Wrapper: Ecuadorian / Habano / Rosado Cafe / Oliva Tobacco Co.
Binder: US / Undisclosed
Filler: Nicaraguan, Ct Broad Leaf, Undisclosed
Size: 5.75 x 52 Short Belicoso
From Luxury Cigar Club:
“This is the vitola Dapper made exclusively for Luxury Cigar Club The Short Belicoso was Dapper’s first figurado vitola and were proud to call it ours!
“Desvalido… roughly translating to “Those without hope” in Cuban Spanish. Without a doubt, Desvalido is the cigar I’ve dreamed of making for years but without the right tobacco, time, connections, and dare I say…. hope.”
Several things catch my attention. First, is the sheer oiliness of the wrapper. It glimmers and shines like a huge spider web hit by noon day sun. The wrapper is a solid espresso/bronze color. The cap is beautifully articulated. There are large veins that look like canals on Mars. Seams are nearly invisible. The cigar is heavy in the hand. Packed perfectly as I squeeze it from its hairless toupee to its toeless foot. I rarely comment on cigar bands but this one catches certain synapses in my brain with its Navy blue and gold adornments. Go Rams.
SMELL THE GLOVE:
I can smell the chocolate covered raisins from 3 feet away. Always my favorite movie theater candy as a kid. It was a blast watching silent movies while an old biddy played piano. Sound would not come until a couple years later. But it was nice that if you slipped the concierge a buck, a kid could get a nice beer for a quarter.
I also smell Peppermint Patty. Another favorite kid’s treat. I smell barnyard…the kids who had to sit in the balconies could buy 8oz of barnyard drippings in a cup for only a nickel. And everyone loved the Coca Colas because it still had cocaine in the drink. 500 kids in a theater amped up. Parents were called. It isn’t fun to go to theaters anymore. Sound ruined everything.
The draw is poifect. Due to the solid formation of this stick, I expected at least a plug near the cigar band. My PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool looks up at me with sad eyes. I use two fingers to poke those eyes and finish up with me spinning the tool in a clockwise rotation.
The cold draw presents flavors of chocolate, raisins, malted milk, creamy mint, ginger cookies, lox and bagels with Suzy cream cheese, hazelnuts, Ritz crackers and earth, wood, and fire.
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
With each early puff, flavors begin a scrum by layering one body on top of the other. While my first impression is that the organic taste of the leaves carries the heavy load, there are nuances of complex notes of graham cracker, charred meat, oak, caramel, raw hedgehog, black pepper, and a slight touch of your spice rack.
Complexity emerges from the point of lighting up and continues to develop a distinct character that tells me this is going to be an excellent blend surpassing most cigars.
The burn line is right on brothers. It takes its time and does a slow roll as if it has not a care in the world. It becomes subservient to my palate which is lapping up anything it can grab on to.
I know right now (I may eat my words later in the review) that this is going to be a sophisticated blend in which the whole outweighs its disparate parts.
Creaminess enters. Crisp candied lemon rind gives the blend a perfectly timed introduction. I get wisps of subtle flavors that might just show up in a fast-moving set of transitions as this baby burns baby burns.
Strength is medium/full by 1” smoked. But the strength hits all the pleasure zones in my shriveling brain.
Speaking of shriveling, I made sure to pee before I began this review. This act of contrition is very important to old guys like me.
The finish is delicate with a sense of generic sweetness, a light touch of spiciness, lemon pound cake, malt, and cedar.
My orthopod is scheduled to call me today with my MRI results. I’m sure he is going to give me a terminal verdict of 6 months. I will tell him I can’t pay. And he will tell me, “OK. You’ve got a year.”
One thing I find in the common resources of a very sophisticated blend is the ultra-smoothness it imparts to my central nervous system and my bevy of pet ferrets.
I also recognize that a great blend always relaxes the shit out of me. I don’t understand how it affects the brain in this manner. It is always the first thing I look for in my prediction of the blend’s signal flags.
The ash is like a structural member holding on to the foot with high strength bolts.
The perfect example of passionate blending is that the profile never takes a step back…always moving forward to bigger and more impressive notes.
I love this cigar. And it has taken me 25 minutes to smoke 1.” Is this nuts, or what?
I hound away in my reviews that if you purchase a cigar in the $15+ range, it should be a complete Korean body massage with a happy ending. As my schmekel shrinks with each passing year of my life, I’ve devoted to providing funding to Dr. Rod to design a PerfecPudStretcher. He has been working furiously on it.
The medium/full strength is pure delight. No thoughts of the spins or projectile vomiting into my compost pile…or as Charlotte and I call it, the cat’s litter box.
The char line continues on the perfect quest to walk with the baby Jesus and turn water into cannabis.
Here are the showoff essential elements: Creaminess, graham cracker, lemon curd, licorice, raisins, black pepper, forged immigrant status written on edible rice paper, malt, caramel, cedar, and a blistering note of charred meat.
Transitions are moving like the guy in your office that drinks too many Red Bulls before lunch. Café au lait comes and goes as it pleases.
The combo of leaf stats is the real star of this burlesque show. I grab some pasties and do the Boogie Oogie Oogie.
I’m a fan of Dapper cigars. Serious thought always front and center in the blending process.
I’m only at 1-3/4” burned point. And 35 minutes in.
It is like taking acid and going to Disneyland. Which I did when I was a young man. Took months to get that “It’s a Small World” song out of my head. Remember, just say no.
In high school, half the kids got part time gigs at Disneyland. I had a mustache and was rejected immediately. Knott’s Berry Farm opened its arms wide to me.
A good buddy asked if I wanted to take a drive to pick up his paycheck. I remember standing behind tall walls where employees could thrive. I saw one costumed character enter, removed the big head, hair plastered from the heat, and dry heave into trash barrels. Some of it emanating from being constantly kicked in the nuts by small children.
The intensity is at Chernobyl level.
Individual flavors meld into the character of the blend giving the cigar a huge boost in its delicate psyche.
The blend finds its way to the halfway point at 45 minutes. The sweet spot screams out with George Carlin’s 7 words you can’t say on TV.
Sips of water cause the Desvalido to broaden its spectrum with a twisted sense of humor and fiery epithets that only a dog can hear.
It is time to remove the billboard. Nothing makes me feel dumber than trying to figure out which direction the band was designed to disrobe.
Strength is now mightier than a Canadian invasion.
The sweet spot is so sure of itself that it feels comfortable giving me a colonoscopy.
My last endoscopy was a nightmare. Not enough knock out juice so I felt every inch of the fire hose being shoved down my throat and into my stomach. I know there is no way I could be a proud gay man.
A great cigar is capable of forcing you to live in the moment. This is the stamp of excellence.
I lean back, with the Desvalido in my mouth, and find ecstasy by scratching my nut sack that rests on the floor. I shoosh the cat away.
Any time I see my urologist, and he asks about the scratches that cover my treasure of all treasures, I shake my head and tell him about my German wife. Docs are always afraid of additional explanation.
The entirety of this experience has folded the individual flavors to its breast…while begging for Lois Lane to strip down to her Madonna pointed bra.
The burn line has not faltered once. The cigar sees no soft spots arising from the heat and humidity.
Dark chocolate makes its first appearance. Marzipan follows.
The finish begins to make my jaw ache.
In my 30’s, I dated a beautiful stripper. It was the only time I got lice.
I find myself laying in the sand at Huntington Beach with the warm SoCal sun mesmerizing me as I watched surfers being eaten by hungry seals.
Ever club a baby seal? Me neither. Well, there was this one time…some seals can be taught to cover their teeth while blowing me. But there was always one in the crowd with a mean disposition.
The Desvalido is perfect for my palate. It is akin to smoking opium with a gorgeous girl. Or having your neighbor moving your trash and recycling bins to the curb for you.
Nicotine levels are low. Not a lick of harshness or heat.
Great fucking cigar. A solid 90 minutes of exceptional pleasure.
Get yours at Luxury Cigar Club. Do not forget to use promo code: Katman for 15% off your entire order.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS