PDR A. Flores 1975 Gran Reserva Maduro 2022 | Cigar Reviews by the Katman

Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés Maduro
Binder: Dominican Olor
Filler: Nicaraguan Habano, Dominican Corojo
Size: 5 x 52 SP22
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $14.00 ($12.63 online)($7.99 at Thehumidor.com)($9.00 at Cigarcountry.com)

My sticks have had 3 months of naked humidor time.
It is a limited edition, but PDR did not disclose the quantity. I found the cigars online at Famous Smoke.

First, this blend absolutely needs a few months of naked humidor time prior to lighting up. I smoked a couple in the first two months, but it was month 3 that made all the difference in the world. At $14 a pop, you don’t want to waste a good cigar.

The cigar is flush with creamy chocolate.
A spicy start that introduces the blend to my palate. Immediate complexity shovels in. A rich chocolate T-bones my withering senses. Creaminess is piggy backing.

The construction is superb. No need for my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool. It takes a bus to Graceland out of spite.

This is exactly what I expect from a $14 stick. The blend attacks without mercy. Transitions begin to whirl like a dancer performing for the new king.

Baking spices fill the cracks. Strength is medium.

Sweetness enters and it is fruity like Richard Simmons; but better. No sweating.

The char line is a sight to see…but you won’t as I’m a lazy bum.

Espresso joins the mélange. The cigar is pulling at all the threads and is forming an impressive Christmas sweater.

My gumboots are tapping in a syncopated rhythm as my brain sends signals that my palate is happy.

With an inch burned, the depth is declaring victory. Flavors are diamonds on the soles of my shoes.

I kick myself as I realize I should have been more patient with my timing in smoking previous sticks.

If I had reviewed this stick upon receipt or barely after, I would have come up with insults that even Don Rickles wouldn’t have used.

The spice is a combo of black and red peppers. Subtle with its ass kicking. And doesn’t overwhelm the flavor points.

The blend will morph until the wandering flavor notes are jerked inward to fatten the blend.

At my age, role models fade into obscurity or leave the planet in a huff…some in a minute and a huff. Still, you can call me Al.

This is a box worthy blend. Especially, if you have discretionary cash coming out your ears.

Creamy chocolate remains the title of this song.

The fruits are as disparate as the sonnets written by Euclid. Apricot, dried cherries, raisins, and flaming ferret on a stick.

Cinnamon adds to the spiciness. Apple forms in front of me. As a kid, I loved a hard cinnamon candy apple on a stick. The gooey caramel apples did not intrigue me.

Strength moves to medium/full at 2” burned.

I visualize laying under African skies looking up at a star-studded sky. I grew up in L.A. so trips to the Griffith Park Observatory came often. In the 1950’s and 1960’s, the space race made children dream of being an astronaut. I remember, that in 1957, radio stations would play the beeping sound of Sputnik and the world would marvel at the technical advancement.

Nicotine enters but is not lethal.

The halfway point inaugurates the sweet spot. The tobacco explodes and Charlotte yells at me about the mess.

Complexity is so rich that my brain fumbles at the mastery.
This is a great cigar.

Chocolate, creaminess, spiciness from all angles, sweet fruit, malt, espresso, licorice, nuttiness, and tobacco blended correctly.

The burn is a slow roll allowing my brain to sop up all the juices at an even pace.
Ultra-smooth. Strength hits full tilt. My eyelids droop. I’m a man so I can take it.

The strength will be too much for those faint at heart. But for those sophisticates that can cowboy up…it will be a love affair.

I have no problem about the price point. This blend is a work of art.

I sent in photos of my Maine Coon and my rock photos to a local TV station. They want me to appear and talk about it…the rock, not so much the cat. Not sure if I will do this yet. I’ll let you know.

I was on a cable TV show back in the early 80’s in which the topic was how to get your partner hot. I did a perfect phone interview and then completely choked on stage.

I’m all out of adjectives. So, I look at Little Sally Walker sitting in a saucer and ask if we’re done. I get the nod.

Again, the only place I found this cigar was online at Famous Smoke. I’m sure you have more patience so do some treasure hunting when you can.
NOTE: I found some cheaper sticks at a couple other online stores. See Leaf Stats above for those stores and price points.

I endorse this cigar for sainthood.


And now for something completely different:
Dr. O. L. Jaggers (Universal World Church)
(The first church aired from the planet CERES)
The story of an insane preacher.

We were the triumvirate. The Musketeers. The Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Skip, Travis, and me. We were roommates during our college days. We lived in a nice 3-bedroom house in Santa Ana. On summer nights, we regularly climbed up to the hip and valley roof and watched the stars and passed the doobies. Marvelous times even though we were as poor as church mice.

The Triumvirate +1 Phil Kohn, Travis Hirth, Tim Krenzien (R.I.P), Skip Howlett (R.I.P.)             ~aka “Zelmo Mutz & The Enrique Twins”
We had a few indulgences on TV. Star Trek, Rocky and Bullwinkle, live music concerts…and Dr. O.L. Jaggers.

Jaggers and his wife Miss Velma were very odd creatures that entertained us to the point that our sides hurt from laughing. They were a pair of evangelical preachers that scared the bejeezus out of us.
Miss Velma standing on planet Earth:

We decided we would spend a Sunday morning in the presence of both.

Jaggers was based out of South-Central L.A. He had a huge church cluttered with massive photos/paintings of himself and his wife…they seemed god-like in their poses. But the stage was the real show.

Jaggers had built a 60’-0 long golden altar on that stage. The altar had to have been over 10’-0 high.

It was painted white with gold trim. It had gargoyles and angels and weird outcroppings of artistic impressions of Jesus and Mary. Above the altar were disco balls that were lit and spinning so that the golden altar sparkled like something that had dropped from heaven.

This thing was so big, it could fit a four-piece band along with 15 black Gospel singers on it. Directly in front of the altar, was a dazzling white grand piano with gold trim. Jaggers would play it by playing arpeggios and sang his songs of “I’m nuts, how are you?”

Back to the essentials of the Jaggers: They were insane. While Jaggers preached, there would be 8th grade science and biology movie clips shown behind him. They had the scratches and stutter of old films. And had nothing to do with what he preached. Of course, no one had any idea what he preached because he was nuts. We would smoke a doob hoping we would understand. That didn’t help. He also wore white garb that looked like it was made for The Commodores.

Our favorite part was near the end of the show when he grabbed his all white Fender Stratocaster and began playing Pete Townshend style, with windmill strokes. Mind you, this man was in his 60’s at the time and was very conservative.

He told us TV viewers the only way our prayers could be heard by God was to send him money…and in return, he would send us a golden prayer cloth with the outline of his hand on it. So being the suckers we were, we sent the money and got a ratty, thread torn, golden cloth about 6” x 6” with a stamped handprint on it.

Because of the location, we were the only white boys in his church. But we were welcomed with warmth and generosity.

We marveled at the golden altar in person.

The crowd loved Jaggers and Miss Velma. They cheered and repeated words he prompted them to repeat like lemmings.

And then the anointing of the oil. We got in line while the gospel singers tore the place up. I had a huge, monster afro. Skip had hair past his shoulders. And Travis looked like the Gorton Fisherman. Real Hippies.

Women were flailing on the floors upon anointing. Convulsions. They got dragged away and out of the view of the TV camera. Every service was taped for TV consumption.

I wish I had a photo at the moment he looked at this hippie. I almost gave him a heart attack. But he still took the ketchup bottle with vegetable oil and squeezed it just a little extra for me on my forehead. There was pure hatred in his eyes. But I guess he didn’t want to edit the thing, so he played it straight for the cameras.

He announced that Sunday morning that Jesus Christ would appear at his church for the Easter services in a few weeks. Travis went by himself only to report that Jesus was a no show. Travis was crazy and took LSD and rode to L.A. on his Harley. He was hoping to meet Jesus.

Jaggers was such a nut, that there are several of his sermons YouTube. Here are some samples to give you an idea of what we were dealing with.

WARNING: I urge you to watch both videos in their entirety. To truly enjoy and understand what you hear and see, I suggest that you drink heavily or smoke 41% thc cannabis beforehand. It is only then, after you experience the Jaggers for 15 minutes and then 8 minutes…no matter the pain, that you will realize that my words can’t do the situation justice. Amen, brothers…you’ll thank me. Your lives will be changed forever. You shall ever curse me. God bless.



Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,