Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra

Binder: Nicaraguan

Filler: Nicaraguan

Body: Full

Size: 5.5 x 52 Slight Oval

Price: $9.25

This is the second outing of Jon Huber and Crowned Heads Cigars. Four Kicks was the first. The is a much talked about stick due to its immense character. I have smoked a couple and this is a helluva’ cigar. Huber enlisted his good friend, E.P. Carrillo, to help him blend this baby.

JON HUBER

E.P. CARRILLO

Huber decided to only make one size: A semi oval 5.5 x 52. It’s almost impossible to find them now as I am a bit late in reviewing these cigars.

Now here is the folklore that comes with this cigar. Huber is a Zep fan. (Who isn’t?) And he wanted a cigar that had the character of the opening bars of “When the Levee Breaks.” You know that massive John Bonham kicking the shit out his drums, heaving on the kick drum (bass drum to you non musicians). LOL. He played it for Carrillo to get across what he was seeking. Now if I was Carrillo, I probably would have rolled my eyes and made no sudden moves just in case Huber flew through the telephone to strangle me if I said, “What the…?” And to make it even more steeped in Zep history, the name of the cigar, Headley Grange, is a former house in Headley, East Hampshire, England. It is best known as a recording and rehearsal venue in the 1960s and 1970s for bands such as Led Zeppelin, Bad Company, Fleetwood Mac, Genesis, Peter Frampton, and the Pretty Things.

HEADLEY GRANGE, U.K.

On to the cigar….

There is a rustic appeal to the stick. It is a light brown with considerable mottling. The seams are excellent. And plenty of veins, but nothing Frankenstein in manner. The band is simple. It appears to have a triple cap. It has a nice oily sheen and some toothiness.

I sniff away and detect olive tree? At the foot, I smell spices and cinnamon, cumin, and a deep earthiness.

I clip the cap and light it up.

I get a blast of red pepper. Smoke pours from the foot. The draw is right on. I have to correct the burn line. And then it’s fine. The spiciness is matched by sweet tobacco and cedar. A nice creaminess shows up in the first inch.

As I pass the first inch, the sweetness comes from a decadent caramel. And then I get hit with another flavor: espresso. During this onslaught of flavors, the cigar remains smooth and full of finesse. The taste of tobacco is very strong and somewhat surprising. The creaminess continues to build as I exit the first third. The spiciness lays back a bit.

The cigar shifts to complex mode. I’m getting powerful flavor profiles with a kick in the ass from the strength.

I’m at the halfway point and I’m getting my beloved cocoa. So I grab the required Diet Coke for my egg cream experience. The cocoa builds quickly and with fierce intensity.

This is a great cigar. Now they are not cheap, but by no means expensive…and I suggest if you cannot afford a box, grab a 5 pack if you can find them. I only have 2 left and will be on the prowl today for more.

Holy double shit! This cigar keeps getting better and better until it makes you laugh out of wonder. I loved Four Kicks. But I want to have sex with Headley Grange…just a metaphor; no need to report me.

A new flavor pops up and I’m not sure what it is. The creaminess has brought it to the forefront….It’s meaty and sweet at the same time. This is making me nuts. What is it? It might just be the complexity tying the flavor profile together in a neat package and therefore creating its own flavor.

This is one of the most flavorful cigars I’ve smoked. The beginning, while flavorful, is only an overture to what happens at the mid-point. The strength is on the heavy side of medium as the last third begins.

This stick has me smacking my lips to garner more flavors while the cigar is not in my mouth. Now I like Carrillo cigars but I think this is his best. He should corroborate with more imaginative blenders like Huber. He seems to flourish under those circumstances.

Nutmeg! That’s it. The elusive flavor. Usually nutmeg appears when a cigar contains baking spices flavors, but there are none here so it really stands out.

It’s during the last couple of inches that the strength really manifests itself into a power house. It is staying cool and without the slightest bit of harshness or bite. The spiciness has ramped up again as I come close to nubbing it. My sinuses are draining, my eyes are watering, and my nose is running. LOL. This is one of those rare cigars I choose to nub because it is so smooth.

I look forward to trying the next incarnation of a Crowned Heads cigar. So far, Huber is batting a 1000.

And now for something a little different:

While playing bass in the English progressive band, “Curved Air,” (1974-1976) we were getting ready to board the ship that would take us from Dover, England to the Hook of Holland. About an 8 hour trip. I chose to travel with the roadies and leave a couple days earlier because I get sea sick and if you’ve ever traveled the English Channel, you will commiserate with me; as this is one of the roughest waters in the world.

So the 18 wheelers were loaded on the ferry. And so were Zep’s. Zep’s roadies and our roadies, and me, were hanging out on the dock shooting the shit. These were wild and crazy guys. One roadie showed late in a taxi. One of their roadies handed the taxi driver a thousand Pounds.

Then, twelve Zep roadies went about to take the taxi apart…down to its carriage. I told my roadies not to involve themselves because Miles Copeland, our manager, would skin us alive.

So we stood there, smoking joints and drinking beer…watching this hysterical show of idiocy. The taxi driver stood to the side counting his money.

It was time to leave and Zep’s roadies said to the taxi driver, “Say bloke, we must go now and there’s no time to reassemble your taxi. Is that OK?”

Well, the taxi driver went nuts. He was screaming at us as we boarded the ship. I never read anything about this incident. It was just what their roadies did.

We had dinner in first class with them later. We sat with a minister of Parliament and his wife because they served you family style at a large table. These roadies were animals. I remember them arguing over the food. “Give me the fockin’ peas, mate!” “No!” Wot you mean, no?” “I ain’t givin’ up the fockin’ peas, you wanker!”

This went on for 5 minutes and I have never been so embarrassed. But the Minister and his wife just sat there putting up with it.

At bed time, my roadie, Beric Wickens, gave me a Valium and made me drink a huge vat of beer. “Here. You will sleep really good, mate.”

And I did.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS