It’s been a while since I picked up a CAO MX2, but I’ve been in a maduro state of mind lately so I decided to fire one up and see if they’re as good as I remember. The SLR Serie G was a good cigar, but I remembered the MX2 as having a little more complexity. I’m comparing the two because they’re both “double maduros,” meaning they employ maduro leaves for both binder and wrapper.

It’s no surprise that the MX2 is more complex simply because there are no less than six different types of leaf used. The wrapper leaf is the traditional maduro leaf — Connecticut broadleaf. But beneath this is a binder from the Mata Fina region of Brazil. CAO has not been afraid to use Brazilian leaf, having used it with the Brazilia (which has a delicious Arapiraca wrapper) and the Sopranos edition (a more delicate Mata Fina.) For whatever reason, Brazil seems to get a bad rap in the cigar department even though it is South America’s top producer of black tobacco. Maybe the trick is in the blend — here CAO blends the maduro binder and wrapper with leaves from Nicaragua, Honduras, Peru, and the Dominican Republic. Tim Ozgener says there is Italian and Mexican leaf in the blend as well. That’s one smokin’ buffet!

CAO’s MX2 was introduced in 2003 and according to Ozgener it was the first “double maduro” cigar. Previously this term referred to extra-dark maduro colored wrappers (aka oscuro) but the MX2 was the first to use two maduro leaves in the blend. Sometimes “maduro” is used as a color designation but here it refers to the result of a lengthy fermentation process that goes into making a true maduro leaf.

The MX2 is a rough looking cigar: the wrapper is thick and presents an imposingly dark exterior. There was a time when maduro cigars were primarily made from corona or medio tiempo leaves — the strongest, thickest leaves at the top of the plant. The result was a very strong cigar. This isn’t so true any more– there are plenty of mild to medium bodied maduros that use less potent wrappers — but the reputation lives on. But if I were inclined to believe that darker is stronger I would be wary of this cigar.

One of the characteristics of good binder leaf is that it promotes an even burn, so using a thick, oily, heavily fermented maduro binder is a challenge. To the blender’s credit, the MX2 burns beautifully. I had no problem with lighting this stout robusto and it burned perfectly evenly with a very comfortable draw.

It starts up with a touch of spice and some woody flavors. The smoldering layers of maduro produce a sweet and pleasing aroma. As the cigar builds a solid ash the flavor turns from wood to earth but becomes gradually ashy. I enjoyed the fragrance of this smoke more than the flavor, which starts out with some promise but eventually concentrates on a sweet char that tastes kind of like burnt barbeque. It’s something I’d rather smell than taste, to be honest.

What I love about this cigar is the aroma and the fine construction, and now that I think about it that’s what I remember liking about the last one I smoked a few months ago. Unfortunately, I’m not really sold on the flavor. It’s also a very dry, mouth-puckering cigar that doesn’t inspire much salivation. Make sure you have a drink handy if you’re going to try one of these.

As for me, the taste buds have voted. All 10,000 of them. The MX2 is a fine cigar, but when I want a double maduro I’ll stick with my trusty Cusano 18 Paired Maduro.

The Saint Luis Rey Serie G is a new double maduro cigar from Altadis USA. Traditionally the serie associated with this frontmark is the “Serie A,” the classic Cuban cigar, so maybe borrowing the theme and adding another serie to the line is a good marketing play. Or maybe it’s just plain larceny. After all, what Cuban brands don’t have non-Cuban versions available for legal U.S. consumption? Vegueros? Guantanamera? It’s safe to say that at least the big names are spoken for — sometimes more than once — in the strange world of the cigar trade.

I always thought that the name of the brand came from Thornton Wilder’s The Bridge of San Luis Rey, the classic novel about the collapse of a Peruvian bridge and the Francisan missionary who tries to make sense of the senseless suffering that results. Now why one would name a cigar after a book as ponderous as this, I don’t know, but that’s why I was pleased to hear an alternative story: the original vegas that produced the tobacco for Saint Luis Rey were located in San Luis, in Cuba’s Vuelta Abajo, and somehow Rey got tacked on at the end as an honorific.

The whole “double maduro” thing has become a bit of a trend as well. CAO has done it with the MX2 (a cigar I plan to review soon as a companion piece to this one) and Cusano’s paired maduro is a very fine smoke as well. So I was looking forward to trying Altadis’s crack at the formula.

The Serie G cigars are all large ring gauge smokes — the Rothchilde is a large robusto at 5 x 56; the Churchill measures 7 x 58; and the “No. 6” is 6 x 60. So I guess we have a combination of trends here — double maduro, plus super huge ring gauge. The wrapper and binder are both Connecticut broadleaf maduro, and the filler is Nicaraguan.

This SLR double maduro is a solid log of a cigar with a dry dark maduro wrapper. The pre-light scent is earthy and redolent of good old fermented tobacco leaf. Due to the large ring gauge it takes some time to set this one alight, but once going it burns with a slow and even determination.

Given all this, it’s somewhat surprising that the volume of smoke produced isn’t larger — the smoke seems a little thin bodied to start out with, but it gradually grows to about medium at smoke’s end. What it lacks in body it makes up for in smoothness though. Neither bark nor bite come anywhere near this cigar.

The flavor is woody and when combined with the sweet char coming from the wrapper the overall impression I get is that it’s like being next to a warm camp fire on a crisp autumn night. It’s not a complex, symphonic kind of cigar, but the simple tune it carries is honest and sincere. The last third adds a heartier earthy component to the mix until it slowly declines and signals its demise with a final dash of tar. (I might have smoked it a little too far at that point, but it’s hard to know when to stop when you’re enjoying a good cigar.)

If you’re a maduro guy you’ll definitely want to sample a couple of Serie Gs, and if you’re new to maduros I think this one is a great example of the breed. Just keep in mind that it’s not a powerhouse cigar, and there isn’t a whole lot of complexity. It’s just a good old cigar.

(Afterthought: I smoked one of these in the garage last night and didn’t air the place out as well as I could have when I was done. When I went to get in the truck to go to work this morning it smelled great in there! It reminded me of what my grandfather’s tool shed smelled like when I was a kid: old leather and pine tar and gunpowder. What a smell. My wife doesn’t agree, but that’s why guys like us spend so much time in places like tool sheds and garages smoking stinky cigars. Long live the stink!)

One of the interesting things about tobacco, aside from the pleasure we derive from its taste and aroma as it burns, is its use in genetic engineering. Nicotiana Tabacum is extremely susceptible to hybridization, to the point that tobacco farmers have to constantly defend against cross-pollination in order to keep their strains pure. It has been said that the reason why Cuban tobacco no longer tastes the same as it did years ago is because of uncontrolled hybridization. I’m not sure how true that is, but that’s the line you’ll hear from the folks in Honduras or Nicaragua who claim their corojo is from the “original” Cuban seed.

Tobacco is an often used plant in biological experiments, because it has many advantages: It is a self-pollinating crop with up to one million seeds per plant, it can produce a large amount of biomass (more than 40 t fresh leaf weight/acre), it has no known wild or cultivated relatives in North America and it is easy to enhance through genetic engineering. By harvesting tobacco leaves before the onset of flowering, the possible flow of genetic material via pollen or seed is eliminated and the contamination of food crops is prevented. In addition, there exists a large-scale processing infrastructure.

Source: http://www.monsanto.co.uk/news/ukshowlib.phtml?uid=8474

Bioengineering is somewhat controversial, and sometimes just plain weird. How about a luminescent tobacco plant?

Or tobacco crossed with carrot? Cigarrot, anyone?

The wrapper for the Padilla Hybrid is a carefully engineered cross between “cuban seed” tobacco and Connecticut Shade, but more importantly (I think) is the fact that it’s grown in Ecuador. I’m sure that has as much to with the fine taste of this cigar as the genetic blend does.Out of the box the first thing you’ll notice is a very smooth shade wrapper of uniform color with small discreet veins. The cigar is a little bit dry, but rolled well with a Cuban style flat head.

The construction here is right on the money. It lights up easily and burns absolutely even with an effortless draw. The aroma from the wrapper is most typically Connecticut shade — creamy, buttery, like Chardonnay. But it’s spiked with some more unusual, but still gentle spices. A touch of cinnamon or nutmeg maybe with a bready overtone. The flavor is nutty but otherwise unremarkable. The aroma is the focal point here.

It starts to burn a little hot at the middle of the cigar and by the two-thirds point the flavor is getting a little ashy. It’s a mild cigar in terms of strength, but about medium in smoke density and mouthfeel.

The flavor and aroma of this cigar reminds me a little of what happens when you blend two single-origin coffees, or two single malt whiskies. While the high points of both elements are present and complementary, if you’re a diehard fan of one or the other the blend might come off as an adulteration.

But I think Padilla has something here. Overall I think this is a great blend of aromas and definitely worth the very reasonable price. If you like Connecticut shade and cigars on the mild to medium side, definitely give this Hybrid a shot.

Do it soon though because they’re going out of production. If you’ve tried one and you like it, be sure to pick up a few boxes now while they’re still available. At 60 dollars for a box of 20 this is a no brainer.

By now most cigar smokers are familiar with La Flor Dominicana cigars, but in the past few years Tabacalera La Flor has released a few “special” cigars like the Litto Gomez Diez line, the Limitados I and II, and the extremely limited Factory Press cigars. The Coronado entry is a departure from the standard LFD production as well, with only about 65,000 cigars made last year. And while the production run for the Coronado isn’t as limited as those “special” smokes, the fact that the double corona rated a 93 and won “Second Best Cigar of 2006” in Cigar Aficionado put in the spotlight for a while.

The heart of the Coronado is the filler and binder grown on Litto Gomez’s farm in the Dominican Republic. The binder is corojo, (Dominican corojo is always sure to get my attention) and the filler is from Sumatran seed.

The wrapper on this cigar is a very mottled colorado maduro with fine veins. It’s a gorgeous example of sun-grown wrapper, and in this case it’s easy to see why Litto opted for a non-Dominican leaf — it’s grown by Nestor Plasencia in Jalapa, Nicaragua, and in addition to the visual element it adds several levels of complexity to the smoke. It’s rough looking and oily, but beautiful.

The draw on this stick is just about perfect — an easy pull with just the right amount of resistance. The burn is not perfect, and the ash from the wrapper tends to peel away and look a little messy, but these are minor matters. Overall I found great construction here.

La Flor makes some great milder bodied cigars, but the ones that have gotten the most attention lately are the full bodied sluggers like the Double Ligero and the Litto Gomez Diez. As soon as I lit the Coronado I realized it was probably in the same class. The first few puffs are very peppery and the first half inch or so unleashes a serious tongue bite. The pepper I like, especially since it dissipates and develops much more complex flavors after that first blast. The tongue bite I could live without.

Eventually what I’m getting is a solid base of leathery flavors with overtones of black pepper and later on some woody elements. The finish is long and peppery, and the texture of the smoke is excellent — creamy, full flavored, almost chewy. Strength aside, this is a truly heavy bodied cigar just in terms of the weight of the smoke, and the aroma is powerful and pervasive.

But to be honest, this stick kicked my ass. I managed to get through the first two thirds, really enjoying the cigar, until the last third when my head started spinning and I had to weigh my options — keep smoking because the flavor was too good to abandon, or put it down and try to regain my equilibrium. I was struggling with this decision until I started feeling a little queasy and recognized the signs, the ones that say “Stop now or find a nice quiet place to be sick for a while.” So for once I listened to my body and let the Coronado extinguish itself.

This is a great cigar for full-bodied cigar lovers. It was a bit much for me, but what I could handle of it I quite enjoyed. I’ll be picking up a few of these for my friends who like Joya de Nicaragua Antanos and LFD Double Ligeros — the price point is a little high at around 8.00 USD retail, but for complexity, performance, and all around flavor this is money well spent.