Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf
Filler: Dominican, Nicaraguan
Size: 7 x 64
I reviewed the 2019 Triqui Traca in the Robusto 5 x 52. Loved it.
I was gifted this cigar by Steve Saka.
The cigar is a powerhouse. The size is that of a lost world fallen log.
I barely made it through the Robusto review due to its mighty strength.
If anything tests my faltering manhood, this is the cigar to do it.
I apologize upfront for any whining, pissing, or moaning on my part.
If I cannot survive the duration, I will instead transcribe the entire Old Testament to fill out the review.
Released September 2020
From Halfwheel.com (10-22-2019):
“While the Triqui Traca’s roots trace back to the original Mi Querida, it more specifically traces its history back to the Mi Querida Firecracker, a 3 1/2 x 50 parejo with a long pigtail that was released in 2018 as part of Two Guys Smoke Shop’s Firecracker Series. The blend is slightly stronger than the original Mi Querida, with a No. 1 dark corona Connecticut broadleaf wrapper covering a Nicaraguan binder and Nicaraguan and Dominican ligero fillers. Of note in the filler is what Steve Saka described as “a unique, high octane ligero grown in the Dominican Republic.”
“Saka has described the line as not being a pepper bomb, rather that the strength comes across in a “denser, heavier, chewier way,” adding that it conveys a unique body and weight to the person smoking it.”
Big cigar. Don’t let the 64-ring gauge fool you. The difference between this and a 70-ring gauge is 3/32” or roughly 1/16”. Nothing. Same thing as the 70 except for a little less tobacco.
I weighed it…it came in at 6.5lbs. I will never complain about a light cigar again. This monster feels like I’m holding a Louisville Slugger. My lungs are using a variety of curse words that I can barely make out because they don’t have the wind to yell loudly.
I will, for a time, leave the planet…because this cigar ain’t fooling around. This is my punishment for fooling around all the time. It’s Mano a Mano. And only one of us is a man. I will not divulge who that is.
The cigar is kind of hard. I can’t depress the stick anywhere for fear of breaking the wrapper. It has a lovely oily Broadleaf wrapper that shows me a map of the Mars surface with its veins. Seams are invisible. On the backside of my photo above the lines I count that make up the cap seem endless. I’m guessing maybe 14 caps?
SMELL THE GLOVE:
Aromas seem to be hidden from the human nose. I bring in the cat and he smells: floral, caramel, chocolate, fruit, malt, black pepper, cedar, barnyard, blackberries, and marshmallow.
The cold draw presents flavors of black pepper, espresso, fruit, creaminess, cedar, malt, and dark chocolate.
I used my prototype of Dr. Rod’s new PerfecPunch that the Chinese are holding for ransom until the Biden administration stops blaming them for Covid. Still, the prototype is very cool. And surprisingly I won’t need my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool as this Redwood tree has a free and clear path of air from stem to stern. That really amazes me. The rollers did a magnificent job. I was 99% sure that this telephone pole would have a plug in it somewhere…it doesn’t.
I’m going to be here all day reviewing this black hole of a cigar. You can go in, but you never return. I will try to minimize my ranting and stupidity. But no promises.
First off is that I cannot hold the cigar in my mouth while I type. I have a small mouth which made me popular in Quentin. But also, the weight of this thing is a great way to keep your jaw muscles in shape. You never know when you want to bite someone. (I could have gone the other way, but I didn’t.)
So, I’m wood shedding…free falling…chomping the choda…biting the bodeen… (Light the friggin cigar up already).
It takes a good 5 minutes to light this thing and boy are my arms tired.
Now that I really look at it, it looks like my schlong…except it ain’t 7” …or an inch in diameter…never mind.
I can barely get my mouth around the 64 gauge. Makes me think about Isabela’s Mammoths and one is a 7 x 70 and the other, 8 x 80. I would need block and tackle to manage either of those.
Speaking of which, have you ever measured the circumference of your schmekel? Usually, it is the chick’s idea. But still, a real tape measure is out of the question as I don’t want to explain to an ER doc what happened. A cloth sewing tape is better. Go measure while I wait here…
“Layla” Eric Clapton…acoustic version. All right, mama.
The cigar explodes with complexity and a myriad of flavors with 1/128” smoked. It took 5 minutes.
Steve sent me a few cigars to review, and I just know that this came out of his own stash because this baby is so refined and aged beautifully that the flavors drip with extensive aging.
None of the other reviews hung on to their Triqui Traca this long. I have been given a chance to admire the blender’s intent sitting right in front of me. Gloriosky!
6-15/16” to go.
Beautiful laid back sweet notes: caramel, raisins, chocolate pudding, prune Danish, vanilla ice cream, and a twist of lemon.
The savory notes are the fiercely aged tobacco rather than a laundry list of flavors. The balance is spot on.
This is going to take forever as I need to put the cigar down when I type. This is unnatural.
Deep complexity starts the blend which means by the time I hit the second half, if I’m still conscious, is going to rip my nipple tassels right off.
I find this is a good time to clean my mini man cave. I grab a duster and work my way around the 4’ x 3’ room. No, I’m not cramped. Although, my claustrophobia sometimes acts up.
I’d never last a day in prison. Except if I was put in the Jewish section. I mean we are talking Vienna Sausages. Believe me, I know.
This is a 3-hour cigar…Luckily, my only plans for the day are to make passionate love to both Charlotte and the cat. After that, it’s just hang around the abode while sipping on Mad Dog 20/20 and eating chopped liver. Growing up, my mother had a daily schedule for what we ate that night. Liver and onions were always once a week. If God had not invented Heinz ketchup, I would not be alive today.
The cigar is burning at the rate of a glacier melting. Please, that assessment only works if you don’t make a comment about global warming.
I’ve burned an inch in only 20 minutes. The initial flavor and complexity are in force but no monumental change yet.
So, have you heard the joke about the priest, a rabbi, and a chicken?
The burn is a little wonky, but I am not going to yell at this thing. It might have a self defense system built in. I don’t want to piss it off.
Lots of cinnamon graham crackers working hard. Followed by green grapes, chocolate, coffee, lots of malt, black pepper, and a bit of tartness that is lemon-like.
A seam comes loose so I grab my PerfecRepair glue and voila! Problem solved. Before Rod invented this stuff, I tried so many other options and they were a real pain in the ass that worked sometimes.
I don’t believe there is forward momentum. Pretty much how the cigar started…which was pretty damn fine. It is going to take a while for the blender’s intent to kick in with pizazz.
Well, if the stats are correct, I have another 13 years til I’m 85 and still hyper annoying. I might outlive the younger reviewers.
Especially since the 47th variant of Covid will still be around.
Watch, I will finish this review and fall over dead. My luck.
The cigar is linear at this time but since it started off with a bang, that’s OK. I am confident that the second half will excel…several hours from now.
I can’t wait to finish this review and enjoy a hearty breakfast of gruel and prune juice.
You are thinking two things right now…first, why are you reading this interminably long review…and second, only 7 of you are ever going to buy a cigar this big.
And I’m asking myself how long can I keep the patter going?
The Grateful Dead are playing. I was never a Dead Head. I never got the allure of their music. I never attended one of their happenings. I don’t like Jerry Garcia’s high-pitched voice. That reveal should eliminate half of my readers.
I gotta pee…be right back.
You ever find yourself constipated from overuse of opioids or a lousy diet? I use Psyllium. I drink a glass of water with the goop in it and before I can finish, I’ve already shat my pants.
Only 90 minutes to get here.
The blend begins to stretch its wings. A new plateau that snaps me out of focusing on hemorrhoid pain.
The complexity is different…better…its balance is enriched with flavors becoming more vibrant.
Strength is a moderate medium/full.
I still cannot hold the bugger in my mouth without using my hand to hold it there.
The flavors are richer now. Transitions finally kick in. The finish is a pleasant array of sweet and savory moments.
The cap end has gotten too juicy, so I clip a bit off. Sopping wet tobacco is unpleasant.
As I haven’t even reached the halfway point, I am beginning to wonder if this blend is of the style that the whole exceeds its parts.
I know all of you have smoked this cigar in an easier size to deal with and it’s a great blend.
I guess size matters because I’m having a new experience with the Triqui Traca.
So far, no nicotine. I’m sure being Bar Mitzvahed at 13 has a lot to do with this.
There are a lot of brands pumping out ultra-big cigars. But I wouldn’t buy most of them in the regular sizes. This behemoth is a Saka cigar, so it looks down at these subpar blends and laughs.
If you smoke this cigar after dinner, it will last til bedtime.
I am nearing the halfway point. The point of no return.
The stick is now delicious as hell. Subtleties and nuances are running in a marathon.
Waves of bliss pass through my body and relax me to the point of becoming boneless.
My mother had just died. It was 1968. The tradition of shiva was running nuts in my home. No TV. No music. No nothing for 7 days. I was going crazy. I sneaked out and headed for the gang’s hangout. I was crestfallen and depressed. This beautiful girl asked another girl who I was? I never noticed her at all. But we started talking and I fell in love.
We dated a few times but then the bottom fell out. Her mother asked if I was a Jew? Turns out the wise mother had a sister that was knocked up by a Jew. She forbade my new girlfriend from ever seeing me again.
We would have secret dates, but we didn’t hide the fact very well. Her parents sent her to Europe for the summer. When she returned, we went out. And she told me we were over. Just like that. The parents were brilliant anti-Semites.
I thought it was my mother’s doing for helping me cope. Clearly, her soul did not expect that I’d be in a nest of Jew haters. But life continued.
The cigar keeps chooglin’. The cigar has become a ninja warrior. I still can’t hold it in my mouth.
The overall complexity is the star of the show. There is not a slew of flavors that stand out individually. It is the whole megillah.
Is it 2022 yet?
The stick is now entering full strength territory. Any moment, my typing will disintegrate. Passing out is now an option.
But it tastes like manna from the gods.
I get a burn issue that needs attention.
This cigar needs to be put into a cryogenic capsule and allowed to rest for a year.
Despite the nicotine trying to put me into a coma, the exultant flavor combo and its balance keeps my interest at a very high level. (It took me 4 minutes to type the last sentence).
It’s taken me 2-1/2 hours to get here.
This is a cigar that should be smoked with your friends, and everyone gets a Triqui Traca 7 x 64.
It is near impossible to sit in one place and smoke the whole thing.
I worked with a general contractor project manager in the early 2000’s when I worked in the San Francisco Bay area. Same age as me. He told me a story which I will truncate.
Every year, Neil Young would throw a huge party to garner donations for the special school in the Napa/Sonoma area. My project manager friend told me he was tour manager for CSN&Y in the early 70’s. He got an invite to the charity event. He approached Young and shook his hand. Then he had the balls to ask Young’s name.
Neil Young went ballistic. “You don’t know who I am??” He repeated that a few times. Young was angry. But my buddy played the act without divulging who he was. I guess that Young is an arrogant S.O.B.
The full tilt strength isn’t taking me out. The blend is so good that I don’t want to give in.
The blend continues on its path of improving with each puff.
I finish out at 3-1/2 hours.
The price is fair. Especially for a cigar this size with a very good reputation.
It’s time for my gruel and substituting bourbon for the prune juice.
What an experience.
Happy New Year everyone. May 2022 bring good health and happiness to you all.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS