Wrapper: Mexican San Andres

Binder: Honduran Corojo

Filler: Honduran Criollo, Dominican Corojo

Size: 5 x 50 Robusto

Body: Medium/Full

Price: $135.00 for Box of 25 ($5.40 ea.)

I swear I reviewed this cigar, maybe a year ago…but I’ve checked on all of my blogs and can’t find it. My brain is beginning to rot.

I picked the Matt Booth Room 101 Serie SA. I have smoked this little firecracker countless times and something on FB triggered my memory and I bought a box. The prices seem to be controlled so I went with Famous Smoke who is throwing in a $50 stainless steel Knuckle Cutter with the box. This cutter is a goddam weapon.

This is an inexpensive cigar with great potential. The theme as of late is to produce an inexpensive, underpriced cigar to boost the street cred of the blender. All very kosher to me. For the people behind these blends have produced plenty of expensive high premiums so it’s a nice gesture to see quality show up in a $5 stick.

Construction is so so. I see seam repairs. Lots of veins. And the cap is a little wonky. The wrapper is typical of the San Andres; dark like coffee.

The cigar band is the type of thing that would give you nightmares if you were 6 years old and smoked cigars.

I sniff around and get pungent aromas of cocoa, citrus, espresso, leather, cinnamon, and sweet cedar.

I carefully clip the cap using the Room 101 cutter…and light up.

Big gobs of spice emit from the stick. Loads of smoke emit from the foot.

There is a nice sweet tobacco flavor or maybe dried fruit…I can’t tell yet. I am guessing that smoking this cutie pie is not the smartest decision since I’ve eaten nothing and it is going to become potent. The char line is close to perfect.

The cocoa is pungent and mixes well with the espresso. That dried fruit is dried dates. Very luscious and decadent.

Back in the early 80’s, when coke was at its most chic, getting the good stuff was no easy feat. Yes. There were boat loads of it but finding the good stuff was not easy.

My original rock band, in 1980, taught me all about that drug…and then some. We didn’t have all that media exposure telling us how it ruins people’s lives or how addicted you can get. And at that age, we were invincible.

Because we bought the hippie style of everyone chipping in on something large so we could have our own stash cheaply, it was dangerous. Sellers were unstable. And likely to have stepped on the shit until it was nothing but baby laxative. So you brought 3 things with you to a buy: A test kit, a gun, and human back up. That pretty much guaranteed a safe exit.

The spice level is ramping up and so are the flavors at the 1” mark. Still can’t believe this is a $5 stick.

On one such occasion, me and R went to make a buy. We knew the guy really well but he said we’d have to go to this other guy’s house. A cold shiver went down my spine. R was a killer by training. Several years in Special Forces and could be a really scary guy if pissed off; so I felt a little safer.

We followed this guy to the other guy’s house. It was in a funky part of Culver City. I was wearing a .38 revolver in a shoulder holster. R had nothing.

We are allowed in and the place is crawling with coke junkies; their faces all contorted in that “way too much coke consumed in a short period” look. They could barely speak as we were ushered into a bedroom.

The guy locked the door.

As the first third ends, I get some creamy caramel. Lip smacking nice. The thing about these really nice inexpensive blends is that while they are totally enjoyable, there isn’t much complexity to them, if any. You get the required amount of cocoa, coffee, creaminess, sweetness, leather, and dried fruit. That’s it. Now it might taste great and it might be just a little different than the last Nicaraguan or Mexican you smoked, but basically, they are the same. Reviewers don’t tell you that. Why? It’s bad for being a reviewer. Who wants to read the same review over and over?

The one thing they usually all have in common is that the last third is a flavor explosion with all the above flavors doing handstands on your palate and becoming very intense.

And that’s what this cigar is like. I could take you through the other two thirds, but you’ve read it before. A truly enjoyable cigar blended correctly for little $.

The box with the coke came out along with a digital scale. This guy wasn’t fucking around. He measured out the amount all the while talking 120mph. Not a good sign because if he abused like this, it meant that every time he needed some, he just watered down the product a little more.

And then there it was; “You got the money. Can I see it?”

R and I looked at each other with a little dread. Would we be here without dough? Of course not.

The double lattice walk in closet doors swung open with a bang. Two guys with guns pounced on us, knocking me over, but not R. R was tall and wiry and strong as they come.

The guy that brought us here, fell into a heap in the corner, crying and weeping.

I tried to go for my gun but the guy had me pinned. R dispatched his assailant with a couple well placed fists to the head. He pulled the guy on top of me off by his collar which gave me time to grab the .38. I screamed, “You dirty fucking mother fuckers! We came with money. And you fucked it all up. I should fucking shoot all of you. In this part of town, no one will notice.”

R pulled me toward the bedroom door and unlocked it and we walked out backwards with me aiming the revolver towards the motley group of assassins.

I drove and peeled rubber as I pulled away from the curb. R had a joint on him and immediately lit the puppy up. After a few minutes, we started to laugh. And then big, belly laughs.

R said, “Let’s go to a tittie bar.” And we did. Nothing like being surrounded by naked women to calm the savage breast.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS