Today we take a look at the Kristoff Corojo Limitada. It made its debut in 2011 and this Torpedo was voted #11 in Cigar Aficionado’s 2012 Top 25 cigars and rated 93.
The blend comes in four sizes:
Robusto – 5.5 x 54
Torpedo – 6.25 x 52
Matador – 6.5 x 56
Churchill – 7 x 50
From the Kristoff Cigars web site:
“The new Corojo Limitada is for the fan of Nicaraguan tobacco. Nearly a puros Nicaraguan blend, this medium-full bodied cigar is loaded with spice, nutmeg, toasted nut and a sweet-spicy finish. Made with 100% Habano seed tobacco that is double and triple fermented, the Corojo Limitada maintains the Kristoff tradition of flavor and smoothness. The signature of Kristoff Cigars.”
Construction: I am conflicted from calling it either an ugly piece of drek or maybe a beautiful piece of art work.
This goes way past rustic. Seams are very sloppy. The wrapper is chunky, bumpy, lumpy, and misshaped.
The wrapper is very oily and very toothy. The mottling of the wrapper is its only saving grace. The wrapper is a coffee bean brown with an orange tint. I’m a sucker for mottled wrappers. They give the cigar a nice organic look.
I clip the cap and find aromas of spice, ginger, barnyard, and the slightest bits of cocoa, coffee, cedar, and leather.
Time to light up.
I can’ stand closed footsies on my cigars. They are like a fireworks show when lighting up shooting bits of lit tobacco everywhere. And it is damn near impossible to start the cigar with an even burn line. But that’s just me. And if it ain’t you, well….well…fuck you.
The first puffs are gorgeous. Full of red hot pepper that is on a hunt to destroy my palate and turn my throat to a crispy critter. And there is a sweetness and creaminess that kick in immediately. Moments after that, a big swath of milk chocolate paints my palate with the most delicate of dabbles.
There are other flavors: Sweet potato pie..yeah, you heard me. Can I help it if I am burdened with a savant’s palate? (LOL).
Sometimes Charlotte and I just have a big ol’ sweet potato for dinner.
Right in the middle of me writing this, I get a call from the surgery nurse for tomorrow’s back surgery. She asks me the same questions I’ve been asked a gazillion times: “Are you allergic to blow jobs by the surgery nurses while under anesthesia? Do you want photographs? You know..same ol’, same ol’.”
So the cigar goes out on me. Drat. That was the whole point of that rant.
The strength is classic medium body.
The red pepper has cleared my sinuses.
The draw is great. Not too airy and not too much cheek action required.
I don’t like torpedoes. You don’t care? The feeling of a tapered end makes me chomp harder to keep it from slipping out of my mouth. What? You really don’t give a shit?
I’ve burned 2” and while it is a very pleasant cigar, it just doesn’t have the “Wow” factor.
I’ve had the stick in my humidor for several weeks and it should be pumping out some interesting fresh rolled flavors.
I’ve found that the newer blends from Kristoff are real beauts. Like the Galerones Series DR4 ($7.00), Galerones Series Ceniza De Plata ($9.00), and the Galerones Intensivo ($9.50). These are pretty damn decent sticks.
The price point. $9.00 is too high for this blend. I may change my mind later in the review but the previous three blends I mentioned were circus clowns from the start and put a big smile on my puss.
The Kristoff Corojo Limitada has all the good stuff that a great $6 cigar has. And so far, not worth the extra $3.00.
The Kristoff Corojo Limitada needs its second char line touch up.
There seems to be a demarcation point between the older Kristoff blends and his moving on up, Weezie experiments with more sophisticated blends.
Unfortunately, the Kristoff Corojo Limitada seems to be on the other side of that line in the sand.
I had hoped the second third would enjoy a flavor profile explosion but it is just lying there. No changes.
I have stayed away from Kristoff during its early years because they just took too damn much time in the humidor to be ready to smoke. Old school blending.
The newer blends are good to go in two weeks. Of course, if you’re flush and you eat off of golden plates and flatware, then it’s no big deal.
But when you are on a tight budget, one tends to look for those cigars that are ready to smoke sooner rather than later.
Everything has gone kind of bland now. The red pepper attack has departed the field with its tail between its legs.
The Kristoff Corojo Limitada only salvation that it finds its sweet spot in the last half or last third.
I’d like to know what this cigar cost prior to the 2012 Cigar Aficionado awards. And if you’ve read me before, you know I don’t trust the CA rating system. It is sort of an unspoken truth that everyone knows. How many times have you seen high ratings on dog turds and said, “What the fuck? Are they crazy?”
I can’t say what I’m thinking for worry of being sued for slander.
Now the Kristoff Corojo Limitada is becoming a chore to smoke.
When a manufacturer hands over samples to Cigar Aficionado for review, you can bet that those sticks have been babied and tended to like new born babes. So a true blender’s intent stick is being presented. It sure ain’t a stick with only a few weeks humidor time on it.
And if a few weeks are insufficient, I should be enjoying the potential of the cigar. I don’t.
The Kristoff Corojo Limitada flavor profile is mainly hay and wood with some leather thrown in. What happened to all those wonderful early flavors?
This cigar was a gift from a reader. He told me that he just bought the cigars he sent me and I should give the Kristoff Corojo Limitada a few weeks. Well, I’ve done that.
Tick tock, tick tock…
Let’s assume that the Kristoff Corojo Limitada needs 3-4 months of humidor time. I am smoking it too soon. Where is the potential that I can always taste? There should be hints of greatness in a #11 Top 25 Cigar of 2012.
I remember how shocked I was when the Alec Bradley Prensado got the number 1 cigar of the year a couple years back. WTF?
You ever notice how Davidoff, who make some fine cigars, never seems to get a rating above an 88? Makes you think.
Some sweetness along the lines of mild caramel returns. Not a sign of spiciness. The cocoa is gone. No more sweet potato.
I am very disappointed. Not long ago, I bought a couple of great cigars that are almost half the price of the Kristoff Corojo Limitada. I got a box of Alec Bradley Coyol and the DE Nica Rustica. After a mere 4 weeks, these sticks became killer cigars.
Why bother with a stick in the $9.00 range that takes who knows how many months to be ready to smoke when so many cheaper cigars that blow me away are out there?
The $9.00 price tag is a box price. The 5 pack is almost $10.00. LOL.
Go to “The Katman’s Best 137 Boutique Brands/Blends in the $6-$9.50+ Range” and do some shopping. Or “The Katman’s List of 117 Great Cigars in the $5.00-$6.50 Range” and stock up.
You won’t see the Kristoff Corojo Limitada on either list.
I’m ½” away from the last third and, as predicted, the cigar flavor profile begins to blossom.
Creaminess, caramel, cocoa, nougat, toasty, cedar, and leather. It is an improvement.
I’d be a lot more tolerant if this stick were in the $6-$7 range.
The strength hits medium/full.
And as Murphy’s Law would have it, there is too much glue on the cigar band. Natch.
The last third begins.
The sweet caramel notes are nice. Along with more potent flavors from the previous list.
There should be more.
I can’t remember a cigar I smoked a little too soon that didn’t blaze during the last third giving me a hint of the blender’s intent. I’m getting none of that.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out how the Kristoff Corojo Limitada got such a tremendous rating from CA.
The nicotine is really strong now making my motor functions fail.
I cannot recommend this cigar; especially at this price.
Yes, if you are very patient, the Kristoff Corojo Limitada may do a complete turnaround. But a few weeks of humidor time should have shown me more.
What a bore fest.
There are hundreds of good cigars at this price point that would be killers by now.
This ain’t one of them.
Note: My back surgery is tomorrow. I’m not sure when I will be able to sit for 3 hours in my writing chair so I shall just play it by ear.
And now for something completely different:
After shock and awe…1984.
The Eddie Munster project tanked after selling over 180,000 singles. The record company execs were arrested by the FBI for stealing. The owner’s wife worked for Hughes Aircraft and embezzled $15 million and shoveled into the record company. How dumb can you be?
In the blink of an eye, everything came crashing down. Rocshire Records went under owing more than $50K. I had put every dime I could get my hands on to produce this project.
I had a production deal with Rocshire. All I did was give them a finished project: Master tapes, 45 single art work, and a rock video I wrote, produced and directed. They only had to crank out the vinyl and distributed it while promoting it.
I got the first 25 cents from every single sold.
And timing was everything. I was weeks away from getting my dough before the FBI swooped in.
I had gotten a second mortgage on my house in Long Beach. I had borrowed thousands of dollars. I was fucked. I was out of dough and couldn’t make my mortgage payments.
Couldn’t pay my car loan either.
Nasty letters were arriving demanding their dough.
I had spent 10 years in the music business getting fucked by record companies signing regular artist deals. So the production deal would give me more control of the money.
It worked perfectly until the FBI had other ideas.
I lost my house in foreclosure. I had to hide my car.
And I became homeless. Each night, I slept at a different home of friends’.
Everyone was my friend when the project was going well. Nobody loves you when you’re down and out. True dat.
Even my recording studio partner stabbed me in the back by embezzling funds while I was on the road with Butch Patrick promoting the single across the country.
I dissolved my partnership.
Finally, one good friend, Tim Krenzien, gave me a permanent place to sleep. I had my own room.
Butch could give a shit about what happened. He even met me and demanded his $10K that our management contract entitled him to. I was homeless and he wanted $10K.
Never spoke to him again after that.
I was at a club when I ran into an old high school buddy whose band was playing that night. They were really good.
I became their manager. I had nothing else going for me. I was desolate.
They made me the 5th member of the band and the money was split evenly.
I had to live on that dough.
They were based out of South Lake Tahoe and after a couple months of playing So Cal, we headed up there.
They were very popular in Tahoe.
The leader’s wife owned a very nice house there and I slept on the floor of one of the bedrooms. In fact, I slept out of a sleeping bag for about 6 months.
The first club we played was a dive called RoJo’s. It was there I met Charlotte. She was a fan of the band and one day while we were setting up, she showed up to say hello.
She was a real knockout. But had a mouth on her like a long shore man.
We sat a booth and my mouth was hanging open the whole time listening to her curse.
Charlotte swears it was the other way around, but she asked me out a few weeks later.
It turns out that the band had set the whole thing up. They were playing matchmaker as a joke. She was German Catholic and I was of the Hebraic persuasion.
Well, the joke was on them.
She asked me to move in with her. I don’t know if it was because I had a bed to finally sleep in or I loved her. Obviously, I cannot let her read this.
I lived with her through the summer of 1984. I gave up on the band. It was merely something to do to keep me from going nuts after the catastrophe earlier in So Cal.
So I asked her to move back to Long Beach with me and she said yes.
In February of 1985, we married. I went to work for my father as a project manager for his structural steel fab shop. I was making a living.
This was my swan song in the music business.
I just couldn’t take it any longer.
So I settled down and went straight.
Of course, if none of the horror had happened, I would never have met her.
So, in a few months, Charlotte and I will have been married for 30 years. And we produced a fine, beautiful, and smart daughter that wants to be a cop. The kid has taken the test and is waiting. Her fiancée is a Milwaukee cop. And she knows everyone at all the precincts so she has a leg up for getting the gig.
And that, my lovely readers, is the saga of how the music business finally beat me to a pulp.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS