Wrapper: Ecuadorian Maduro
Filler: Nicaraguan, Dominican
Size: 6 x 50
Today we take a look at the Nomad Signature Toro.
Samples were provided by Fred Rewey.
This was Nomad’s last release before Fred Rewey sold Nomad to Ezra Zion. To get into the scheme of things, the Toro is priced at $12. The mystical $12 cigar price.
The cigar was produced at the Nicaraguan Fabrica Oveja Negra factory.
Production, while ended, there are plenty of online stores selling them.
I found Fred Rewey’s Nomad Cigars to be a passionate brand. Rewey did not pop out cigars every two months but when he released a new cigar, each and every blend was excellent. He produced my favorite candela: GB-19. I’ve reviewed every single Nomad release.
I received my samples in September, 2018. Therefore, the sticks have had plenty of humi time for review.
I hesitated reviewing this cigar because, until now, I had no idea that they are still available online. Probably at various B&M’s as well.
I read that Rewey considers this his crowning glory of his Nomad catalog.
SIZES AND PRICING:
Shorty: 4 x 54 $11.00
Corona Gordo: 5.5 x 48 $11.50
Robusto: 5 x 50 $11.50
Toro: 6 x 50 $12.00
The wrapper is an oily paper brown hue. The stick feels perfectly filled without soft spots or hard areas. There is a combination of tooth alongside sections of silky-smooth areas.
Seams are hidden. Lots of veins. A decent triple cap. And has remained perfectly round. I know this is odd because cigars are round. But jostling about in my humidors, not all of my cigars remain round. I look at the foot prior to lighting up and I see a parabola instead of a circle. Must be voo doo for the Nomad.
SMELL THE GLOVE:
Big fat aromas of floral notes, chocolate, cedar, espresso, malt, caramel, pumpkin spice, barnyard, dried apricots, other vague sweet factors, a strong tobacco aroma, and brown sugar.
The cold draw presents flavors of red pepper, malt, chocolate, creaminess, espresso, cedar, floral notes, and dried fruit.
The cigar is constructed perfectly. The draw has an immaculate resistance on the draw. So, no need for my PerfecDraw cigar poker.
The cigar disseminates smoke like a Pittsburgh chimney.
The 5 months of humidor time has allowed the Signature to blast out of the gate with a huge head of steam. Flavors face plant on my palate with aplomb…smothering it with outrageous exuberance.
It is instantly complex. Transitions flow like lava. The finish is big and beautiful.
Red pepper becomes very potent black pepper. Followed by a phalanx of flavors: Creaminess, chocolate, malt, cedar, dried fruit, nuts, warm brioche, buttery, and mocha java.
If this is the start, I anxiously await the second half.
There is some citrus lurking. A combo of sweetened grapefruit and lemon zest.
The balance is already spot on. If you must spend $12 on a cigar, you won’t find a better example. Am I jumping the gun? Probably not.
Strength started out medium but jumped quickly to medium/full. I grab my horse’s feed bag just in case I don’t make it to the end. I do believe this is a blend best served on a full belly.
I read a couple of reviews of this cigar and I don’t think they did this cigar justice. Sometimes, it pays off being patient and not hurrying to get that review out in a timely manner. But since this cigar is still available for sale, I see no issues with waiting til the blend blooms to its potential instead of only getting a mere taste of its potential and then passing judgment.
I’m going to rate this cigar much higher than other reviewers who only waited a month or two before putting pen to paper.
I found the exact same experience with Nomad’s GB-19. I waited and waited on that baby before I reviewed it and it made my #3 cigar for 2016.
The ash grows longer and the smoke is even and sustained.
This is a major blend. Fred should be kissing his own tuchas for this baby.
Everything is through the roof. I hadn’t prepared a review yesterday for today. That’s my M.O. I prep the day before. But with all that’s going on in my family right now because of the death of officer Matthew Rittner, I just did not feel the urge.
So, this morning I pushed and prodded my review cigars and found this cigar. And that was that.
As I near the second third, I bring out my tape to measure it and knock the cigar to the floor dispelling the 2” long ash. Sonovabitch.
I will put this blend up against a Padron any day of the week. The tobacco is dark and extremely complex. It demands your presence of in the moment reflection to truly enjoy it. I love a great cigar that I can savor and not have to talk. Just enjoy. No distractions. Of course, I am typing this as I smoke the Signature. But after 11 years, it’s all muscle memory and it doesn’t distract. In fact, you should try this at home. Take a cigar and make notes. I know a lot of you do this because you email me with your impressions of good cigars. I enjoy that a lot. Don’t stop.
The strength remains at a potent medium/full. But I sense that in a short time, I will be dealing with shortness of breath, clammy skin, blurry vision, and the need to change my Depends.
My eyes are going. I take a photo (below) and I don’t notice I have ash remnants on the body of the cigar from when I dropped it on the floor. I’m sure excessive masturbation as a teen caused this.
Did you see the recent ELO concert from Wembley Stadium on TV? Never saw them live but I am just amazed at the musicianship of Jeff Lynne. The intricate chordal structures of his songs are astounding. Catch it.
The blend goes beyond the pale. It has become such a force of passionate blending that my head is spinning. I can’t remember a boutique blend, at this price point, as good as the Nomad Signature. Words don’t describe what I am experiencing. This cigar blend is perfect.
Now I know a lot of you say there is no such thing as a perfect cigar. Bullshit. A perfect cigar comes in many forms and blends. Finding them is the bitch. Every palate is different but mine is seasoned like a lot of guys my age. My palate screams flawless, superb, incomparable, and heavenly.
New flavors: graham cracker, cinnamon takes over the black pepper, faint Indian spices, a cacophony of both dried and fresh fruit, a small taste of mushroom, and gingerbread.
This blend is so smooth, you can ice skate on it.
I just don’t spend $60 on fivers. But now I will. I must have more.
I haven’t taken a sip of water since I started. I didn’t need one. I gulp a couple of sips and the flavor profile explodes on my palate like Mickey Mouse finding out that Goofy is fucking Minnie Mouse.
Flavors swirl around my head like a swarm of man-eating ferrets.
While the cigar improves exponentially with each puff, it becomes both linear but also branches off into dozens of side streets of constant surprise. Is there no end to this insanity?
The halfway point arrives. Construction is without peer. The smoke is leisurely and exciting at the same time.
It will make my top 25 list this year.
I was so disheartened to see Fred Rewey give up the ghost on his company. He has never disappointed. Yeah, I know his company is being handled by Ezra Zion…but Fred’s passion cannot be implanted. You smoke a Nomad, you smoke Fred. Which accounts for his lack of facial hair.
Strength reaches full tilt. I put on my readers so I can see the laptop screen.
ZZ Top is playing. I dated a girl back in the early 80’s who knew Billy Gibbons. A gorgeous babe. Billy sold her a ’57 mini T-Bird. It was pink of course. She never let me even sit in it; let alone take a drive in it. Strange chick.
It’s fucking freezing. The windows are open so I can breathe. And it’s something like minus 3000 degrees. Yet, this blend combats the cold like an ISIS fighter that puts down his bomb filled backpack and decides to go home and take care of his cat.
Don’t ask. I have no idea what that means. And no, I don’t smoke weed when I review.
Every single flavor I’ve described is in full force. But now, they are like a potter’s wheel spinning like crazy. Transitions are at the speed of sound. The finish…well, let’s say that I’m happier than a dog that eats his own shit.
Nicotine assaults my brain like white supremacists hitch hiking and being picked up by a bus full of Mossad agents.
As strong as the Signature is, it continues its quest to be the smoothest cigar on the planet.
You know how when you realize you are smoking a masterpiece and you are just left breathless; unable to wait to post a photo of that cigar on your FB page…unable to restrain your enthusiasm? I’m there right now. FB awaits.
I don’t talk about depth of field very often. Because most blends don’t match the criteria. The depth of this blend is so all encompassing that I want to plotz. I may burst into tears when I finish.
The last third canonizes the blend into history. This is a must try cigar. But don’t fuck up and smoke one two weeks after receipt. Do what I did…throw it into your humidor for half a year and reap the whirlwind.
Plenty of online stores carry this wonderful cigar. Do not hesitate. Take your wife’s wallet and remove everything if you have to. If she cuts you off, just show her a photo of me and all will be well.
Damn, Rewey…your retirement in the cigar business better not be permanent.
And now for something completely different:
This is where I regale you, or disgust you, with a story about my experiences in life; especially my time in the music industry.
Today is different.
Officer Matthew Rittner will have his funeral today; one week to the day he was killed serving a warrant with the Milwaukee TEU (Tactical Enforcement Unit).
My son in law, Hawk, is also on that team and was very close to Matt. The team is 35 men strong.
The tactical team will be leading the effort to make sure everything goes right today during a very long day.
I dropped my wife, Charlotte, off at their house at 6:00 this morning to babysit our 19-month-old grandson. Hawk and Katie left immediately for the church. There will be public viewing from 9am-1pm. A small service will be held afterwards. And then there will be a very long procession to the funeral home in Brookfield.
That service will be at 4:30pm.
The TEU team are a tight bunch of heroes. They never know what is in store for them every time they go out to serve dangerous warrants.
After the funeral, the team will go out to dinner together with their wives and celebrate Rittner’s life.
As soon as I finish this review, I will return to the kids’ house and help out in the babysitting.
I woke up this morning and switched on the news. Once again, a police officer has been murdered in the line of duty.
Detective Brian Simonsen, 42, a 19-year veteran of the NYC police department, was killed while trying to stop a burglary as he and his partner were nearby on business when it occurred. They were first on the scene. In this case, it was friendly fire that killed him.
No matter what you think of the police, the moment you find yourself in jeopardy, the first thing you do is dial 9-1-1. You want the police. You need the police.
Of course, there are bad cops that do bad things and shouldn’t have become cops to begin with. You don’t see on the news the good cops working every day to do their job of protecting the peace in your community. They don’t make headlines.
I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know all of Hawk’s fellow cops because Hawk is a mad BBQ fiend. So, parties abound when the weather is nice. Every man and woman; stand up humans.
I know the subliminal fear my family endures worrying about Hawk. No one wants to get that phone call or see two cops coming to our door. It’s a very tough way to make a living. Not long ago, Hawk and I were smoking cigars at his place and he said to me: “I’m tired of seeing dead bodies.”
It was spoken matter of fact; but I could tell this went deep.
Unless you are related to or friends with a first responder, you really don’t have an idea of what they endure each shift.
Matthew Rittner was only 35 years old. He leaves behind a wife and 4-year-old boy.
He gave his life in the effort to arrest a really bad man. He paid for that effort with his life.
The killer was arrested immediately and is in jail. I struggle with this. A lifetime spent in prison must be Abu Graib v. Dr. Torquemada. The suffering is lifelong…toothless and an asshole like a Skippy jar. Seems fair as the man arrested is in his 30’s; so, he has plenty of time to reflect.
But at the same time, I wonder if it wouldn’t have better if the cops took Darwin into their own hands and ended the scum bag’s life. I’m very conflicted.
I wish I was a better writer. I could have done better justice to the folks I look up to.
Be safe out there. And know that we citizens have your back no matter what the news reports.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS