Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf Sun Grown Maduro
Binder: Nicaraguan (Dual Binder)
Size: 5.5 x 52 “Petite Belicoso”
Price: $8.80 MSRP
Humidor Aging Time: 4 months
It’s good to be back and I want to thank all of you who left comments and sent me many, many emails wishing me a speedy recovery.
Today we take a look at the Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro.
I chose this cigar to review because after 4-5 weeks of having no sense of taste, it was the first cigar I smoked that I could taste and it tasted pretty damn good. So all hail RP.
Just like you, I get hundreds of emails from big box online cigar stores and the smaller boutique stores and manufacturers. I’ve been left in the dust so I won’t be able to keep up with the new releases. I do have a handful of some very good cigars I will review but after that…I will be reviewing everyday cigars that I’m sure you’ve smoked. The point is that I now have the strength to sit and type for 2-3 hours and take photos and smoke an entire cigar. This makes me happy. So please bear with me. I can’t keep up with the Big Guy reviewers and their assessments of the new blends.
Conventional wisdom would dictate that my first review in almost 6 weeks should start with a milder body cigar.
So, in preparation of smoking a full body cigar, I’ve given direction to my wife, Charlotte. When cause and effect makes me pass out halfway through, she will take a photo of me; with my head lying on the laptop keyboard…and drool escaping from my lips. Photographic proof that I am a bona fide wuss.
I’m not quite ready to discuss the findings of my medical issues. The good news is I’m fine. It takes more than my kidneys quitting on me to take this old codger down. But I can tell you this…..I was lucky in finding the most brilliant doctor I’ve seen in my 66 years…and I truly hate doctors…What I learned turned out to be a cautionary tale for not only me; but every one of my readers. What happened to me could affect anyone….More to come….
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro has a gorgeous, oily brown wrapper. It glistens in the sunlight.
Each stick is different…one is as smooth as my bottom and another has a nice amount of toothiness.
Construction is a bit sloppy with seams a bit out of whack. The belicoso cap is not uniform. Definitely no number #9 rollers used on this batch.
The box press is more of an oval.
I like the cigar band, though.
SIZES AND PRICING: (All Prices are MSRP)
Robusto: 5 x 50 $8.60
Petite Belicoso: 5.5 x 52 $8.80
Sixty: 6 x 60 $10.40
Toro: 6.5 x 52 $8.80
Lancero: 7.5 x 38 $8.60
AROMAS AND COLD DRAW NOTES:
From the wrapper, I smell notes of tropical fruit, dark black raisins, spice, Gran Marnier, rich dark cocoa, exotic coffee beans, and cedar. This is one decadently aromatic cigar blend.
From the clipped cap and the foot, I smell spicy red pepper, dark chocolate, raisins, coffee, cedar, Gran Marnier, and a large dose of that tropical fruit component.
The cold draw presents flavors of rich dark chocolate, coffee, fruit, raisins, red pepper, cedar, and wet wood.
Wow. The first puffs are a mighty wind of spice bomb. My hair is now an afro again.
The draw is superb. Flavors come rushing by my taste buds looming large full of chocolate, coffee, creaminess, cedar, and fruit. This baby wastes no time entertaining me.
I know it’s me but I have a helluva time getting a box press to burn correctly. I have no friggin idea why. First minor touch up is required.
My daughter and her husband bought me a new Sony DSLR camera. It is more complicated than my laptop. The instruction manual is 245 pages long. The only thing it won’t do is give me head; after all, there are limits.
But slowly, over the last 5 weeks or so I’ve figured out the easy stuff and can take a decent photo. Still…a long way to go.
The char line is less than stellar. Another touch up required.
Strength hit medium/full from the get go. I feel a bit light headed but I did something I don’t normally do…I had a bowl of cereal prior to starting the review.
The red pepper makes a big surge and burns my nose hairs into extinction. My eyes are watering. My nose is running. I feel like I’ve been Maced.
One inch into the cigar, here are the flavors: Spice, chocolate, coffee, dried fruit, creaminess, toffee, cedar, and my beloved array of malts.
The malts are moving fast now. Climbing the tower of power.
Strength is now officially man-killing full body.
I’m having flashbacks of when I was in the hospital on the first night when they stuck the giant, fire hose sized catheter into my tiny pee pee. And the doc is telling me to come to the light, come to the light.
Screams emitted from my mouth that even dogs couldn’t hear.
I am only a so so RP fan. He has put out some very decent blends but he is like a Ford assembly line with his blends so I was skeptical about this one. RP hit the 10 ring with this blend. I’m diggin it baby.
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is solidly packed and a very slow smoke. Yet the draw is spot on.
I bought a dust/water cover for my new camera. It’s too big and cumbersome. I could cover my Chevy Silverado with it. Can’t find a smaller one so I did the right thing and don’t let it hang from my neck while smoking. Duh!
The cigar goes out. Drat.
Oh but yeah baby, re-lighting it livens up the flavors with impressive intensity.
This is one complex blend. Flavors morph and intertwine like a Roman orgy.
Smoke time is 35 minutes.
A sip of water brings that tropical fruit element to the forefront.
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is not for the faint of heart. It is a strong cigar blend.
The cocoa and coffee slip down the list. A new element appears: Nutty. A sweet nut like raw cashew or hazelnut.
The creaminess begins to fade. Either that or my brain is beginning to melt.
Yeah, that was a great idea to do my first review on an extremely strong cigar.
I’m back now. I slipped into a momentary coma. I’m OK.
I am nearing the halfway point.
God just whispered in my ear that I’m a schmuck.
A bona fide sweetness appears. The spicy pepper is still strong but smooth. My toupee stopped spinning as a result.
And here we are at the halfway point.
Smoke time is 45 minutes.
And the cigar goes out on me again. WTF?
Probably due to the fact that it is extremely humid in Milwaukee. We’ve gotten a lot of rain and thunderstorms and the humidity is probably around 110%.
Yet, I’m rewarded with a big, bold group of flavors each time I re-light.
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is definitely made for men with hairy chests. No others need apply.
Since my testosterone levels have dropped immensely due to my age, not only am I almost a woman, my once hairy chest is hairless. Like a Chihuahua.
Creaminess has boldly returned and the spiciness is diminishing. This allows the chocolate and coffee to return complemented by the wonderful nuttiness and malts.
The second half is most definitively the Sweet Spot of this blend.
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is a great cigar. I have one left and I shall let it lie dormant until I am once again used to smoking cigars on a regular basis.
The char line issues are a bit annoying…but then I’m annoying and yet you still read me. Go figure.
Smoke time is one hour 10 minutes.
Bam. Flavor explosion. Everything but the kitchen sink.
It is now a nicotine bomb. I feel life slipping away. My cat is sitting on top of my jewelry work bench staring at me like the Cheshire Cat. It’s freaking me out.
Mind you, I haven’t smoked 5 cigars in 6 weeks so it is affecting me more than it would normally. I’ve become a wuss as I venture back into a routine.
All the original flavors come back like a hurricane.
But my testicles have ascended into my body from the strength of the blend.
As I look out the bedroom window, to my right, I see huge black clouds rolling in. More rain. More humidity. I’m a California boy. I still can’t get used to Midwest humidity.
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is impressive. Flavors are complex. A very rich blend. And one that will turn your pubes snow white if you aren’t used to very strong blends.
Did I mention I almost got mugged going into my new apartment building? It is a security building requiring one to use a key to get in. If I hadn’t flashed my .45 Glock, I may have gotten the shit kicked out of me. Turns out the police were staking out the block because two assholes were dealing drugs to tenants. Unmarked cars were all over the place plus a disguised van with surveillance gear in it. So they must have had a good laugh.
But hours later, the two thugs were sitting in their car..with black tinted windows, and the cops stormed the car breaking the windows and dragged both out of the windows and arrested them. Why they didn’t intervene when I was about to be attacked is beyond me.
Oh right…the cigar. Where was I?
The Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro has now mellowed out considerably. Still strong but much more balanced.
Either the nicotine has calmed down…or I died. You didn’t know that Jews immediately return to their former selves in just minutes. Call me Katman 2.0.
The price point on the Rocky Patel Special Reserve Sun Grown Maduro is right where it should be. I checked the online stores and prices are very close to the MSRP. You only save a few shekels per cigar. Still, a good buy.
I recommend you try it if you haven’t already. Unless you are not a full body blend smoker. This will kill you.
Well dear readers, I think I did OK for my first time back in over 6 weeks. It should improve as I get back into the swing of things.
See you tomorrow.
And now for something completely different:
Jews do not hunt.
Let me repeat that….Jews do not hunt.
My new son-in-law hunts everything that moves using both a gun and a bow. As a Milwaukee SWAT Team member he needs that emotional release.
And then there’s me….
I was 15 when my parents bought me a very cool German-made pellet rifle.
I used it for shooting at a little moving electric target like they have at carnivals.
Then I made a huge discovery….We had holly bushes in the front yard and the little green berries fit perfectly in the gun.
I began to terrorize the neighborhood kids. I would sit on our roof, like a sniper, and shoot at their lunch boxes as they passed by the house.
One fateful day, a younger kid who lived a few houses down, dared me to shoot him in the leg with a holly berry. So he stood about 30 feet away and I nailed him in the side of the leg.
He ran screaming down the street yelling “Mommy!” the whole way.
If this had happened today, I’d be serving 5-10 years at Terminal Island Prison.
But it was a kinder gentler time and all that happened was an apology by me and loss of the use of the gun for a month.
This was just in time for Halloween.
So I sat up on my sniper roof perch and shot holes in the kids treat bags as they passed the house. Never got caught and didn’t shoot anyone.
A couple years later, a good friend and I went out behind his house in a new tract with a power plant less than a quarter of a mile away.
The area was full of trees and brush and bodies of water.
My buddy said he saw a sparrow in a tree about 50 yards away and bet me I couldn’t shoot it.
I took careful aim and Bang! I nailed it and watched as it fell into the lush green plants lining the embankment of the river bed.
I screamed. And made a beeline for where I thought the bird fell. We looked for an hour but couldn’t find it.
I didn’t sleep that night.
That famous Jewish guilt kicked in big time. I took the life of a bird minding its own business and now I was going to hell.
That incident had such a lasting impact on me that, to this day, I can’t bring myself to go hunting. And it’s not due to lack of weapons.
Many years later, around 1991, we had to leave California for Phoenix because California had gotten hit by a recession that seemed to hit the state every 10 years and affected construction.
Charlotte had some family there and we stayed with them.
She has two half-sisters and two half-brothers. And a step father who really meant nothing to her. And her mother abandoned her at age 5. But we had no other place to go.
One day, they convinced me to go deer hunting. They harassed me until I consented.
One of the twin sisters’ boyfriends came with us. He was a paranoid psychotic but a nice guy.
The first day, one of the brothers shot a deer but it wasn’t a kill shot. The sisters’ boyfriend ran to the deer….mounted the dying animal and began stabbing the shit out of it like a mad man with a crazed look in his eyes.
At that point, all I wanted to was get the fuck out of there. Who might be next?
Fortunately, a couple years later, the boyfriend committed suicide so the family’s DNA came to an abrupt halt.
Thank you, Mr. Darwin.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS