Wrapper: Undisclosed
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Undisclosed
Size: 5 x 52 Robusto
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $9.89

Today we take a look at the Viaje Hamaki Omakase.
Thanks to Jayson Oertel.
This is a limited-edition release but I found several online stores that carry them. As I don’t recommend stores I’ve never used, I can’t openly stand behind them. You can Google them. But your best for finding this cigar is most probably your local B&M.

BACKGROUND:
According to Halfwheel.com:
“Hamaki was released once before, in 2017, a 6 x 54 box-pressed torpedo. That cigar was a Dominican puro made at Quesada, the 2019 version is being made at Tabacos Valle de Jalapa S.A. in Nicaragua.

“Both cigars get new packaging which is similar to labels used on Suntory’s Japanese whisky, best known for the Hibiki and Yamazaki brands.”

APPEARANCE:
I love the way this stick looks. That wrapper is beautifully mottled. Like a brindle colored Boxer dog. Or sprayed by Banksy. It is oily and slippery in appearance.

The cigar band has no skulls on it, but rather Japanese script. Which when translated, means “Little Squaw with iPhone Whose Batteries Exploded.” I don’t understand it but I give it props for being inscrutable.

Seams are clearly visible. A world of veins. It’s lumpy and bumpy like my face in 11th grade. The triple cap is perfectly applied. And it has a partially closed foot.

SMELL THE GLOVE:
I’ve been battling, off and on, a summer cold/flu. So, I’m chock full of cold pills and industrial strength Afrin nasal spray attached to my nose using a beer can cap.

First up is a healthy dose of cinnamon. Following that, nuances of black and red pepper, rich black licorice, malt, graham cracker, cocoa, a bit of cream, cedar, and some barnyard.

Sniffing cigars should only be done by professionals. Especially, when the stick is pepper ridden. I begin a marathon of sneezing fits that seems to never end; totally clogging my sinuses. I release the flood gates on the Afrin and wait a few minutes. I’m going to pay for this later.

First, “Space Oddity” and then “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” Nice start.

The cold draw presents flavors of licorice, malt, cedar, black pepper, barnyard, cocoa, and cinnamon.

FIRST THIRD:
There is a little more resistance to the draw than I like so I drag out my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool and loosen the thing up a bit. Good to go.
The Viaje Hamaki Omakase wastes no time in kicking arse. (Sorry Anna).

Flavors spew from the cigar like a thunderclap on a quiet desert night. Big elements of black pepper, malt, cedar, licorice, cinnamon, mocha java, creaminess, and a touch of vanilla.
Complexity immediately digs a foxhole and refuses to capitulate.

Strength goes for gold by hitting medium/full right off the bat. But smooth and balanced in its approach.
The spiciness might be too much for some smokers. I dig it. I dig a pony. My bet it will calm down along the journey.
The burn is spot on.

I enjoy most Viaje blends. But Andre Farkas really swung for the fences with this unusual blend. I adore the Aganorsa blends but the Hamaki Omakase is darker and foreboding. It is a much richer experience than a lot of other Viaje concoctions. Sort of the difference between eating ice cream or cheesecake.

The solid ash does a swan dive and just misses the naughty bits. Forgot the lap Kevlar this morning.

With each puff, I realize I am smoking something special. Nothing like any cigar I’ve smoked lately. The dark, deep richness is nearly overwhelming in its desire to please. The smoke coats my teeth and the finish is bottomless.

I get a lot of correspondence and comments from smokers who can’t taste the crazy stuff that I and other reviewers taste during reviews. For those that like a good cigar but do not dissect them, you need to find this baby and snag as many as your wife will allow. I generally reassure readers that I only taste the intense flavors while reviewing as it takes a lot of focus to rip the guts apart. It takes a lot of me. But it does allow for me to convey what I think the blender intended. After that, it is up to me to decide whether I think it’s a good cigar to recommend. And remember how selective the palate is and how subjective it is in every person. Some flavors are irrefutable, but a lot are merely what my palate picks up. Your palate will be different.

SECOND THIRD:
The first third took 25 minutes to complete.

The stick is very consistent. On point for an upward trajectory is my guess.
A delicious delivery system. As predicted, the spiciness relents to a more balanced approach.

This is more of a savory cigar with touches of sweetness that give the blend just the right amount of point/counterpoint. The sweetness seems not so much from made up flavors in my head; but rather, a natural, organic sweetness emanating from the quality of the tobacco and its aging.

If you get all those online cigar emails every day, you can go crazy trying to decide how to spend your hard-earned dough. And those damned limited editions that come and go in a blink of an eye can cause extreme bitterness that you just don’t have the dough to go nuts. When I started doing this 10 years ago, there was no onslaught of brilliant boutique blends hitting the shelves daily. Hence, 80% of my reviews in the archives are catalog cigars that are still sold today. There are also a lot of reviews for cigars now defunct.

The 4th is my grandson’s 2nd birthday. The proud parents are throwing him an over the top birthday party. Of which, little Scotty will have absolutely no idea what’s going on. They live 10 minutes from us. Their neighborhood is full of cops and firefighters. They have a parade that goes up and down the streets of their neighborhoods. So, we get to celebrate our freedom baby’s birthday and Independence Day at the same time. That’s a good birth date to have. My birthday is on the same date that Moses descended from Mt. Sinai and destroyed the tablets while telling the Israelites to go fish…not as good.

One thing I think today’s smokers take for granted…the absolute intensification of disparate blends being released at breakneck speed. Unless you have cash leaking from your orifices, it’s hard to keep up. Just 10 years ago, supplies were limited to only a few boutique brands.

The Viaje Hamaki Omakase is cruising. I like how Farkas took a different route with this blend. The same way I like how Alec Bradley took a different route by introducing his Magic Toast.

I hate using this term, but the blend is very earthy. I don’t know what dirt tastes like. The dictionary describes the word: “Resembling or suggestive of earth or soil.” This is why I don’t like the term. Maybe it’s the rich soil the leaves were grown in that creates that indescribable depth to the blend. While other cigars seem to taste like they were grown in a sterile lab.

Pretty sure that Farkas is proud of this stick.
This is a pure wonder of masterful blending. I don’t have a single complaint or criticism.

The strength has remained at an easy going medium/full. So far, no nicotine.

Creaminess has been leading the pack for some while. The sweet factors are making their voices heard now: vanilla sponge cake, honey almonds, and sweet coffee. (I wouldn’t have tasted these flavors if not for twisting and contorting my face into a Salvador Dali painting).

I’m also happy that the decision was made to display the workmanship of this blend presented in a Robusto size…instead of some giant Gordo.

Steppenwolf is playing. Back in the late 60’s, your band had to play all their hits at gigs. I remember being excited the first time we played “Born to be Wild.” And I got to play that iconic bass line at the end of the tune.

LAST THIRD:
Smoke time is an hour.
Nicotine creeps in.

The last third of a Robusto is tricky. There is only 1-5/8” left. What remains of the journey? Does it increase the peace or does it go down in flames?

I have the answer. The Viaje Hamaki Omakase excels at excellence. There is no harshness or increase of strength. Sure, the nicotine is beginning to blind me but I have a leash for the cat to guide me around for half an hour after I finish a nicotine laden blend.

I overuse the term, smooth. But in this case, it is the true identity of the Omakase. It is slippery like an eel while at the same time a warm blankey bringing me infantile, gleeful emotions.

Van the Man. Never saw him live. My bad. Back in the day, when he was in Them and did the song “Gloria,” it was the song to play at every gig. We’d play love-ins with blacklights and strobe lights. We would always use the middle section for a ‘freak-out.’ I did an extended solo on the bass using one of the first fuzz boxes available. The stoned Hippies went nuts. And I got laid. (Sorry Anna).

One note to my musician readers…I believe it was we players that put an end to strobes being used at gigs. Try and play your instrument while you are having an epileptic fit.

I’m now in the reclined position like at a Passover Seder. Just enjoying the blend without dissecting it. Sure, lots of flavor…but this stick is a comforting blend that puts the soul in full appreciation mode. Good will to all men and women.

Call around to your B&M’s to see if they still have some. Google the cigar for online stores. If I had Jayson’s money, I’d have bought a few boxes.

We smokers are always full of remorse. Buyer’s remorse for being tricked into buying a crap cigar. Remorse for not pulling the trigger fast enough on a limited blend. And remorse for not being born rich and good looking.

A sip of water, and the flavors explode. A whole new world opens up with an inch to go. Flavors become distinct rather than flailing in mosh pit. It’s like my palate is in a paint ball fight…and I’m being pelted by an onslaught. The nicotine actually calms down.

The balance is now perfect for those that dig sweet and savory.
A beautiful experience.

RATING: 94

And for something completely different:

My mother’s cousin, Fred Selden, is an award-winning reed player. He is 4 years older than me. He was my hero growing up as no one else in my family were musicians.

Fred is a brilliant player. So much so, that at the age of 13, he took his own jazz band to Europe to tour. He has played with just about everyone. And in the last couple of decades, he has been heavily involved in the movie industry. Either as a player or composer.

From the Fred Selden web site:
“Dr. Fred Selden is a Grammy nominated conductor, arranger and composer, and one of LA’s top session players. His musical talents have been featured in countless television and film projects, and he has a long history in the music business. He has recorded with such illustrious names as Don Ellis, Ringo Star, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Natalie Cole, Bill Holman and Lionel Hampton to name a few. Fred is also one of the pioneers in the use of the “Electronic Wind Instrument” (E.W.I.). He has received a Grammy Nomination, a Gold Record and the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences “Most Valuable Player Award” for three years running. He has also written numerous music education books and composed, arranged and performed on many albums.”

Back in the mid/late 1960’s I would visit him and his family in Studio City, CA. His dad was one of the biggest entertainment lawyers in Hollywood.

I had very little family. And my Aunt Gussie and Uncle Frank were terrific people. I really loved them.
I used to take a drive and visit my cousin. I loved hearing his music stories.

Fred had an older brother, Bobby. Bobby had a serious drinking problem.
Sometimes, I’d get there and Fred was doing a last-minute session.
So, I sat with Bobby and his neighbor, William Holden. Yeah, their family was that upscale.
Holden was a major movie star from the 1950’s-1980’s.
I remember him in Sam Peckinpah’s “The Wild Bunch.” Man, he looked old.

We would sit on the back porch and kibitz. Bobby had a liquor cart on wheels. He sat it next to the round glass table and I basically just listened.
Holden would get shit faced and start dishing dirt on Hollywood. I was entranced.

But you could see in Holden’s face that the mass consumption of alcohol was taking its toll…a lot of miles.

I must have visited a dozen times when Holden was there. Bobby and Holden must have had this drinking buddy thing going. I was only in my late teens and had nothing to offer to the conversation. Still, I was a big movie buff and I had lots of questions that Holden was glad to answer. I was especially interested in “Bridge on the River Kwai.”

Well, as expected in the human experience, things change. My life was moving forward and I just didn’t have the time to visit as much. Plus, I got tired of watching two men getting drunk out of their minds in the middle of the afternoon.

One time, Aunt Gussie came outside to the patio and began screaming at Holden. She felt he was a terrible influence on her son. She told him to get the hell out of there and don’t come back.

I do remember, several years later, hearing that Holden died a miserable lonely death. All because he was a lush.

This is from Wikipedia:
“According to the Los Angeles County Coroner’s autopsy report, Holden was alone and intoxicated in his apartment in Santa Monica, California, on November 12, 1981, when he slipped on a rug, severely lacerated his forehead on a teak bedside table, and bled to death. Evidence suggests he was conscious for at least half an hour after the fall. It is probable that he may not have realized the severity of the injury and did not summon aid, or was unable to call for help. His body was found four days later.”

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