Bolivar Cofradia Lost & Found EMS | Cigar Reviews by the Katman

Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra (Aged 5-8 Years)
Binder: U.S. Connecticut Broadleaf
Filler: Dominican (Habano Seco), Honduran (Habano Seco), Nicaraguan (Habano Viso)
Size: 6 x 54 Toro
Strength: Mild/Medium
Price: $6.99

The cigars have been hibernating naked in my humidor for nearly 5 months. Dry boxed for 3 days.

Production: Undisclosed
Released: February 2022
From (4-9-2022):
“In 2021, Robert Caldwell of Lost&Found joined Justin Andrews, new business development manager of STG North America Branded and Rest of World Division, on a visit to the STG Danlí factory in Honduras to begin working on a new collaborative project. As they considered different tobaccos for the project, they came across bales of two specific types of tobaccos that had been aged between five and eight years.

“Those tobaccos would go onto be the axis upon which the new project would spin, and which would be named Bolivar Cofradia Lost & Found.
“There are two blends released as part of the collaboration; the black-banded Oscuro uses a Connecticut broadleaf wrapper, Ecuadorian Sumatra binder, and fillers from the Dominican Republic, Honduras and Nicaragua. The red-banded EMS blend keeps the filler the same but flips the wrapper and binder, meaning an Ecuadorian Sumatra wrapper and Connecticut broadleaf binder.

“Both blends are offered in the same two sizes and at the same price points: the 5 x 50 robusto has an MSRP of $6.99, while the 6 x 54 toro is priced at $7.49 per cigar. That translates into $34.95 and $37.95, respectively, for a pack of five cigars. Those packs come wrapped in a heavy paper that will be immediately recognizable to fans of Lost&Found.

“Lost & Found started when a Central American factory gave me a rare blend to sell in the US, and today with the release of this capsule collection from Bolivar Cofradia, it feels like Lost & Found has come full circle,” said Caldwell in a press release. “I would have never imagined standing among a sea of bales at HATSA, knowing that any tobacco we wanted to blend with was available to Justin and me. This collection represents the power of a strong collaboration.”

Robusto 5 x 50 $6.99
Toro 6 x 54 $7.49

Aromas are potent: Dark chocolate, floral, and espresso. There are smaller notes of black licorice, pecans, black pepper, vanilla, cedar, miso, and beef jerky.

Cold draw presents flavors of dark chocolate, espresso, creaminess, nuttiness, miso, black pepper, and vanilla.

The draw is wide, wide open. I throw my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool the floor and scream: “I knew your mother…she was a whore and a slut. She’d bend over for $5. And you are her bastard non-binary offspring.” It, they, them, yabba dabba do, him/her, and that person rips its own heart out with a Venus Radiant SkinRazor.

I found a very small handful of written reviews. Ratings were 88-92. Which ain’t half bad. Still, the cigar has been out for a while and one would expect more reviews, even if it is an inexpensive cigar.

The cigar isn’t even close to being jam packed…very light in the hand. The draw is wide open like my first wife.

The burn is hot…thereby proving that the cigar is under filled.

In the first couple minutes, the cigar tastes like burning garbage in New Jersey.

I get an immediate run. I smoked two before this review cigar. Both had the same issues.

Half an inch in and it feels like I’m caught in a brush fire. Save the Sequoias!

An inch burns around the 5-minute mark. Well at least it will be a quick review.

Flavors are slight at best: Creaminess, espresso, spicy black pepper, cedar, and boiled roast beef.
The heat of the cigar is disconcerting.

I don’t care what the P.R. says, this blend will not change the course of cigar blending into the future.

Just another tactic by Big Cigar to lure in newbies, those on strict budgets, and those who don’t care what they smoke.

Not an iota of complexity. No transitions. The finish is burning wood. And the heat makes the back of my mouth burn.

It may not seem like it but prepping for a written review and then spending the time to review it takes 3-4 hours. I now realize why only a few reviewers bothered to spend that time wasted on this blend.

At nearly 2” burned (12 minutes), there are notes that constitute the cigar striving to find flavors in this mess. The black pepper and the ensuing forest fire in my mouth nearly drown out those attempts.

“Can’t Find My Way Home” by Clapton and Winwood. Great tune from the 1969 Blind Faith album.

This is a perfect “The Time Machine” story of how the Morlocks lured the Eloi into captivity so they could be eaten…offer them this Bolivar cigar. The Eloi were Caligula-like doofuses. They smoked Quorums.

At the halfway point (18 minutes), the heat relents just enough to allow some flavors to break on through to the other side. The creaminess is out front ahead of some caramel and nuttiness. I’ll take anything at this point.

I had wrapper discombobulating issues with the first two cigars. Happening again on this cigar. Need to use Rod’s PerfecRepair glue to save the day.

I’m not sure if it is my brain over heating or I actually taste some complexity in this runaway forest fire…must be the glue. Ever make plastic models as a kid? Remember using that tube or bottle glue and getting higher than a kite? Me neither.

The cigar is caving in on itself. The key word is smooshy.

The second half improves some. Most assuredly a baby Jesus miracle.

The heat is slightly tempered down from brush fire to campfire.

There are actually pleasant notes appearing rising from the dust. The black pepper has subsided enough to allow a few nuances to flash me…again, creaminess, caramel, Hawaiian bread, cedar, a slight citrus tang, and fried ferret nostrils.

After 5 months, this cigar should have started with a bang of some note. Maybe they need to be put away sealed for 5 years.

The blend is much better now. The overbearing heat was making me miserable. I can finally determine that the strength is medium.

The blend executed a belly flop. While the pain is momentary, it does feel better later. This is what the cigar manufacturer should have used in the press release.

Still, using advanced physics, I determine that this Toro will no more than a 35-minute cigar. That is just ridiculous.

When the end is near, I do expect the heat, along with deep harshness, to appear making this a good fire starter in your fireplace.

Sure enough, with 2” left, the cigar turns into a bang grenade. I do not believe our sun gets this hot. And the harshness is akin to biting into a fire hot grilled cheese sandwich.

The numbers released for this cigar is undisclosed. No shit. I wouldn’t take any chances either. But they had to know that this cigar is a dud. Therefore, the cigar can disappear into the mist without fanfare.


And now for something completely different:

I was never that bright in the world of street sense. We were touring in the far south-west country of England. We were in the seaside community of Torquay…just east of Plymouth. Torquay is in the county of Devon which is one of the most beautiful places in the U.K. Mick, our guitarist, had lots of friends there who he invited to the concert and to hang out with.

I was never comfortable with my public status in Curved Air. I was merely a hired gun and not part of the rock star club the other members were. Imagine being a 24-year-old local L.A. musician who gets thrown into a big band doing major tours and recording albums.

It’s pretty trippy as I look back. I felt that I was the same SoCal kid who just happened to be playing bass in a band. The fact that we played in front of huge crowds was the only difference in my head. But no matter the size of the auditorium or arena we played; we couldn’t see the audience. It was black. All we could see is the first few rows. I think that helped to relax me when I played. If I was watching 20,000 people watching the band and me, I probably would have been paralyzed. Think back to when you were 24 and where your head was at. And now this time, you are in a big Brit band. You’re a kid!
The original band leaders took their fame seriously. It was boorish to me.

The exception was Mick because his friends were good people and down to earth… one in particular, a very pretty girl named Cynthia, took a liking to me. I had no radar and Mick had to tell me. We spent 3 days in Torquay and Plymouth doing two shows over two nights.

On the second day, Cynthia and I began to hang. She was a lot of fun; smart, funny, witty, and extremely good looking. We began holding hands as we walked the seaside and boardwalks. And did a little smooching. I was truly enjoying myself. Musician perks were paying off.

For our first concert. Mick got all his friends front row tickets. And it turned out that Cynthia got caught up in the show with all the lights and the big sound system and by my dynamic personality on stage. (Facts get distorted over time).

Me on the far left playing my 1970 Gibson EBO bass with additional Fender P pickups:

We did a 2-1/2 hour show, including encores. For some reason, the audience always expected us to do 3-5 encores a night…which just floored me. The band had a history that I was not part of. And the band coming out of hibernation from 2 years of sleep really got the huge fan base going. And I should mention that these were the original players except for me. Another story.

The huge klieg lights made me sweat like a monkey or a clam. Not sure which. So, by the time we hit the dressing room, I was drenched. My leather pants clung to my skin making it very uncomfortable. Taking off suede leather pants while you are soaked was like the Spanish Inquisition. I usually raced to the bathroom to change into my civvies, but I wanted to impress Cynthia. Kept my wet leather pants on this night.

I sat in a big chair while she stroked my forehead with a damp wash cloth. It felt great. She felt great.

I took Mick aside and told him it looked like I was getting laid that night. But I knew nothing about her. What if she had an STD? Oh God! Condoms were not in style back then. And I still had the stigma of a teen about walking into a pharmacy and buying them.

He told me the way you tell is light a cigarette and get some tar and nicotine on your thumb and forefinger. Then you insert them into her vagina and if she jumps, because it stings, well…you know there is something wrong. The only problem was that I had never smoked a cigarette in my life.

The whole time she and I hung out, she smoked cigarettes and I declined them every time she offered one. How would I do this and not look stupid.

After partying in the dressing room for a couple of hours, we left for the hotel. It was a given that Cynthia was coming to my room with me.
I was nervous as hell.

We got undressed and I asked for a cigarette. She looked stunned. “I thought you don’t smoke fags, darling.”

I choked and gagged on the cigarette trying to look cool while she looked at me like I was from outer space. I kept rubbing my fingers on the cigarette filter until I saw a brown substance on my fingers. Time to go to work.

We made out for a while. I liked this a lot. All the while, I was trying to keep those fingers from touching her which made the whole thing comical.

Finally. I did the deed, and she never made the expected “Ouch” sound.
I was relieved. So, we spent the night making love. It was a great night and I remember seeing the sun come up with her and me sitting on the patio of the hotel room in our bathrobes provided by the hotel. My fro looked like a squished sea urchin. She laughed at me every time she looked at me. I laughed too. A fro was very high maintenance. I hated it but it made me look very rock n roll.

Years later, of course, I came to find that Mick’s technical test for STD was all hogwash. Like I said, I wasn’t very street smart. But she was a good girl and there was never any chance of me catching anything.
Thank goodness. My girlfriend, back in London, would have killed me if I gave her the crabs.