Today we take a look an old standby, the Jaime Garcia Reserva Especial.
From Cigar Aficionado:
“Even though this dark, near-veinless robusto is solid to the touch, it draws wonderfully, leaving full-bodied notes of pepper, wine oak and coffee bean flavors on the palate.”
It received a rating of 90.
From the My Father web site:
“This brand made its first appearance in NYC during a special event on December 2009. The cigar, which at that time did not have a specific name, was made in only one size for that event. : It was so well received that Jaime Garcia decided to incorporate it to the regular production using his own name for the brand, called after that night “Jaime Garcia Reserva Especial”. This Medium-to-Full Bodied cigar, made at My Father Cigars S.A., has an oily and dark broad leaf wrapper, which provides it an exceptional smoke with an incomparable aroma. It comes in six sizes, packaged in natural wood boxes of 20 cigars.”
This is a cigar jam packed with tobacco. Very heavy in the hand. Seams are visible but tight. Lots of small veins. The wrapper is a dark oily coffee bean color. And it feels very toothy to the touch. The triple cap is immaculate.
I clip the cap and find aromas of dark chocolate, mint, strawberries, almonds, rich earthiness, and cedar.
Time to light up.
The first puffs are redolent with dark chocolate. Almost fudge brownies. The draw is a bit tight. So I massage the packed to the gills cigar. It works. The draw is right on.
I’ve reviewed this cigar a few times but recently noticed I have not done so on this blog so it seemed right to do it here and now.
I’ve had the 5 pack I bought on CM for about 3 weeks. The nice thing about My Father or Garcia cigars is that they need little humidor time.
And then the Garcia blast of pepper. Steaming hot red pepper. The chocolate has some bitterness to it like pure baking cocoa.
It is a bit of a one trick pony though. Most of the emphasis is on the chocolate flavor.
I got up very early this morning because of back pain and wrote my first review much earlier than I normally do. So I decided there is lots of time left over and here is my second review of the day. The first one was the brand new Nat Sherman EPOCA.
Creaminess appears. I sprint for the fridge to get a Diet Coke for my NYC egg cream experience.
To complement the chocolate, some nougat arrives.
At this early stage, the cigar is close to becoming a flavor bomb.
To cleanse my palate for this second review, I had a bowl of cereal, did a couple things around the house, drank an Atkins shake and I’m good to go.
The char line is nearly dead nuts.
This is sort of a bonus round and I love the smell of chocolate in the morning. Smells….like victory!
This is a blend that seems no matter how many cigars you’ve smoked previously to this in one day; it still holds its own. The one trick pony syndrome works for its consistency.
Creaminess appears. As well as some nuttiness. But the chocolate rules the day.
This is a true candy bar cigar. But not like the DE/Patel Java line. That blend is too full of treacly sweetness that makes me gag.
This is how a chocolate based cigar should taste.
Chocolate and more chocolate. A bit of creaminess and nuts and nougat with a touch of mousse.
The price point is great. I’m sure in today’s world of over pricing; the stick could go for another buck.
But $6 is wallet friendly. Even cheaper on Cbid or Cigar Monster. I think I paid $18 for a 5 pack on CM. $3.60 per cigar. Even better.
While everyone is scurrying to get the newest greatest cigar on the market, we tend to forget about the old reliables. If it were to be released as a boutique brand under the My Father brand, I suspect the price point would be $8-$9 a stick. Just because it is new.
My nemesis told me in one of his emails that me being a bad boy is the reason I don’t get many pre-release cigars. That’s true. But as the cigar is usually not going anywhere….my review, 4 months after the A List Good Guys, still ends up on the first page of Google and other search engines. The trick is to figure out the algorithms of Google…which I did. So my review shows up later than the well behaved reviewers, it still finds its rightly place in the top 5 on a search engine page.
Watch…in 3 or 4 days, this review will be in, at least, the top 10 on Google.
I am nearing the halfway point. There is no complexity. Just a boatful of chocolate and the ancillary flavors.
The red pepper has calmed down now. But it accomplished the purpose of clearing my sinuses so it’s all good.
At this point, the cigar becomes a flavor bomb. Dead center of the cigar.
Chocolate, creaminess, nuts, nougat, mousse, and now black cherry.
Construction of this cigar is exemplary. No problems to report.
The strength hits medium/full and the nicotine is kicking my ass.
And now for something completely different:
I haven’t told this one in a while so old time loyal readers, my apologies.
Skip and I were to meet in Florence, Italy. Upon arriving in Amsterdam, I stowed my amp and speaker cab at the train station. And then my girlfriend and I did some sightseeing in Italy.
Two weeks later, we ran into Skip and his wife while walking through an open market in Florence.
The first words out of his mouth were: “Do you have your gear?”
I reminded him that he was supposed to pick it up in Amsterdam and bring it with him to Florence.
He said it wasn’t there.
Fortunately, I never let my Gibson EBO bass out of my sight.
I began to freak out.
He told me he looked everywhere but my gear was gone.
After 10 minutes of cursing, we came up with a plan. He and I would hop a train using our Eurail passes and head back to Amsterdam.
The girls would wait in Florence.
The trip was miserable. The train was packed and no seats were available so we sat in the aisle of the train on these little wooden fold outs. You could barely rest one cheek on them.
It took 8 hours to get to our destination. We accidentally changed trains and no one was on it. The conductor asked us if we were really planning to go to East Germany?
Shit! We jumped off the train and found the right one.
We ended up sleeping in the area between the trains. Skip had a terrible head cold and was downright miserable.
Upon arriving in Amsterdam, we headed straight for the storage area. And there it was. My gear was sitting in the middle of a room.
Skip began flapping his arms and spittle emitted from his mouth. He couldn’t speak.
We deduced that someone who worked there “borrowed” my stuff for a day and then put it back.
We had a couple a couple hours to kill until the train back to Florence. So we sat at an outdoor café and ate.
The ride back was even worse.
Skip showed me that he had his hash pipe with a bit of hash in it so we found a place between cars and smoked some. I then told him to toss it. We were going through too many borders and it was dangerous. We had just seen the movie, “Midnight Express” about Turkish prison for druggies.
Skip ignored me as he usually does.
We had found nice seats in a cabin. Filled with students.
And then it happened. A coterie of German police with machine guns stormed into our cabin and yelled, “Hashish! Hashish!”
They went straight for Skip.
They spoke no English and motioned him with the barrel of their guns for him to get his ruck sack.
Skip took it down from the storage above and opened it.
Skip kept a three ring binder as a journal. In the binder was one of those zippered pencil holders. The plastic was a milky opaque but I could see the hash pipe clearly.
The cop motioned for Skip to open it. And I swear this is the truth….Skip calmly opened the compartment with the pipe in it and just removed it and put it in his back pocket.
Now my hands were flapping in the wind. German prison for sure.
Somehow, the cop didn’t see what Skip did. He was standing 6” away from Skip and he didn’t see the subterfuge.
An instant later, the cops left. Without us in tow.
A baby Jesus miracle had happened.
I grabbed the pipe out of Skip’s back pocket and opened the train window and threw it away.
“Hey!!” Skip was mad at me.
We didn’t say a word to each other the rest of the trip back to Florence.
When we got there, I found a head shop and bought Skip a new pipe. All was well again.
Thankfully, the cops didn’t search me because I had stashed a couple grams of hash that I bought in Amsterdam in my front pocket.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS