Villiger Cabareté Maduro | Cigar Review

Wrapper: Nicaraguan Maduro
Binder: Dominican Cuban Seed
Filler: Dominican, Nicaraguan Piloto Cubano, Criollo, San Vicente & Ligero Cubano
Size: 6 x 52 “Toro Largo”
Body: Medium/Full
Price: $8.00 MSRP ($6.90 or less if you shop around)



Today we take a look at the Villiger Cabareté Maduro.

This cigar made its debut at the 2014 IPCPR trade show.

The Villiger Cabareté Maduro comes in 5 sizes:
Corona: 4.5 x 46
Robusto 5.25 x 50
Toro Largo: 6 x 54
Torpedo Largo: 6.25 x 52
Gordo: 5 x 60
Prices range from $6.35-$7.92.

I want to thank Garrett and my friends at Tulsa Hills Cigar Cellar and Market for sending me some nice samples. They aren’t an online store per se. But they are an upscale-you can get everything you need here for your next party-kind of place.

I’ve had this stick for a month or so. And Garrett told me they had it in their humidor for a while so it should be good to go.

Nice looking crisp box press. The wrapper is dark coffee bean with a tinge of reddish hue. Seams are nearly invisible. Lots of small veins and a gorgeous mottled look. The triple cap is virtually seamless. And the cigar band shows a scene from the beach at Cabareté. This is a small island in the Caribbean.

I clip the cap and find aromas of dark baking cocoa, dried fruit, spice, earthiness, espresso, hay, and cedar.
Time to light up.

The draw is good. Smoke pours into the room.
A spicy sweetness begins the journey.

The cigars are produced at Tabacalera Palma in the DR.

The strength hits a medium+ note immediately.

Creaminess is next in line to show itself. The char line is doing swell.

There is oiliness on the lips. Like dipping fine crusty French bread in olive oil. Man, I love that.
A floral note is next. Honeysuckle.

The disparate leaf stats make a very interesting blend and smoke. The Villiger Cabareté Maduro has no stereotypical the moment.
I found only a few online stores that carry the cigar. It is mostly carried by B & M’s. And they are Anthony’s Cigar Emporium, Puro Trader.

The ash is close to snow white. There is a gag there but it is X rated. Too early in the review for that shit.

The red pepper is ramping up significantly. The boys at Tulsa Hills only sent me one of these sticks so I had no opportunity to try one before this review. But so far, it’s doing well.

Here it is: Spice, creaminess, coffee, sweetness, buttery, honeysuckle, cedar, and a rich earthiness.

I’m trying to cheat fate as the ash is now over an inch long and is gorgeous. Do I let it fall into my lap or go for it?

The Villiger Cabareté Maduro is very heavy on the creaminess and sweetness. And as usual, what happens next is the flavor of caramel follows.

1-3/4” of ash gently disembarks the cigar in the ashtray and not on my lap. Good sign for the rest of the day.

I got my flat wounds thanks to brother Rick T. I took all of 15 minutes to change out the strings on my bass and voila! NOW it sounds like a fretless. It has that gorgeous growl of Jaco Pastorius riffs. Lovin’ it.

Back to the Villiger Cabareté Maduro. It is a mighty fine tasty cigar. But not very complex.

The second third begins.

The Villiger Cabareté Maduro was one of three blends that debuted at the 2014 IPCPR trade show. The other two blends are called “Trill” and “Cuellar Connecticut Kreme.” That’s a mouthful.

Fabian Barrantes, of Boutique Blends, came over to Villiger to be director of marketing and these three blends were his first endeavor.
Villiger is making a push to come out of the shadows of dry cured cigars into the premium cigar market. I’ve reviewed the Villiger La Libertad and found it to be a quite nice blend.

There is an intense woodiness that goes beyond the cedar flavor.

Some complexity begins to settle in.

Other flavors emerge: Chocolate fudge, raisins, a syrupy sweetness, and a touch of smokiness.
Things have really kicked in since the second third began.

The balance is sweet. Nice long finish. And a building complexity. Construction has been super. No burn issues. No wrapper issues. The triple cap is holding up just fine. You may, or may have not, noticed that I no longer chomp on cigars. I do it the way a gentleman smokes a cigar; like sipping on a fine cognac. And therefore; no ragged ugly cap.

I’d like to have more of these.

The price point. Don’t know what Tulsa Hills Cigar Cellar and Market sell them for but the going rate seems to be $6.50 for the Toro. No one is charging the $8 MSRP price tag. This is a damn fine price for this stick. It is one of those great blends that just keeps getting better and better with each puff.

I shall insert this into “The Katman’s List of 129 Great Cigars in the $5.00-$6.50 Range.”

I reach the halfway point.

I’ve invested 45 minutes in smoke time.

The strength moves up to medium/full.

And we now have deep complexity. Villiger pointed to centerfield, swung at the pitch, and hit it out of the park with this blend.
If I didn’t know better, I’d classify this cigar in the $8-$9 range.

I remove the cigar band to discover how beautiful it is.

I changed the cable music channel to the Blues. Love the blues. Old and new. The British Invasion got it right. They learned their trade by listening to American blues artists.
I took the long way around when I was young. I loved jazz when I was an early teen. My cousin Fred helped me along with that as it was mostly what he loved to play. The rest of the time, he was doing 3-5 sessions per day.
So I sashayed between jazz and the blues. That’s the perfect bedrock for learning about rock n roll. You’d be shocked at how many players have zero knowledge of the blues. I played at a jam and told the house band, when I got on stage, “Let’s play some blues.”
They didn’t have a clue. So the drummer started playing Zep. He yelled at me in anger that this was the blues. Dumb ass. I just walked off the stage. Fuck ‘em.

This is one of the reasons I never got into metal or hard rock. No sense of a blues background except for the really knowledgeable bands.
Thank God I never had to play, “It’s My Party and I Will Cry If I Want To” by Leslie Gore.
Or “Tie a Yellow Ribbon.” Yuck.
The disco period sent me into a 7 year depression.

Back to the Villiger Cabareté Maduro. The smoke is smooth and long. Buttery smooth.

The spiciness takes another leap forward. My sinuses clear out.

The last third begins and I’m screaming laughter. The Villiger Cabareté Maduro is entertaining me like a sea of swarming simbas.

The strength reaches full bodied.
The dreaded Vitamin N appears.

This is a fun blend. It is a great mix of tobaccos. Kudos to the folks at Villiger and Fabian Barrantes.

The flavor list hasn’t changed. Doesn’t need to. Doing just fine thank you.
I think I will beg Villiger to get on their reviewer’s list. Never underestimate begging.

I’ve smoked cigars in the double digit price range that aren’t nearly as good as the Villiger Cabareté Maduro.

I’m still impressed with the construction. The ash seems to have a destiny to last 1-3/4”.

As flavorful as it is, this last part of the cigar explodes. Everything ramps up. Like a spinning disco ball, it is shooting out flavors at lightning speed.

Yes, I highly recommend the Villiger Cabareté Maduro. For its excellence in blending and its price point.

While I normally stay away from big cigars like this, it was perfect. The long slow build and the eventual stage of complexity was wonderful.
If you buy these cigars, tell them the Katman sent you.

And now for something completely different:

A tale of New York City and commercial construction and the mob.

Back in the 90’s, La Guardia Airport was going through some renovations. I was the senior project manager for the high end foo foo gingerbread stuff while working for a company in Phoenix. We did glass rail and other non-ferrous construction. I had to fly there regularly.


What I didn’t know, going into this, was the corrupt stranglehold the unions had on everything.

The Iron Worker’s union business agent had decided to charge us triple time without cause or reason. We went back and forth for a month on this and I got nowhere. The owner of my company was a weasel who told me to take care of it but would not get involved himself. No back bone. I was watching my budget go down the drain.

Each time I arrived at the job site, my hired NYC crews were nowhere to be seen. Other trades would get on their radios, alerting my men, that I was there so by the time I got back to where they were supposed to be working, there they were with an Alfred E. Newman look on their faces…”What? Me worry?”

I finally demanded a meeting with the local BA. I had to scuttle this triple time thing in the bud or we would take a horrendous loss on the job.
We were to meet at the Waldorf Astoria. It was winter and very cold.

I stood in the lobby waiting. They were late. They were sending me a message. I was unimportant. I got it.

And then they walked in. Four guys in trench coats. All of them huge guys. Like a Godfather movie.
And they all sounded very New York.
“Hey. How you doin’?”

The BA and I shook hands but the other 3 refused. We went into the empty dining room and sat down.
The BA and I sat at one table and the other three sat at separate tables all by their lonesome. They had surrounded me.

“Didja’ know that I’m the third BA in a year for this local?”
“No.” Gulp.
“Yeah, that’s right. The last BA just disappeared one night about 3 months ago. Hasn’t been seen from since. So I got the job.”
Double gulp.

And then he leaned into me and asked why I was causing so many problems? I told him that there was no basis for charging me triple time during ordinary working hours.
All four of them laughed hard.

“Look here, kid…I say its triple time so that’s what it is. Capiche?”
I told him my budget would not allow for that.
They laughed again.

I was literally pissing my pants. I was going to get whacked if I pursued this.

When I insisted that we pay them standard pay, one of the guys opened his coat to show me his shoulder holster. He never said a word.

“You should know how t’ings run around here, kid. It goes like I say it goes. Capiche?”
My mouth was so dry, I couldn’t speak so I just shook my head. I didn’t have a shoulder holster.

And with that, they got up and marched out the front door of the hotel. Actually, more of a swagger.

I went back to my hotel and said, “Fuck it.” I opened the pay bar and downed two bottles of booze one after the other. It was 10am.

I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. What if I had really pushed it? Would I have disappeared?

I called the owner of my company and told him how it went. He was pissed off at me for not “handling” it correctly. I got mad. I yelled into the phone, “Well, why the fuck don’t you fly out here and you can straighten it out?”

And of course, I was held completely responsible for the job going way over budget.
I really hate construction. I’m so glad I’m retired. Protection Status


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2 replies

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