Avo when it was discovered that “Bolero” had already been registered by another manufacturer. The initial production run in 1987 was about five thousand boxes. Today about three million cigars are produced under the Avo brand name and its extensions.

The first Avo cigars – the now Classic line – were released in 1988, but Avo is really more of a song-and-dance man, a self described “PR man,” than a business and paperwork kind of guy, so in 1995 he sold his brand to Davidoff. But he remains, with his trademark Mimbre hat and ice cream suit, the face of Avo Cigars.

The Domaine Avo was blended to be a stronger version of the original Avo. It was released in 1998 in a robusto size only, but other sizes, including this 6 x 50/54 perfecto, were added in 2001. The filler and binder are a blend of San Vicente and piloto from the Avo farms in the Dominican Republic, and the wrapper is Connecticut shade grown in Ecuador. Production is overseen by the inimitable Henke Kelner in Santiago.

This is a beautiful cigar. For a few months I kept it in the top row of my humidor just so I could admire it during those few moments of indecision when I can’t decide what to smoke. The wrapper is a creamy colorado claro with small veins that are just about evenly spaced. The head and perfecto foot are flawlessly formed. There is an overall sense of proportionality and balance to this cigar that makes me hesitant to commit it to the flame.

The head clips cleanly and the prelight draw is much more generous than I expected, even with a nearly closed foot. After an easy light the draw opens up even more and becomes completely effortless. This cigar exhibits excellent construction all the way around — a great draw and a slow even burn.

The Domaine Avo introduces itself with a handful of sharp peppercorn — a surprise, considering the genteel appearance of the cigar. The finish from the start is quite long, and I found myself thinking “This is an Avo?” The texture of the smoke is smooth and creamy like I would expect from Connecticut wrapper, but the aroma carries all the characteristics of Ecuador, a nice easygoing cedary spice.

After the first inch the pepper fades a bit into a mild woody flavor, balsa-like with a salty element. The spice from the wrapper combines with this flavor very well to create a complex smoky brew. The middle third continues in this vein, with the wrapper stealing the spotlight and the base flavors taking a back seat. Into the last third the pepper kicks in again. I found that I had to smoke slowly to keep the smoke in balance at this point– this is where a slightly tighter draw might be appreciated. But of course the sensible thing is to just slow down a little.

The balanced appearance of this cigar seems to be reflected in the way that it smokes: it ends very much the way it starts, with a lot of spicy drama. In between is a pleasantly pastoral interlude. An extremely classy cigar that falls in the medium body range, maybe stretching to full at the end.

The Domaine Avo “50” is not a cheap date, but you’re not taking this one on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the State Fair. This is an operatic cigar, and in my opinion it’s worth the 8 or 10 dollars it sells for. There are a lot of fantastic cigars in that price range (and less, for that matter) but if price isn’t an object this stick is definitely worth a look.

–cigarfan

The Angel 100 series of cigars was named in honor of Angel Oliva, Sr., the patriarch of the Oliva Tobacco Company. Angel Oliva was born in 1907 and came to the United States from Cuba in the late ’20s. After a few years of working odd jobs he found himself working as an assistant to an unsuccessful tobacco broker in Tampa, Florida. Oliva quickly demonstrated his talent for the tobacco trade as well as his keen business skills — he restored his employer’s brokerage to financial health and then he launched his own enterprise, the Oliva Tobacco Company, in 1934.

By the 1950’s Oliva was one of the top distributors of premium tobacco leaf in the world, which at this time meant almost exclusively Cuban leaf. His relationships with Cuban farmers, as well as his company’s ability to buy whole crops and sort the leaf in house, fueled the expansion of the brokerage.

But what Angel Oliva is best remembered for is his distrust of Fidel Castro and his anticipation of the U.S. embargo. Oliva declared Castro a communist before the world really understood him to be one and predicted what would happen to the Cuban tobacco industry. In 1961, one step ahead of Castro’s revolution, the Olivas established a tobacco farm in Honduras, one of the first modern tobacco plantations in Central America. Not long after this, Angel managed to buy up almost four million pounds of Cuban leaf — it turned out to be the last shipment of tobacco from Cuba before JFK signed the embargo into law.

The Oliva empire would eventually extend to almost all of the primary tobacco growing regions of the world: Honduras, Nicaragua, the Dominican Republic (at the request of the Fuente family) and Ecuador. Or perhaps I should say, especially Ecuador. The sun grown wrappers on Ashton’s VSG, Arturo Fuente’s Chateau Fuente and Rocky Patel’s Sun Grown (to name a few) are all from Oliva’s farms in Ecuador. Tobacco from other Oliva farms also goes into brands like La Gloria Cubana, La Flor Dominicana, Pepin Garcia, and just to confuse everyone, some Oliva cigars as well. (The two Oliva families are often confused, but they are totally distinct and separate companies: the Oliva Tobacco Company is the legacy of Angel Oliva, Sr., as opposed to the Oliva Cigar Company, maker of Flor de Oliva, Master Blends, etc.)

The one thing the Oliva Tobacco Company doesn’t do is make cigars. The Angel 100 is actually made by NATSA (Nicaragua American Tobacco, S.A.) in Esteli with all Oliva grown tobaccos: binder and filler from their La Joya farm in Nicaragua, and sun grown wrapper from their La Meca vega in Ecuador. Four sizes were produced, each pressed and packed in boxes of five. The names of the different vitolas all hold some significance for the OTC family:

• 1961 (6 x 45 corona)
• La Joya (6 x 54 toro)
• La Meca (6.12 x 52 torpedo)
• O.T.C. (6 x 48 corona gorda)

The Angel 100 O.T.C. is a rough looking cigar. The wrapper is veiny and dark, the way sun grown wrappers often are, and the cap is just a bit loose on the head of the cigar. But once clipped it draws perfectly and produces a fine even burn with a solid ash.

When I first received these about a year ago they were harsh and inhospitable cigars. But I still found something intriguing about them, and I liked the aroma, so I put them away thinking they just needed some time to simmer. This turns out to be exactly the case — this is still a forthright and aggressive smoke, but it’s much more docile than it was a year ago. In fact, it’s nearly smooth. Full flavored, most definitely, but easier on the membranes.

The O.T.C. opens up with a medium body, and after the introductory first third it gets close to full. The Nicaraguan character of the cigar really comes through with lots of sweet woody flavors and the wrapper lends a fruity element to the smoke — it reminds me a lot of the wrapper on Rocky Patel’s Vintage 92 cigars, but played at a louder volume. It’s smooth, but with plenty of zing on the palate: pepper on the tongue and cherry in the nose… an interesting combination. And to my surprise it’s not a nicotine powerhouse — it generates a pretty good current, but it didn’t overload my admittedly delicate circuits.

As the cigar burns it develops a more serious character as the heavy Nicaraguan flavors overtake the subtleties of the wrapper. It remains balanced, but the balance shifts a bit. There is definitely enough complexity here to keep the senses guessing.

Just one small caveat: there is something a little odd about this cigar in the first and middle stages, a detergent-like overtone that may not be to everyone’s liking. Personally, I like that springtime fresh scent, but I can see how some might find it a little distracting.

This is a limited edition cigar with only a few sizes still readily available, though at a very reasonable price: about 13 USD per five pack box. It’s a fine cigar for fans of full flavor and a worthy tribute to one of the great cigar men of the twentieth century. Get some now and let them sit. I don’t think you’ll regret it.

— cigarfan

The Plasencia Reserva Organica is advertised by its distributor, Indianhead, as “the first completely organically grown cigar to come along since the Indians stopped rolling their own.” I might quibble with the concept of growing cigars, and I’ve read that the Cubans have utilized organic methods extensively, but it must be true that the Plasencia Reserva Organica is the first to be certified as a purely organic cigar.

But I can hear the groans already. Organic hippy dippy shit. But wait! What’s so terrible about eschewing the use of artificial fertilizers and pesticides? It’s hard to say what the long term effects of these chemicals are on tobacco workers and possibly, the end product, so why not see if it’s possible to go without them? Obviously it’s going to be more difficult to cultivate and harvest any crop in this manner, and therefore more expensive, but I don’t see anything intrinsically wrong with it. At the very least it opens the “organic” question for discussion. Have you ever wondered what chemicals are used to produce your favorite cigar?

Nestor Plasencia, Jr. is the madman behind this crazy organic thing, and it only makes sense that he picked up this harebrained idea in a university where he received a degree in Agricultural Engineering. And I suppose being the son of Nestor Plasencia Sr., one of the most prolific cigar makers in Central America, had something to do with it too. Maybe a lot.

To avoid the risk of contamination and because the certification requirements are so stringent, the Organica operation is entirely separate from Plasencia’s other fields and facilities in Esteli and Jalapa. All Nicaraguan tobaccos are used, but only the sturdiest criollo and corojo hybrids make the cut because many of the earlier seeds (such as Camacho’s first generation corojo) are very susceptible to disease and insect damage when they are deprived of chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Organic farmers have to substitute a lot of hard work for chemicals in order to keep their crops in good shape.

And all this extra work comes with a price. The toro checks in at around 7 USD per stick, or $135 for a box of 20.

The PRO toro is a nice looking stick. The wrapper is dark and a bit mottled, a little leathery looking, and has a simple tobacco scent with some grassiness to it. The prelight draw is easy, a little too easy on one sample, but overall the roll is good.

This cigar starts up with a very clean, slightly toasty flavor with a touch of sweetness. I certainly wouldn’t guess this was a Nicaraguan puro if I didn’t know it already. The texture of the smoke is very smooth with a mild body that grows to about a medium at the end. A delicate but indistinct aroma accompanies the mild flavor. I can’t decide if it reminds me more of leather or wood, or neither. It’s not easily distinguishable.

By the midpoint the smoke has built a little body and displays some leathery elements, but not a lot of complexity. One of the big challenges for milder bodied cigars is development and complexity, and unfortunately the PRO doesn’t do very well in this department.

This is a very slow burning cigar. Of the three I’ve smoked for this review, I’ve only been able to finish one, after an hour and a half of insistent puffing. The construction here is fair to good, with a couple samples having a loose roll and requiring periodic touchups with the torch. (Can I call these torch-ups?) The ash is a flaky solid white that tends to blow away if the cigar is not promptly ashed.

I really wanted to like this cigar, but in the final analysis I think it just doesn’t have a whole lot of character. It’s not a bad cigar by any means, but it just didn’t hold my interest for any length of time. It’s a very clean-tasting straightforward cigar with a mild body and a mild character. Maybe a little more ligero is called for, or a spicy non-organic sungrown wrapper. It needs a little something, I think.