Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra Sun Grown
Size: 7 x 54 “Perfecto”
Price: $13.00 MSRP
Today we take a look at the La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio.
There is a wealth of information on the Mysterioso and the Mysterio Oscuro. But everyone seems to shun this cigar. No idea why.
It has approximately 7-8 weeks of humidor time. This is a La Flor and I hope this is enough time. I have only one so I’m going for broke.
This is such a beautiful cigar. You don’t want to ruin it by smoking it, you want to frame it and bow to it when you pass it in the hallway.
One of the most stunning things about the cigar is the ends. The tip, or cap, is a nipple like twisted pig tail made of Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro. Same goes for the foot. It is a shame to have to remove the nipple to smoke it. I’m guessing that only #9 rollers were in on this.
The construction is excellent with nearly invisible seams, very few veins, an oily, tawny brown colored wrapper, and packed perfectly with the right amount of give. No tooth and smooth to the touch.
I gently clip the cap and find aromas of dark, sweet chocolate, spice, hay, dried apricot along the shaft, and floral notes.
Time to light up.
Which brings me to this thought about perfectos. I never cut back the foot; regardless how small it is. The blender had an idea about this when he designed the cigar and it may only be a slight pain in the ass for a minute or two. Let it roll, baby.
The first flavors are sweetness; stemming from a brown sugar element, rich tobacco taste, a foray into a touch of butterscotch, buttery smooth, cedar, a little salty, and roasted nuts.
This is a hefty sized stick so I shall write a rock n roll story while I review so the review doesn’t end up being 10,000 words.
The butterscotch transitions into maple. And that maple element gets stronger with each puff. I can taste pancakes now. I make great pancakes but it is such a pain in the ass and so fattening. Sometimes, we have pancakes for dinner. (An LSD flashback – Sorry).
The maple brings out a bit of sweet coffee. The La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio is on a sweetie pie bender.
Creaminess becomes an integral part of the flavor profile at this point. There seems to be a sweetness overload. Too much of a good thing.
The second third begins.
Strength moves to medium body.
Some lemon citrus shows up. In a blink of an eye, like a light switch, it goes from not being there to becoming the star of the show.
It over-amps the creaminess and pushes it back on down the line.
I’m beginning to understand why there are a gazillion Oscuro reviews of this cigar and maybe 5 of the Natural. I picked the wrong one.
Nothing sizzling going on. If I were blind taste testing the La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio, I would have to rate it low. And expect it to be in the $5-$6 range. This is, by no means, a $13 cigar.
Maybe a couple months is not long enough humidor time but I doubt it.
The balance is all out of whack. The citrus flavor is over powering everything.
I have no idea why a Ligero cigar has zero spice content until now…
I reach the halfway point.
A bit of black pepper arrives.
I suppose that the cigar will do the usual song and dance and find its sweet spot in the last third.
Never been a big fan of mostly Dominican blends. They don’t seem to have the depth of character other blends have…generally speaking.
I’m impressed with the construction. Two months in my humidor and no issues due to the crazy weather. The burn line goes from razor sharp to the smallest amount of waviness. No wrapper issues. And the cap is doing all right. And the ash is 1-3/4” long. This will probably back fire on me.
This is disappointing. The lemon citrus is dominating the entire flavor profile. The $13 La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio should be complex, full of interesting flavors, balanced and with a long finish. It has none of that.
A bit of creaminess re-surfaces. Anything helps.
The price point. HA! Clearly, the reason hardly any reviewer is touching this blend is due to they don’t want to disrespect LFD out of the goodness of their hearts or because LFD is a sponsor. In fact, LFD is a sponsor for the Katman. I’m supposed to get the new 707 next week. Of course, it has already been released for sale. I have to nag Vanessa every time. In fact, there are a couple new LFD blends out that I printed the press releases for and I didn’t get samples for review. I had the same issues with La Palina.
In fact, both LFD and La Palina, post my reviews to their web site. Yet they can’t seem to muster the standup position of paying me some respect. This is why I have so few sponsors. I won’t publish press releases from La Palina or LFD any longer.
So to the smart ass commenters that tell me if I behaved better, I’d have more sponsors don’t have a clue what they are talking about. I’m not willing to put up with a manufacturer’s bullshit with a “May I have another?” attitude. And that costs me sponsors. Plus, writing a review of one of their cigars that doesn’t exactly fawn all over it makes them unhappy with me too.
So it has nothing to do with whether I behave or not. It is two reasons: First, I won’t take their disrespect lying down; and second, I might write a so so review that doesn’t praise the shit out of the cigar.
The last third begins.
The creaminess returns. So does the maple, caramel, sweetness, nuts, cedar, rich earthiness, sweet coffee, and a floral note.
The strength hits medium/full.
The La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio finally behaves correctly. But too little, too late.
For chrissakes, this is a $13 stick. I should have been blown out of my new sneakers.
Side note: you know when it is time for new sneakers when the ones you own can feel the slushy ground outside in your socks. I got a good 4 years out of them so it was time.
I was at Costco yesterday getting prescriptions and I saw a pair of Fila Men’s Interstellar 2 Running Shoes. Normally, $60. I snagged a pair for $19.99. Isn’t getting new sneakers a thrilling experience…for a week. You carefully walk in them so they don’t get dirty or scuffed. And then they do and you don’t give a shit any longer.
The La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio is much better now. The power of the citrus really ruined the cigar.
If the cigar blend had started out like what I taste now, I would have praised the shit out of it.
I take a sip of water and the citrus makes it taste like lemonade.
Something is wrong. How could the LFD people release a cigar, for this crazy price point, and it is way off the mark? Did I get a bum cigar? Or did the LFD folks think that the gimmick of the Maduro pigtail cap and foot would sell the cigar? In my opinion, it is less than what we come to expect from this company. I would really like to try the Oscuro version.
Even though, the La Flor Dominicana Ligero Mysterio starts off well and ends well, I cannot recommend it.
It has zero complexity and an off kilter flavor profile. They should be ashamed of themselves for selling a blend of this low quality for $13.00.
Do not purchase one. It is money down the toilet. I will try to get hold of the Oscuro for comparison.
And now for something completely different:
Now what the hell story haven’t I told you 33 times?
My grandmother died. It was 1964. My grandfather did something special for our family. My father was an only child so I was his only grandson.
He decided to take me to Israel and Europe in the summer of 1965. And he sent my parents and sister to Hawaii. Don’t remember which island.
Getting all those vaccinations prior to the trip was torturous. Sons of bitches hurt and then continued to hurt all weekend. I always got the shots after school on a Friday. Plus they made me feel ill. I was getting cholera, typhus, and some other dreaded disease vaccinations. And of course, they came in relays of two or three shots per week for just one disease. You never notice how many times your friends give you a friendly punch in the arm until you’ve had your third cholera shot there.
We spent a month in Israel. Grandpa booked a tour out of a synagogue in L.A. even though he was living in Cleveland.
There was about 40 adults and five teens. Me included. If you look to the right of this page, you will see Frieda and I standing on the Eiffel Tower. She was my first girlfriend. I was 15. And so was she.
Frieda was Polish. Her parents spent a couple years in Auschwitz and I remember the moment they showed me their tattoos given to them by the Nazis. The rest of the time, they always wore long sleeved shirts.
I had never kissed a girl. And one night, the other couple and Frieda and I took one of the hotel rooms at had a make out session.
I was so nervous, that I thought I was going to vomit and I kept getting up from the hotel bed and ran into the bathroom where I calmed down. I was having one anxiety attack after another.
Everyone asked if I was OK?
Well, I girded my loins and got down to it. I was a natural. I never got a boner like that in my life..to this day, that boner should have gotten an award. But nowhere to put it.
Over the rest of the tour, Frieda and I made out every chance we could. We were on buses a lot. They had us booked into seeing every damn tourist spot in Israel and Europe. So us kids sat at the back of the bus and made out.
It was summer and it was hot. Back then, these tour buses had no air conditioning. Can you imagine 40 Jews on a bus with no A/C? Oy Gevalt. The whining and complaining.
I made my first move. I slipped my hand up Frieda’s blouse and Shazam! I had breast. (Of course, once I had it, I didn’t know what to do with it.)
I was young and dumb. I had no idea that the back rows of the bus knew exactly what was happening. Their clucking noises should have tipped me off.
The trip comes to an end. Frieda and her parents lived in Beverly Hills. The parents owned a very upscale apartment building.
So the after tour party was held at their place. Everyone brought their photos and home movies.
I remember like it was yesterday. (You know where I’m going with this.). It is burned into my puny brain.
Frieda is sitting on the couch and I am sitting on the floor in front of her. This time, all the close family of the people on the tour were there too. So had to be at least 100 people.
We’re watching and laughing at the movies. And then there it was. In color. A 2 minute shot of me feeling up Frieda. Frieda screamed and ran to her bedroom. Her mother screamed and followed Frieda. The father was livid. Everyone else laughed so hard they could barely breathe.
Needless to say, Frieda wrote me a Dear John letter because her parents forbade me to ever see her again. Which was OK with me. Long Beach to Beverly Hills was a long drive. And I had to car pool it with the other teen couple that were a year older and had driver’s licenses.
Since I was 15, I was the hero of my group of friends. None of them had gotten to second base. And truthfully speaking, hardly any of them had kissed a girl.
One of their problems was that my group of friends were the smartest guys in the school. So we were nerds and geeks. Only Skip and I were devilishly handsome. The rest looked like ogres.
But not long after that, the folk era was in full swing. I bought a 5 string Gibson banjo and took lessons from the banjo player of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. John McEwen. He had to stop giving me lessons when he joined that band.
So then Skip and I changed our affiliations from the geek cadre to the musician group of fellas. Much cooler. At the same time, I began to play bass. Bought a Hofner at a pawn shop in downtown Long Beach for $80.
If you look on the right side of this page with all the photos of me, you can see me with my first bass. I was either 15 or 16.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS