Wrapper: Nicaraguan Jalapa Sol
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6 x 54 “No. Fifty-Four”
Body: Full
Price: $6.49

La Gloria Cubana debuted two cigars at the 2013 trade show. Sort of sister and brother cigars. The first is the LGC Serie R Black. Which you can buy everywhere online. Its sibling is the LGC Serie R Esteli which is only sold in B & M’s. I looked and did not find any online stores carrying it.
In fact, that is where I got this single Esteli….my local B & M on a spree of singles shopping.

The cigar comes in three sizes: 6 x 54, 6 x 60 and 6.25 x 64. MSRP range from $6.49-$7.49. Depending on how greedy your home state tax structure is. And they come in 18 count boxes.

I have to admit I was drawn in by how stunning the cigar looked. Starting with the double bands. I reviewed the Monte by Montecristo yesterday and they could take a lesson from LGC on how to stay classy and yet modern at the same time. The “Esteli” band is identical to the “Black” except it says “Esteli” where the “Black” would be.

The foot band is also stunning with a shiny chrome look with “La Gloria Cubana Serie R” written in such a way it makes you seasick. But cool, nevertheless.

The wrapper is a decent milk chocolate color along with a bit of marbling. Some seams are visible but fairly clean looking. There are lots of veins but nothing obtrusive. A bit of oil on the surface.

The LGC web site has a very lyrical way of describing the Esteli:
“Beefed by a top priming Jalapa Sol wrapper and rounded out by a combination of visos and ligeros, Serie R® Estelí sings her Nicaraguan song at the top of her lungs.” The hills are alive with the sound of….er…that’s me.

I clip the cap and find aromas of mint julep..I got a big blast of that as I cut the cap off. There is spice, sweet tobacco, and cocoa.
Time to light up.

This is a big stick as I shove it in my fish maw. All those horrible memories of San Quentin come rushing back.

I am fully expecting this cigar to be what LGC is doing to keep up with you know who…NBTO’s.

The first puffs are like a dusty cocoa powder. The draw is crazy as the room fills with smoke. The burn line needs immediate attention.

And then half an inch in, I get a blast of red pepper. Garcia style.

The burn line just won’t stop misbehaving. This is starting to piss me off.

The flavor profile, so far, is cocoa, pepper, and good clean tobacco. I would have said, “fun,” but this lighting the foot over and over ain’t fun.

The char line finally acts like a mensch and is razor sharp.

It is a known fact that a small cigar will be much more flavorful than a big cigar. That’s the fact, Jack.

So why would LGC choose to build 3 giant redwoods? Why no robusto? I know this 6 x 54 ain’t going to be no flavor bomb. So I will have to suffer for my readers for close to two hours to report on this log.

I approach the end of the first third. It has been 4-1/2 hours since I started this cigar. I may need some Chapstick.

Have you noticed how some reviewer’s pride themselves in showing photos down to the nub with a two foot ash standing vertically? Do you have any idea how angst ridden that must be? I write every single day. If I had to play all the tricks and games to keep that in place and then only allowing for only ½” of cap to show, I’d be a Xanax junkie. It’s difficult enough to remember what cigar I am writing about without being a show off…more than I already am. So when I think the ash is ready to go, I flick the bugger off and move on. No integrity at all. That’s me.

I’m into the second third and the cigar is sort of blaaaah. I knew it. First, LGC can’t get rid of that Old School mentality where no cigar is ready before 6 months humidor time. And second, a big honker like this isn’t going to show that much flare anyway…not for $6.

Take Paul Stulac Cigars. He makes giant logs. And they aren’t cheap. Average price is $10-$12 a stick. But these babies are ready in a few weeks and they are very flavorful. Paul now owes me for this.

Some sweetness becomes more apparent…A little cream. The spice moves to the background. And my jaw is tired from smoking as I type. Oh, the stories I could tell you about my time in the Q in a gang called the Hebrew Hacksaws. We only chopped up and ate Muslims because we knew they ate no pork.

The sweetness and the return of the spice give the halfway point some zest. Due to a lack of any colorful flavors it forces me to react to the taste of the tobacco. It is something we often overlook when we have a full flavored cigar. What I’m getting at is that the tobacco is very tasty. Within that spectrum, it is rich and balanced. It has a lot of character like Wally Guse. But for me, not enough oomph. And while still at the halfway point, the cigar reaches medium/full bodied.
There are three kinds of smokers. The first is the guy/girl who has the bucks to be able to buy boxes and boxes and put them away for a year, or years. This allows them to purchase the old school cigars and give them their due.

The second kind of smoker is me. I’m on a budget and cigars are lucky to get two months humidor time. Sometimes less.
And the third kind of smoker smokes Quorums and Rocky Patel Seconds.

Cocoa starts its return. And even though this is not my type of cigar, it is very pleasant. It is well rounded and has no corners. I have a special “construction” calculator. If they had only told us in the 7th grade that we would have calculators to figure out the radius or circumference of a circle by the 1990’s, I wouldn’t have struggled so much trying to kiss my tutor. He was a cutie.

The last third gets a little interesting. The cigar hits the sweet spot and flavors are emboldened. The resurgence of the cocoa, mixed with the sweetness and natural tobacco flavors are plenty to put a smile on my ugly puss. A fruity flavor of raisins appears giving it an additional corner. Or is it parabolic curve?

The strength really goes for the kill now. I’ve got a couple inches to go and I’m seeing double.

By now, my treatise has put you to sleep. I notice that my Depends are full so I retire from the laptop and take care of business.

I’m back and feeling refreshed. Depends are wonderful but never wear them for more than four days in a row.

No one reads my other blog: “Blue Star Adjustments.” It is 23 chapters about growing up in a family of Jewish Mafia. All true, by the way. I have decided to add Chapter 1 to the bottom of this review.

This cigar needs at least 6-12 months in your humidor. I laughingly thought two months was enough.

The cigar finishes up smooth and tasty. Just don’t buy any unless you are willing to let them rest in your humidor until your kids are in college.

Chapter 1: “The Last Jump” From my blog: “Blue Star Adjustments.”

It was my idea.
And I was giddy with the brilliance of it.

The Cessna flew at about 3500 feet above the ground. There were 3 of us jumpers… plus the pilot and the jump master. We were pitched out of the plane in order of height with the tallest going first. I went second.

As the first man was directed to swing over to the opening where once was a door, he was directed to sit perpendicular to the plane with his legs hanging out. The plane banked to the right and the man who gave all of his worldly and spiritual confidence to the jump master, allowed himself to start slipping out of the plane. The jump master grabbed him by the collar a nano second before he would have disappeared from sight.

He turned his head to the right so he could see me and chuckled an unconvincing “oops.” Moments later, he was directed to put his left foot on the plane’s step and then swing his right foot over to the plane’s landing gear tire. The rest came naturally….hold on to the elliptical wing strut until being told to push off. Of course, we weren’t given the opportunity to hold the strut on the ground so it was somewhat startling to find that one’s hands didn’t so much grip the strut, but rather, dig one’s nails into it because it wasn’t designed to be a grab rail.

In an instant, he was gone. A blink of the eye. Bye-bye.

We circled the landing zone again waiting for the man to complete his landing at the large “X” marked in the soft loamy dirt.

As beginners, we did what was called a static jump. The jumper did not have the responsibility of pulling the rip cord. It was tethered to a huge metal eye bolt in the plane’s hull. Therefore, free fall was only a few seconds before the old style army-type, circular parachute opened. The kind that makes the jumper hit the ground at 8mph.
Strapped to the top of our secondary chutes was a snugly attached one way radio. It was for listening, not speaking. After the chute opened, an employee on the ground gave the jumper directions as to which handle to pull down; right or left…that would direct the jumper to the right place; as opposed to the nearby lake.

I learned later, that as the first man jumped, a wire came loose on the radio making it completely impotent. As the man came closer to the ground and realized he heard nothing from below, he looked down at his radio and saw a wire flapping in the wind. He immediately let go of the handles and began to frantically insert the wire into the correct place in the radio.
He accomplished this about 1000 feet from the ground and as he did this he heard the employee screaming directions to him. The man quickly followed directions and actually landed in the right place.

It was my turn. I scooted over to the open maw of the plane and felt the horrific wind pelting me and was surprised at how loud the wind was over the sound of the Cessna’s engine. As my legs dangled, the jump master bellowed directions that I barely heard.
I actually found myself in some sort of trance at the strange nature of dangling one’s legs 3500 feet above ground as opposed to, say, dangling them in the pool.

My trance lasted a few moments. The jump master pushed me as he directed me to do the “swing” to the outside of the plane. I held the plane struts like a cat, worried that I would let go before I was directed to do so.

“Now!!” Came the order. And instead of flinging myself away from the plane so I could arch my body in the perfect free fall position, I merely let go.
My chin hit the tire sending me into a series of body rolls that seemed like eternity.

The sudden jerk of the cord that opened the chute was like a sledge hammer to my groin. No one had given us any advice that maybe an athletic cup would be the couture of the day….for the straps wrapped around my shoulders and crotch were met with the sudden jerk of a freight train. I felt my testicles climb up to my throat and make a heroic effort to exit my nostrils.

I followed the directions of the employee on the ground, to the letter, until the last 100 feet when ground rush entered the picture. I tried the perfect roll like we practiced all day but instead I just crashed on both legs and crumpled several meters away from the landing zone in some rocky area next to it. I felt the burn of the scrape to my cheek but then I felt the pain in my gonads and tried not to vomit.

I was helped off with my gear and returned to the waiting area to watch the third man follow.

No hitches. A perfect jump.

As we were getting dressed into our civies, the third man excused himself and said he had to pee. So he walked out of the trailer and sauntered quickly over to the outhouse.

Thinking I had little time, I ran over to my car and grabbed the case under the seat. The hard plastic case was warm from the car sitting in the sun all day. I quickly opened it and grabbed the contents. I checked that everything was in order and convinced that it was, ran to the port-a-pottie, opened the door (it wasn’t locked) and saw the surprised face of the third man.
I fired two shots into his chest and one into his forehead. Even with the silencer, the confines of the small space made it sound too loud.
I closed the door and felt pleased with myself.

There were no good byes to anyone. I opened the car door and put the 45 caliber Glock on the seat next to me. I started the engine and drove away. Gravel and dust exited the back of my car.

I thought that next time I should always think about protecting my balls.

If you are interested in reading more, click on: “Blue Star Adjustments.”

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: cigar review, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, la gloria cubana cigar review