Wrapper: Nicaraguan Habano
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6 x 54 Toro
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $15.00 (Can be had for $13.00 online)

Many thanks to Bob M. for providing a gift card so I could purchase these cigars.

BACKGROUND:
From Cigar Aficionado:
“It seems every year in the cigar industry is a celebration of sorts, and 2020 is no different, as it marks 145 years of the Romeo y Julieta brand. Altadis U.S.A. is honoring the anniversary with a limited-edition, Nicaraguan Romeo called Romeo y Julieta Eternal. However, due to the star-crossed complications of this tumultuous year, it won’t be heading to stores until the 25th of January.

“Romeo y Julieta Eternal is a collaboration between the Plasencias and Rafael Nodal, head of product capability at Tabacalera USA. The cigars are a blend of Nicaraguan tobaccos grown by the Plasencia family on their farms in all the major growing regions of Nicaragua: Jalapa, Condega, Estelí and Ometepe. According to Nodal, the wrapper underwent twice the normal fermentation time and was aged for 26 months.

“Romeo y Julieta Eternal will be available in one size, a 6 inch by 54 ring gauge toro that has a suggested retail price of $15.
“In a romantic nod to the popular Shakespeare play the brand is named after, one cigar in each 11-count box—the 11th—will come with a golden band.

“Eternal’s golden ring symbolizes the strong bond between aficionados and Romeo y Julieta and the everlasting love of the iconic star-crossed lovers,” said Nodal. “It is a love that has proven to be eternal.”
“Made in Nicaragua at the Plasencia Cigars factory, Romeo y Julieta Eternal is not the first time that the Plasencias have made a Romeo for Altadis.”

APPEARANCE:
Nice looking cigar. It feels good in the hand. Firmly packed without hard or soft spots. I smoked two prior to this review and both burned perfectly…and due to an abundance of tobacco distribution, it was a long smoke. Cool with me my Daddy-O’s.

Seams are visible but tight. Veinage permeates the stick but nothing off putting. A slight toothiness coats the cigar. The triple cap is a bit lopsided, but it takes staring at it with my third eye before I notice it. Chocolate brown hue in room light, using movie premiere kliegs…slighter brown and tad bit of tangerine on the wrapper.
The band is very attractive…nice metallic colors; the cherry added with a red ribbon footer band.

SMELL THE GLOVE:
Aromas attack like a jealous girlfriend…notes of floral, dark chocolate, malt, dried fruit, butterscotch, cedar, creamy vanilla ice cream, barnyard, and a touch of black pepper with a chaser of cinnamon.

The cold draw presents flavors of black pepper, red hot cinnamon, black licorice, dried fruit, cedar, rich earthiness, vanilla, creaminess, and assorted nut meats.

FIRST THIRD:
I punch the cap…and it tries to punch me back…but I’m not too old to duck. The draw is exactly how I like it. No need for my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool.

A generic sweetness hits my palate like a truck. Honeysuckle. Had these plants in front of our house growing up and we used to grab the stem, pull it out, and suck on a tiny bit of nectar that was sweet and addictive.

There is some tartness, which for the moment, tastes like bitter orange rind. The spiciness is doing well as long as it doesn’t grow in intensity…still a combo of black pepper and red-hot cinnamon.

Pecans. Pecan pie. I haven’t eaten any in 40 years, but this is what it tastes like in my imagination…shriveled as it might be. Alongside the pecan pie is a commemorative honey flavor…honeysuckle and bee fruit.

Actually, the blend seems to be full of fast-moving elements. I’m half an inch in and the cigar follows the blinding white light and gives me the nod that complexity is at hand.

Strength is medium. But it will release itself from bondage by the second half and bring Maxwell’s Silver Hammer down on my head.

Beautiful balance. The finish is spicy, but not overwhelming or efforting to interfere with the more subtle nuances.
A cigar to savor. It would be perfect with some good bourbon. But I don’t start drinking heavily til at least 9am.

Very slow roll. The cigar is built like a brick shit house.

Sips of water emphasize licorice, spiciness, honey, and jerked meat. I’m not sure what my comment should be from that last flavor point. My head is spinning.

I just remembered that this is a $15 stick. It should damn well taste this good. Still, I found it online for $13. If the damn online stores would even consider advertising with me, I’d tell you where to find them…but the only way these guys will be seen with me is in a dark alley and a sap in their right hand. Maybe one day, I will find religion and my writing style will be lily white. The advertisers will surge, and I will drop dead at 73.

SECOND THIRD:
The first third took 35 minutes.

I am reviewing this cigar with only 1-1/2 months of naked humi time. I have a couple more that I will allow to sleep a few months before I chow down again.

Saw my second pain guy yesterday. What a friggin waste of my time. And his, apparently…as I waited an hour in the exam room only for him to bless me with 10 minutes of his time…on my first visit. I have no idea what happened. The summary did not match what we discussed. I had an Ah Ha moment and called Loyola University in Chicago yesterday afternoon. They have a prestigious pain management department…very progressive. I’m waiting to hear what year they can get me in. Chicago is only a two-hour drive from Milwaukee. Funny thing…I’ve met tons of Wisconsin inhabitants that have lived their entire lives and never visited that toddling town. We lived there 2005-2008. Wonderful city with a vibrant music scene. Milwaukee is where music comes to die. It’s either country or metal. That’s it.

I stopped smoking flower two months ago fearing the piss test from the pain doc. The thc really helps at night for pain. The new doc tells me he does not prescribe opioids so no piss test. Last night, I sang all the tunes from the first Jefferson Airplane album.

The Romeo y Julieta Eternal is super smooth and relaxing. Strength is upped to medium/full but uses a very kind and gentle approach.

Sweet v. savory is balanced. The tobacco must be nicely aged but there is no info about this in the press release.

The complexity is re-issued with every puff. Transitions are flowing by like the animatronic figures on the Disneyland “It’s a Small World” ride. Never go on that ride unless you have small children. Never go on that ride stoned. That damn song won’t leave your brain for months.

Back in the early 70’s, a buddy and I went to Disneyland for a lack of anything else to do. Of course, back then, it was affordable, and a convenience store need not be robbed to afford its prices today.

So…we both did some blotter. Wrong thing to do. Long lines while you’re frying. Torture. A lot of giggling with a big helping of paranoia. We took the sky ride over the park and that’s where Hippies would smoke joints.

But Disneyland had lots of security personnel with binoculars looking for this. They busted stoned kids all the time. And yes, there is a Disneyland jail. But my buddy and I would duck our heads so they couldn’t be seen when we took a puff from a J. They couldn’t touch us. I can’t imagine being a prisoner in their jail while frying.

Where was I?
The cigar makes a big leap. A light switch has been flipped and the complexity and its ancillary personnel, just reaches out and grabs me by the nose and pulls me around like one of the Stooges. Nyuck.

This is an excellent cigar. I’m recommending it already.

“In The Summertime” by Mungo Jerry. Oh lord…that brings back flashbacks of the early 70’s. You cannot tell that my typing tempo is groovin’, but I am doing the bop with my head in 4/4 time.

“Lean on Me” by Bill Withers. Love everything that guy did.

I reach the halfway point. Strength remains at medium/full.

Such a relaxing smoke that time no longer has meaning. Unless you’re the March Hare.

Construction has been flawless. The char line is razor sharp. It’s nice to see that a semi-expensive cigar brings its stuff to the table…and not be a douche bag P.R. disaster.

The Romeo y Julieta Eternal becomes a bona fide flavor bomb. Up til now, it was holding fast as the whole exceeding the sum of its parts. Now it’s going for gold.

The spiciness is exactly how I like it. It has some nice kick but never overpowering or interferes with the over all character of the blend. This is going to be a dynamite cigar with a few more months of humidor time.

The smoke time has been well over an hour so far. Instead of staring at the clock with a dog turd, I take no notice of time passing. Blissful and eventful. Good combo.

Remember my review of the Cigar Federation Southern Draw Parallel Universe I did last week? The supply of 1650 cigars sat there for months. Hours after my review, they had sold out. But the cigar industry never shows appreciation to my readers. A shame.

Flavors cascading: Assorted nuts, cinnamon, creaminess, malt, licorice, rich espresso, bittersweet chocolate, citrus, butterscotch, cedar, rich tobacco depth, and a light touch of black pepper. Sehr gut.

The last time I’ve had this much fun was when Charlotte used my face as a washcloth.

Still medium/full…but the last third is going nuclear.

LAST THIRD:
Just a great blend. If you aren’t a fan of Romeo y Julieta cigars, this baby will impress you.
Like anything else, if you get what you pay for, I’m all in.

And now we’ve gone full Chernobyl in strength. Nicotine arrives in a pumpkin coach.

“Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone. A guilty pleasure.

Holy Bonzo. I can barely see my laptop screen. No kidding. This last third is a test of my manhood…which is always in question. Strong mother fucker.
I take 5 minutes to walk it off…I’m going to finish the Romeo y Julieta Eternal no matter what.

Still a flavor bomb. If I was conscious, I’d give a better description.

Sammy uses a defibrillator on me and I’m back. Even without opposable thumbs, he does a fine job.

You will need a big pair to get through this baby…mine are staring up at me while they rest on the floor…big smile.

I just realize I was paralyzed for a couple minutes.

I slap on a horse’s feed bag so when the projectile vomiting begins, I’m ready.

The Romeo y Julieta Eternal is a genuine work of art. A lot of passion went into blending this cigar.

With an inch to go, I throw in the towel.

Flavors and character are outstanding…it is merely a question if you are man enough to smoke the entire cigar.
Still, I highly recommend the Romeo y Julieta Eternal.

RATING: 95

And now for something completely different:
1976
Another old chestnut…

I was back home in Long Beach. Drawn and quartered from the traumatic experience of being shit canned from Curved Air over political reasons.

The last straw, from the band’s leaders’ point of view, was that Stewart Copeland and I were being requested for all the radio interviews in each city we played. Darryl was the founding member and had a massive, impenetrable ego. And not a lick of a sense of humor.

Stew and I were like Groucho and Chico. The radio DJs loved us. They even ignored our star of the show: Sonja.

Now Stew had no worries about being fired. He was having a hot and heavy affair with Sonja. They lived together and eventually got married. So, his position was safe. Not to mention that his last name was Copeland. Miles Copeland was our manager. And Ian Copeland owned the booking agency. Both older brothers to Stew. They were a tight knit group.

Anyway, this infuriated Darryl as the request for Stew and I to do all the interviews was canonized by Miles Copeland. To make things really worse, print media spoke mostly to Stew and I because we were better copy. We were funny. And the media ate it up. The other members had no idea how to make people laugh. All we were doing was channeling the Marx Brothers.

Plain and simple, Stew and I were smart assess. Sometimes, we got a real humorless interviewer and boy was that a bitch. These guys usually got mad when we didn’t give straight answers. I mean, really mad. We didn’t care.

Doing interviews was an unpleasant pain in the ass. We didn’t get paid, but it was supposed to have the effect of putting more asses into the seats of our concert that night.

We had no idea that Stew and I would be an item. We would have been happy if they just interviewed Darryl and Sonja while we sat on the hotel steps and smoked hash.

So, I was viewed as being too big for my britches. And I was gone with the help of a lousy album production for RCA. That’s right. I didn’t write the songs. I didn’t arrange them. But it was my fault that the album stunk, and someone had to be sacrificed. Perfect set up to get rid of the funny bassist that stole Darryl’s thunder.

Back home, I got a letter from a friend, Butch Hatcher. An American singer that was in the southern rock band, Flatrock. And he was our singer for a short while before Curved Air did a reunion tour; and after seeing the massive, positive result, Darryl got rid of Butch and made Darryl’s new band the new Curved Air. We were then called “Stark Naked and the Car Thieves.”

Stark Naked and the Car Thieves at our first gig in Nottingham, England:

Same place in Nottingham England for the first gig of Stark Naked. (I attempted to do my best Harpo Marx impersonation. Funny. I don’t remember asking Mick Jacques to put his hand on my knee….guitarists, man…)

Butch asked that I deliver a note to Supertramp’s manager who he had an affair with in England. So, I called and got an audience.

I was given directions where to go. And it happened to be where Supertramp was renting a house for rehearsal purposes.

The band was holed up in a mansion in Beverly Hills getting ready to record their next album. The living room had been turned into a mini recording studio for their demos.

I arrived and was ushered out to the pool area where the band and the manager were soaking up Southern California rays.

When I was introduced as Curved Air’s bassist, Supertramp members went nuts. Remember, this was 1976. They fawned over me. Took me a week to wash it off. I know it is hard for Americans to fathom the brouhaha over Curved Air. But they were HUGE in Europe. And South America. And Japan. Literally legends in the music business that couldn’t break in this country. I guess we sounded too much like a mix of Jefferson Airplane/It’s a Beautiful Day (“White Bird”).

I spent a glorious afternoon with these wonderful people.
We then spent some time jamming in the living room.

When it was time to go, I stood up, took the Fender P bass off and because of the unusually low ceiling, smashed the head of the bass into the ceiling causing a big crack in the neck.

It was a 1958 P bass. Worth a fortune. I couldn’t believe what I had done. They tried to make me feel like it was nothing and that they had a good luthier who could fix it, but I was so embarrassed. I had never broken an instrument in my life.

I left them with my head hung low.

Before I broke the bass, I had been invited to the recording studio to lay some tracks down. For some reason, the call never came.
I was a real putz.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS