- Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés
- Binder: Nicaraguan Ometepe
- Filler: Nicaraguan, Dominican
- Size: 6.5 x 54 Toro
- Strength: Medium/Full
- Price: $13.50-$15.00
Today we take a look at the ACE Prime M.X.S. Dominique Wilkins.
Factory: Tabacalera Pichardo
From ACE Prime Cigars:
“A prime example of Maximum Excellence and Success, this Dominique Wilkins Signature blend perfectly portrays 9-times All-Star, Hall of Fame Legend, and best Dunker in the history of the NBA, Mr. Dominique Wilkins!
“The Dominique Wilkins signature blend was created with the best San Andres wrapper and finest Nicaraguan and Dominican fillers. In short, it’s everything a great cigar should be—a perfect balance of strength, and consistency from start to finish.”
Not a heavy cigar based on its sheer size. A little stiff in the britches. The wrapper is semi-oily with hues of fresh asphalt, black birch tree bark, and hints of copper. Very toothy to the touch. I believe it is only a double cap, but it is constructed so smoothly, there may be a total of 3. Seams are tight. Lots of large artery sized veins permeate the entire cigar.
SMELL THE GLOVE:
Aromas are super faint. I detect bits of floral, dark chocolate, black licorice, cedar, a touch of cream, barnyard, black coffee, butterscotch, and raisins.
The cold draw presents flavors of black pepper, dark chocolate, raisins, cedar, barnyard, black coffee, but no sweetness apparent.
The resistance of the draw is spot on, so I put away my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool.
Nice flavors out of the gate: creamy, mild black pepper spiciness, dark cocoa, malt, cedar, and a bit of roasted nuts.
An immediate sense of the blend going complex early is impressive. A nice balance is getting into place. The finish is buttery and spicy on my teeth and lips.
I tend to stay away from sports figures’ cigar blends. First, they are always overpriced. And second, of the dozens I’ve reviewed that was actually a good cigar was the Big Papi by David Ortiz. I reviewed it 5 year ago and rated it a deserving 93.
I checked around and other reviewers, last year, liked this cigar. I’m confident I will too.
The original price point was $18 per stick. They are still available online. But now range from $13-$15 per stick. Way better than $18. I don’t remember much PR on this cigar, so demand was probably low; especially due its high falutin’ price. In the British Commonwealth, I’m sure it would go for £340 Quid.
With an inch burned, the blend is spreading out. Flavors become exuberant. They are accelerating at the same speed keeping the balance on point. The burn is behaving itself. Nice. But for $18, it should come with a first aid kit and chest compression bandage.
The cigar is moderately filled so the burn runs at a nice pace. It’s a big honker. Almost too big for my tastes. The only time I enjoy a big cigar is if I’m at a BBQ and there is time to spare. Otherwise, the Corona Gorda is my fave.
Charlotte and I had sex last night. She only sprained herself, but I believe I broke my coccyx…and not in a good way.
Kenny Wayne Shepherd is playing “Somehow Somewhere Someway.” I’m grooving now. Back in the 60’s, it was cool to say “Groovy.” I thought that sounded stupid and never used the word. I did overuse the word, bitch’n…hey, it was SoCal.
I’m getting black cherries. Haven’t tasted that flavor in a cigar for a while. It is a most overused adjective, but it certainly applies here. A nice sweet and tangy concoction. Along side are elements of maltiness, dried apple, espresso, black pepper, oozing creaminess, and a pleasant charred meaty component.
Strength is a solid medium.
First sip of water and good things happen. It smooths out the entire character of the blend. I’m amazed at how all the flavors I’ve described are on the same playing field level. Nothing exerts itself. Very smooth with little nuances and subtleties working the room.
This is a very nice blend. Thankfully, the gentle complexity makes it perfect for anyone who complains about reviewers that find a creamed corn marshmallow fried liver flavor point. If you’re breathing, you will enjoy this. Mind you, I’m around 4 feet from finishing this little behemoth.
The ash is hanging on tight so I hope I can get a money shot for the second third. But 2” is a hard thing to maintain. Boy, does that sound familiar.
There are no leaps forward, but the cigar is smoking slower than I thought it would. Only half an inch from the second third. It will need to step up in the second half.
I got the ash to hang ten for the photo. Nice construction.
The cigar is advertised as medium/full. It must come much later in the cigar. It still sits on medium at this point. Although, the black pepper spiciness is engorged. I would like it to calm the fuck down a bit as the flavor profile is subtle…and the spiciness over amps.
And then it does as I commanded. The spiciness relents and we are back to nice and smooth with lots of balance to play with and nuances galore (Pussy’s sister).
Gov’t Mule is playing. I really dig that band. Very often, they seem like a continuation of the Allman Bros. style. The song writing is similar.
I’ve gotten some emails lately asking me specifics about certain cigars. Since I write in real time and then hit the publish button, I never go back and read a review I’ve written. So, when readers quote things back to me I said, I sit there all stupid and shit and have to look it up. After a few thousand reviews, and me being 89 years old, my memory is a bit stilted. I write everything in the moment. I have an inner dialog with myself as I write. Funny thing is that I never have anyone in particular I feel I’m writing to about a cigar. I suppose a heavy dose of anti-depressants and hallucinogenic medications could change this.
I could never do a video review. You think I have no filter when I write? Oh lord…there is no where I could place the reviews other than my web site. I’d be thrown off YouTube after the first review. I’m just a potty mouthed musician/engineer. What are ya gonna’ do? I tried injections but they didn’t take.
I was finally notified by the Wisconsin Dept. of Health and I’m scheduled to get my Covid vaccine Feb. 5, 2024. All right!
The M.X.S. Dominique Wilkins is becoming a very sophisticated blend. The complexity rises like the sun. Balance never wavers. No new flavors…but a nice creaminess coats them all and hugs them to its breast.
I like that the strength did not start out at full Indian. It grows by very small increments so as not to distract. No swooning from nicotine yet.
This is going to be an over 2-hour smoke. It is leisurely in its approach. It takes its time. It knows it will impress and all I need to do is be patient. And I shall be rewarded. Bitcoin would be nice.
“Get Together” by The Youngbloods. 1967. Man, you think classic rock radio plays the shit out of Fleetwood Mac…this tune was on a loop for years. Nice song though. Makes me want to wear paisley. It was a time when I liked people. What did I know?
The cigar is just cruising along. It keeps my interest without interference from unwanted criticism.
A chocolate covered malted milk ball thing is taking the lead…pushing the creaminess to the side a bit. Sweetness is also supplied by raisins, cinnamon toast, honey roasted almonds, and the candy-coated Boston Baked Beans.
Strength makes its move. Solidly planted in medium/full now. A gradual uptick and feels totally organic.
The stick gets better and better. Some very nice blending caused this. That, and I feel a fentanyl rush. I gotta find a better place than my optic nerve to inject that shit. I blink a lot now.
I’m on hour 10. Time has no meaning. My credit score has no meaning. Testicles wrapped around my thigh have no meaning. And my desire to be young again has no meaning.
You will dig this blend. Strength isn’t overwhelming. The spiciness is always there but rarely stepping over the line. Complexity, balance, transitions, and finish complement each other like Abbot & Costello complemented The Mummy. Or The Three Stooges in Orbit.
I think the original $18 price tag was excessive. But if you can snag some for around $13-$14, the cigar is worth it. Mind you, my cigar has gotten nearly a year of humi time.
Drat. I got this close to a second money shot. The moment I place the cigar in my katman ashtray, the ash disengaged. And that’s about the worst I can say about this nice cigar.
The last third brings out the flavors in step. They nearly burst compared to the subtle approach the blend has taken prior to this point. Bold elements of what I’ve described change the cigar’s profile in the positive. A very nice journey.
The Mamas & The Papas are playing “California Dreamin’. I remember drummer Hal Blaine telling me stories about his days recording with the band. The leader, John Phillips, came to the studio every day with a big leather doctor’s bag. Inside was every drug known to man. Now, that’s how you record a hit album.
The blend is certainly potent in the attack of its strength but I’m not even close to being nauseous yet. Good times.
I like all types of cigar blends. I definitely enjoy slow roll blends. They tend to be more relaxing than eye popping, veins sticking out on your forehead blends.
I need to try more of ACE Prime’s blends.
If you like complete balance, nuance, and complexity in your cigars, this is a good choice.
And now for something completely different:
Have you ever been in a real house fire?
God knows why I can remember this when it is so long ago. But I do.
The first time was in 1975. April and I lived in a very nice flat outside of London in Edgeware. Mostly Jewish community and about 30 minutes from downtown.
One day, I was taking a bath. (Back then, trying to find a bathroom with a shower was about 100 to 1.) April came in, sat on the toilet seat and we began to kibitz.
She was making dinner.
She had put some cooking oil in a big pot to make some chips (French fries to you Yanks). Well, as I sat in the tub, all of a sudden, I saw black smoke traveling along the ceiling at the speed of sound.
I jumped out of the tub and ran into the kitchen. The entire ceiling was on fire.
There was a column of fire about 12” in diameter coming from the pot and going straight to the ceiling. The entire flat was engulfed in fire and smoke.
Now, I was still naked. I shooed April and her little girl out of the flat. I went back in to call the fire department.
They didn’t have a 911 (999 in England) service in those days. I called the local operator and reported the fire; the whole time choking from the smoke.
Now this dumb ass old woman kept saying, “Oh my dear, oh my dear.” I started yelling, “Call the fucking fire department.”
“Oh my dear, oh my dear.” I hung up and crossed my fingers.
I managed to put my boxer shorts on, grabbed my basses, and out I went.
The fire department showed up with the lamest siren I had ever heard: “Ding ding. Ding ding. Ding ding.” WTF?
The fire fighters had these enormous helmets that made them look like Darth Vader.
I stood outside choking and I remember a fire fighter asking, “You all right, mate?” I said no…you idiot..I can’t breathe. And he said, “OK. You are doing well”
Where was the oxygen? It was like a Monty Python sketch.
BTW- The most important part was that I put out the fire. Just before I bolted, I grabbed the lid to the pot and managed to cover it stopping the column of fire immediately. But it didn’t stop the rest of the flat from burning.
The landlord was furious with us. Clearly, it was April’s fault. She was a real dumb bunny. But she was sweet. I’m glad that after 8 years together, she cheated on me and left me. It led to a wild 6 years of bachelorhood, and eventually making Charlotte’s dream come true by finding me.
The second time was with April again only this time it wasn’t her fault. It was 1978. We were living at the top of a hill in San Pedro. We had a gorgeous view of the L.A. Harbor in San Pedro. This time it was a house. A big, beautiful house.
On the very first day we moved in, the house owner decided to move the water heater from inside the house to outside…in the back of the house. While we were moving boxes and furniture into the house, the plumber was doing some brazing or welding. Can’t remember which.
What he didn’t know, by the time he left, was that he had started a fire between the outside of the house and the inside framing.
We were in the house maybe an hour when someone, in a car, honked until I came out to see what was going on. He screamed, as he pointed, “Your roof is on fire!!”
I ran out front and sure as shit, the entire roof was engulfed in flames.
Once again, I shuffled April and the kid outside and I went back and got my basses.
The fire department was there in less than 2 minutes. Lots of fire trucks.
April and I stood there as black smoke completely covered a 5-house perimeter. All the looky loos were choking from smoke.
This was a bad fire and yet the fire fighters were scrambling to get into the house and on top of the house. I had a horrifying respect for them. One even went through the roof and disappeared. Fortunately, he was saved by his comrades.
When it was all over, the fire chief came over to me; put his arm around my shoulders and walked me slowly towards the house. The whole time telling me it looks worse than it is.
I walked in and gasped. Nearly all of our belongings were destroyed. The entire roof was gone. Water flooded the floors. We had just moved in and hadn’t even spent one night in the house.
We spent time in cheap motels until they rebuilt the house. Only took a month.
I sued the plumber. I wanted to get my money back for everything.
I went before Judge Bean, the hanging judge of San Pedro, and he took one look at my giant afro and denied my case. And the defendant? The plumber? “Not Guilty!!”
I had fire reports saying it was the plumber’s fault. Arson. The judge wouldn’t even look at them. All he saw was a Hippie.
Both experiences were terrible. My only advice if it ever happens to you….get out fast. Fire moves much quicker than you realize. A few seconds can make a difference.
And on that happy note….Have a great day!
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
Thank you, Phil.