Wrapper: Honduran Corojo
Filler: Honduran, Nicaraguan
Size: 6 x 44 Corona Gorda
Price: $8.90 MSRP (Around $2.50 on Cigar Bid)
Today we take a look at the Rocky Patel Number 6.
Regular production since summer of 2019.
I do not know why I do this to myself…oh wait…I know…I didn’t have as many decent review cigars as I expected. The ones I have aren’t ready yet. And plus, our move forced us to save every dime we had and my cigar budget was bupkis. Poor me. (Shut up you schmuck. Always whining).
I haven’t smoked one yet. I got a couple sticks from the owner of Prime Cigar a couple months ago and he had it since a Patel rep gave them to him before that and the owner decided he didn’t want them…so, why not give them to Mikey? He’ll smoke anything.
I could not find a single review, written or video, on the entire interwebs. Check that…I found two. One by JR and one by Famous. Both one-minute videos that are nothing more than high falutin’ bullshit PR campaigns. So, they don’t count.
Who Cares? Do you care? I don’t.
“It has a lot of sweetness,” says Nish Patel, of Rocky Patel Premium Cigars. “It’s totally different than anything we’ve ever put out.”
SIZES AND PRICING:
5 sizes ranging from $9.00-$12.00.
The cigar feels good. A nice level of resistance up and down the shaft. The triple cap is kind of sloppy. Seams are tight and a minimal amount of low key veinage.
The hue is an oily orange tinted wrapper that is baby tushy smooth…that’s in the sunlight. In room light, it is plain paper bag brown.
The most attractive thing about the cigar is the cigar band and the footer band.
SMELL THE GLOVE:
Aromas are so faint that I have to screw my nose up into a wrinkly mess. I can barely smell milk chocolate, licorice, cedar, black pepper, and mint.
The cold draw presents flavors of milk chocolate, creaminess, cedar, black pepper, licorice, mint, and malt.
The cigar is a little too airy for my tastes. Obviously, I won’t need my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool.
I will try my darndest not to be as rude or obnoxious as yesterday’s Gotham House Blend Connecticut.
I light up and get a big blast of black pepper that causes my eyes to water.
Did I mention that the Corona Gorda is my favorite size?
Strength starts at medium.
The stick has gotten a lot of humi time. It ain’t bad. But then again, its early. There is always a reason that none of the big-time reviewers don’t review it…piss off Rocky? Fuck no!
I love this story…the cigar got its name because of the samples thrown in front of Patel, he liked this one the best and, yes…you guessed it…It was the 6th cigar. Wow. Now that is a whole lotta imagination. And clearly, this story tells you how the great Patel organization blends their releases…especially ones in the $10 range…hard work, planning, and deep research…OR…someone throws cigars at you like Pick Up Sticks and you choose one that you plan on foisting on your unsuspecting customer base who think it’s cool. He might as well have just pointed and shot.
Well, it is certainly heads above yesterday’s cigar. This one tastes like a real cigar, not a chimp’s tampon.
I betcha’ a dollar, this baby has almost a year of humi time. Maybe that’s why other reviewers chose to ignore it. It tasted like shit for the first 10 months.
There is a touch of complexity…just a hint. The finish is developing with a nice oily schmear on my lips and teeth.
The burn is solid. Still, it could have used a little more sausage in the stick. The lack of it makes the burn a little hot.
Here’s the thing…the cigar is way too expensive for what it presents to the world.
In this early stage, it might be a solid $6.50 stick. I checked Cbid and they have some Toro fivers up for auction and the price is still around $2 with 10 hours til end of auction.
I’m guessing this cigar did not go over well with smokers nor Patel’s fan base.
I did some checking and no one seems to be sure of the length of the cigar. It isn’t 6” long, it is 5-1/2” long. No big deal but copywriters were asleep at the wheel. Pure laziness.
Some flavors move to the forefront: The spiciness calms down a bit but is still the main ingredient, a nice mellow creaminess, some roasted nuts (Sammy, where are you?), very malty, there is that black licorice again, cedar, a little bit of unknown origin sweetness. That is the big thing Patel is pushing about this cigar: It’s natural sweetness. I think it may have disappeared into the ether with extended humi time.
I was wrong. No complexity. No transitions. The finish is as limp as my dick was in the 1980’s doing cocaine.
Maybe the second half will see some life. $9.00? Ha! That’s funnier than me getting a coffee enema from Charlotte while the cat sits there with a coffee cup; waiting.
Jimi’s “Killing Floor” from Monterey and released in 1985 is jolting my music setup.
The cigar is getting close to having no redeeming qualities. Flavors show up and then disappear. It should get an act in Vegas.
Dylan is playing “Subterrranean Homesick Blues.” 1965.
Flavors are playing tag, you’re it. It gives me false hope.
Patel is a greedy guy. But then he started his career as a Hollywood entertainment attorney. I came across a shit load of those low lifes when I was in the biz. All snakes.
This cigar is a one trick pony. It isn’t getting better…it lies there like a flounder on a sunny day.
I feel bad for the guys at JR and Famous that do a video review of a truly crappy $10 cigar and try to sell it to their customers. Jesus…no business ethics at all. But then business is like that. One reason I got out of the music biz was I was forced to become ruthless and I didn’t like it. I saw the writing on the wall and had to ask myself if this is who I wanted to become? I said no. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t still in love with music or playing it live with friends at clubs. The two words music business shouldn’t be put together.
I’m still waiting for that wonderful innate tobacco sweetness to kick in. Right now, I’d just like to kick this cigar in its arse.
Instead of a review, I should have just said “Linear.” And be done with it. And not waste your or my time.
I gotta get some cigars.
I bought the Isabela Cigar Co. C-19 Survival Kit and there are a couple older blends I haven’t reviewed yet. I will do so toot suite.
And the cigar goes out. Sammy offers a light but he is clumsy.
The cigar is no better than Patel’s cheap bundle cigars going for $1.75 each. What the fuck was he thinking foisting this on the public? It is a camel turd, wrapped in a Vienna sausage, wrapped in a dead baby sparrow.
I enjoy my first cigar of the day. Now, I’m pissed off. So here goes…
The only flavors left are super spicy black pepper and cedar. There ain’t a sign of sweetness to be tasted.
I got a package from General Cigar with the new Cohiba Royale in it. $27 per stick. The PR says all the leaves got 5-6 years of aging. Isabela ages their tobacco 3-4 years on average. And you can whip it out of the cello and get down and dirty with a great blend. The Cohiba got smoked last night and it needs months of humi time. Something ain’t right about that.
I’m not halfway through yet and time has slowed to a crawl.
Did I mention what it’s like to get prostatitis?
The flavor profile comes out of hiding and finds a nice balance. It won’t last.
Think of all the great blends you can purchase for $9-$12. Take this one off your list.
On my 25th birthday (1975), I was in London playing with Curved Air. Stew Copeland gave blotter to everyone at my party at the Marquee Club. Later that evening, I got a stomachache and I realized I needed to take a dump. Never had to do that on acid before.
It was a West End flat in the basement of a very old building…no heat. And it was February…cold and snowy as shit.
I sat down on the toilet and could see my breath from the cold. Then it happened…all my focus became my asshole. I was the asshole. It was horrible. It’s dark and smelly. And a major buzz kill.
I finished up and felt better immediately. I got back to the matter at hand and sat down in the living room watching the chaos of 25 people all blazing away while I saw the music posters melt on the wall. Good way to go out and decided it was the last time I would take acid. Warning…never become your asshole.
The cigar…where was I? Oh yeah, it’s a peanut infested turd on a stick.
I guarantee this regular production cigar won’t last much longer. You will start to see them at your local shop thrown in free with a $2 cutter.
I get flashes of maltiness and coffee. Not a lick of sweetness. A bit of creaminess remains. Like cleaning up a pearl necklace.
Speaking of which, back in the 90’s, I was friends with an owner of a structural erection company. Charlotte and I socialized with them quite a bit. Then one day, we are sitting at their dining room table and the wife says something about a pearl necklace. I had no idea what that was. She described it and then said I turned beet red.
Get this…they were swingers. So, in a crazy moment of bizarre weirdness, they disrobed and my buddy got on top of his wife while she gave him head…right in front of us. And then we got the money shot. What happened next, even I can’t describe. Let your mind wander. We didn’t hang out with them that much after that. Although Charlotte would get on top of me in bed and I’d suck her dick and she gave me a pearl necklace. There are definite perks being married to a Trans. Funny thing…since she’s gotten older, her schmekel has shrunk…join the crowd.
Stop the presses! I am getting a nice balance of minimal flavors. Nothing new to add but they seem cohesive for the moment.
We’ve now integrated from a $1.75 stick to a $3 stick.
There is the slightest bit of complexity now. No transitions and the finish is all pepper.
Where is the bridge? Where is the advertised sweetness?
When I was 17, I dated this girl named Cherie. The first date was at the Los Altos Drive In movie theater. Hadn’t sat there for 15 minutes when she opens my fly and starts jerking me off. You coulda’ knocked me over with a pearl necklace. Every time we went out, she did the same thing…but it never progressed further than that. I wonder how she is doing?
I’m killing time. Have you noticed?
The stick reverts to its linear disposition. This is a cruel joke. Can you imagine the poor schmucks that paid full price for this piece of shit? My heart goes out to them.
Thank God. It’s almost over.
I grab one of my N-95 masks and poke a hole in it so I can smoke the cigar in a safer manner.
Rocky is the master scam-meister. Yeah, he’s got more money than God but that doesn’t make me respect him. His only goal in life is to flood the market with drek.
And the cigar goes out again.
When I posted my review of the Gotham House Blend on FB and Linkedin, I titled it the worst cigar I’ve smoked. Ladies and germs, may I introduce you to #2.
Did you ever find yourself masturbating when you were 13 and your mother walks in?
When I do it now, Charlotte has caught me. She merely shakes her head and takes photos. She posts them on her Tinder account. She’s gotten a lot of dick pics since then.
The Patel Number 6 or Medieval torture? Hmmm…let me think.
Now here is a cruel joke…in the 90’s we took a long weekend to visit Sedona. That night, we got stoned, put on some porn, and had a good time. There were some chicks on chicks. I thought Charlotte would object. Instead, she told me that maybe she will find a chick to have sex with us on my 40th birthday. She forgot all about that the next day.
This is a horrible cigar.
If you dare buy one, I will find out…call my friends in the Crips and have you disappeared.
I’ve got some nice cigars in my humidor but I’ve reviewed them all. That’s the problem when you have been reviewing for over 10 years. And not having the dough to buy new cigar blends. (Oh God, he is begging again. What a mooch).
Nothing left to be said about this used rubber. And I’ve filled the review with sufficient sex stories.
You’re on your own with this one.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS