Dos Capas (two wrappers) cigars are usually relegated to the novelty bin with giant cigars, culebras, and odd figurados like Drew Estates’ Egg and Fuente’s chili pepper cigar. They’re not the kind of cigar I go out of my way to smoke or collect, but I was digging through the cheapodor the other day and noticed a Sherpa Mystic Dos Capas lying quietly in the bottom layer. I thought I had another Dos Capas somewhere in there and, after a little more excavating, I found a Beethoven Duet from Armando Ramos. Both of these cigars have been lounging with the bundle smokes and yard gars for over a year now, so I thought it was time enough to fire them up and see what they have to say for themselves.

These are both toro sized cigars at 6 inches long and a 50 ring gauge. They’re similar in appearance, except that they appear to be rolled in different directions. (The direction is just a function of which side of the leaf – right or left – was used by the roller to finish the cigar.) But appearances aside, I was more interested in how the flavor might be affected. I was particularly interested in the Sherpa because the wrappers are fairly distinctive in aroma and flavor — the light leaf is Cameroon, and the dark is Brazilian maduro. The Beethoven uses Connecticut “claro and maduro,” which I take to mean CT Shade and Broadleaf maduro.

The Sherpa Mystic is made by Carlos Torano for K. Hansotia (of Gurkha fame) and employs a Dominican and Nicaraguan blend in the binder and filler. Sherpa is Hansotia’s bargain line, selling for around 50 bucks for a bundle of 25, so I wasn’t expecting to be amazed. What I found was a mild bodied well constructed cigar that starts out with a sweet and nutty flavor. I picked up just a tinge of the exotic spice that Cameroon often evokes. There was a pleasant sweetness to the smoke that reminded me more of a mild maduro than Cameroon; it may very well be that the maduro wrapper simply outplayed the Cameroon here. I noticed that there was no detectable difference in ash color; regardless of which leaf was burning, the ash was a very uniform light gray. Like other Sherpas I’ve smoked, the Mystic started to get bitter at the fifty yard line. At the two- thirds point, or shortly before that point, I got tired of it and decided to let it cool in preparation for a post-mortem examination of the wrapper.

From what I could tell (imperfectly, because I was looking at about three inches of a very dry wrapper leaf that kept cracking and crumbling in my fingers) the Cameroon appeared to be the inner wrap and the maduro was on the edge of the roll.

The Beethoven Series is produced by Armando Ramos, but these cigars are not the first to bear the name or the stern visage of Ludwig van. The relic shown above is an artifact of the E.A. Kline cigar company, which operated in Tampa from 1903 to around 1909.

The Ramos line of cigars is somewhat newer than Kline’s, having been introduced in 2004. A fancy piano-shaped box for Beethoven cigars appeared in 2006, but I have yet to actually see one first hand. As mentioned before, the duet here is a two-part harmony performed by Connecticut Shade and Maduro Broadleaf, with binder and filler from Ecuador and Honduras.

This is a much more substantial cigar than the Sherpa Mystic. It is medium to full in body and exhibits perfect construction. The Beethoven Duet starts up with a very slight bite and quickly mellows to an earthy flavor with a sweet aroma. The ash on this cigar is so tight that I could have smoked the whole thing without tipping the ash but once, maybe twice. Towards the midpoint of the cigar it evolves a leathery core with sweet accents of caramel, and the smoke texture is buttery smooth. This cigar turned out to be a surprise treat. I picked it up for the sheer novelty of the wrapper, but I would buy more for the flavor and construction. I have to mention that this cigar spent over a year in the humidor after I purchased it, so the extra aging might have really paid off.

So, are Dos Capas cigars just gimmicks pure and simple, or is the combination of two different colored wrappers a legitimate blending technique? Both the Sherpa Mystic and the Beethoven Duet are decent cigars (though the Beethoven is far better, I think) and the flavor and aroma of both are basically mild maduro. The Sherpa shows a little of the spice from the Cameroon (though not much) and the Beethoven Duet has the creaminess of Connecticut Shade in addition to the maduro sweetness. So I have to say that in the final analysis both wrappers add a little something to the blend. So based on my rigorous scientific method of smoking two cigars and pronouncing my opinion, I’m going to wager that it’s more than just a gimmick. But as always, further testing is recommended!

Sabor Cubano is a product of La Tradicion Cubana, owned and operated by Luis Sanchez in Miami’s Little Havana. Sanchez comes from a family with roots in Cuba’s pre-revolutionary cigar industry, and his tabaqueros are veterans of Havana’s galeras, some with more than twenty years experience rolling cigars in the traditional Cuban fashion.

La Tradicion Cubana got its start in 1995 using blends that were inspired by Sanchez’s grandfather. Sabor Cubano — La Tradicion’s maduro entry — was first released in 1997.

Sanchez is obviously very proud of the maduro used in this blend, repeatedly noting (on La Tradicion’s website and elsewhere) that the wrapper is processed in an entirely natural fashion. (Some of the maduro cigars I’ve smoked recently have made me wonder, like Spinal Tap’s Nigel Tufnel, “How much more black could it be? And the answer is… None. None more black.” And while these cigars haven’t stained my lips or fingers, they have raised some suspicions… but I digress.)

The maduro wrapper employed here is from Mexico’s San Andres valley. By the time it is used in the Sabor Cubano it has been aged for five years, and is accompanied by a binder from Ecuador, and filler from Nicaragua and the Dominican Republic. La Tradicion makes some huge cigars; the standard La Tradicion line includes a gigantic pyramid that comes in at 8 1/2 inches by 80 ring gauge, and they are also the makers of The Big One, perhaps the largest cigar made for non-Guinness breaking purposes. It measures 12 inches long by a whopping 192 ring gauge. Wow.

At only 5 inches by 54, the Petite Torpedo is a veritable dwarf by comparison. The wrapper is not quite oscuro, but most definitely maduro. It has a rough texture, glistens with oil, and prelight the scent is bright and grassy. It smells very much like the few fresh rolled cigars I’ve had the pleasure to smoke. After snipping the tip I found a perfect prelight draw and a touch of pepper on the tongue.

This little guy smokes like a champ. Trails of white smoke wisp from the head of the cigar after every puff. I love that. It doesn’t burn perfectly evenly (what maduro does?) but otherwise I’m very impressed with the construction here. It starts up with a peppery flavor that has a slight bite to it without being truly sharp. The texture of the smoke is smooth and rich, and the aroma is sweet with woody spices.

I’d characterize this cigar as medium in both body and strength. It’s full flavored, but with a short finish and little aftertaste. What really sends me over the edge is the aroma from the wrapper — it’s far more complex than the last two double maduros I’ve reviewed. There’s a bit of char towards the end of the cigar, which is what typified the MX2 and the SLR Serie G, but the Sabor Cubano offers the sweetness of maduro without that carbonized flavor overtaking the softer notes. It’s a more balanced aroma, and in my opinion, a superior smoke overall.

La Tradicion is a boutique brand, but their prices don’t reflect that. Boxes of the Petite Torpedo go for around 75 dollars — well worth it; in fact I’d call that a steal. With a recent expansion to the Dominican Republic the company may be looking to go big, which puts fear into my stogie loving soul. I have a few other blends from the Calle Ocho shop to try, and if they’re as good as the Sabor Cubano I’m going to be eying a certain closet in my house for its humidor potential.

It seems like only yesterday that Inocencio Alvarez and Mannin Garcia set up shop and started rolling cigars named for a romantic tragedy called Romeo and Juliet. But in fact it has been about 132 years now. My how time flies.

An interesting bit of trivia about the Romeo y Julieta brand is that when the brand was purchased by Jose Fernandez Rodriguez around the turn of the century one of the marketing tricks that he used was to offer personalized bands to his regular clients, creating over 20,000 “vitolas.”

So with 20,000 different brands it seems fitting that Altadis USA would release another one for the 130th Anniversary of the label. Of course, the Romeo y Julieta Aniversario cigar is more than just a different band on the same old Romeo; it’s an entirely new blend.

The Aniversario is available in the five standard sizes, but here we have the 5 x 52 robusto. This line features an attractive and tasty Ecuadorian Sumatra wrapper, a Connecticut binder, and filler from the DR, Nicaragua and Peru.

It’s a handsome and well-made stick. The dark blond wrapper is smooth and the cap is carefully applied. A few veins from the binder are outlined throughout the wrapper, but they aren’t distracting. The roll is rock solid, and it feels fairly heavy. The overall impression is one of weight, gravity, and seriousness.

Despite inital impressions, this turns out to be a darling of a cigar. It opens up with a little pepper and a sweet aroma. The smoke texture is full and creamy smooth. After about an inch the base flavor is revealed as cedar, while gentle spice pours from the wrapper. By the mid point there are still some peppery overtones on the tongue, but they are fairly muted and blend well with the woody aspect of the smoke.

The ash is solid but the outer layer flakes a little: not enough to become a nuisance, just enough to look a bit messy. The burn is straight and the draw is firm. Loosen up the draw just a wee bit and I’d call this perfect construction.

The Romeo y Julieta Aniversario is a really nice medium-bodied cigar, clean tasting and sophisticated. It’s a great example of a cigar that is complex in terms of flavor, but not complicated.

There’s enough here to satisfy the veteran smoker and yet it won’t challenge a neophyte. The creamy texture and spicy overtones really won me over. On top of everything else, this is a great example of Ecuadorian wrapper, and the blend that plays behind it is right on the mark. The robustos run around 5 or 6 bucks a pop– a very reasonable asking price for a cigar of this quality.

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.