Wrapper: Ecuadorian Deflorada
Binder: Ecuadorian
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 5.5 x 46 Corona Gorda
Strength: Medium
Price: $12.00

My cigars received 2 months of naked humidor time.

BACKGROUND:
From Luxury Cigar Club:
“Warped is releasing a new cigar made in collaboration with Tabacalera La Isla, a newer factory out of Santiago, Dominican Republic. Both Kyle Gellis of Warped, and Hostos Quesada of La Isla are a dynamic duo.

“Bird on a Rose is a medium-bodied corona that weighs in at 5.5×46. Covered in a unique leaf, but one Warped uses on one of their most popular releases, La Colmena. An Ecuadorian Desflorado leaf was chosen for its bright and flavorful profile. Underneath, another leaf from Ecuador was chosen for the binder and finished with Nicaraguan fillers.”

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
Structure is good. But a joust with my PerfecDraw makes it better. Quick and fast plug…if you get my drift.

It’s one of those rare cigars that delectables drip from the wrapper. The most pungent is cotton candy…followed by subtle layers of floral notes, caramel, vanilla, graham cracker lush with cinnamon, milk chocolate, and slight citrus.

Instant karma upon firing up. Lemony and oaky. Rich with buttery layers like store bought biscuits. Milk chocolate slams into this aging palate. So creamy that I want to plotz. All this in the first 60 seconds.

Who knew that Rick Springfield is turning 75. You gotta put the emphasis on the word ‘knew.’

Warped’s Kyle Gellis is one of the most consistent blenders in this country. This is why I keep coming back to his living area. Most of his sticks are very reasonable which comes with laudatory praise. And his more expensive cigars are always worth the extra shekels. He won’t return my emails but then no one else will either so it matters not. As long as Hendrik Kelner and Jeremy Casdagli love me, the other shit is cool with me.

It’s like smoking a smoked meaty log of vanilla/lemon saltwater taffy. Rotation of flavors begins at 10 minutes in. Impossible to ignore. A pungent milk chocolate emphasis is just fucking lovely.

The burn stuns my brain like a wild dingo attack. Sharp like marmot’s teeth.

Without the aid from sips of coffee, the morphing continues. Café au lait without the caffeine. What’s the point. It’s either coffee or cocaine to get my heart started…and I gave up blow minutes ago. On doctor’s orders.

Not a flavor bomb. Its intensity lay in an open serene landscape full of sleeping dogs and seductively dressed nymphs.

Rarely does floral become a flavor. Until this moment when I realize I must be chewing on lavender… which I believe is poisonous.

Drummer Hal Blaine was always the sweetest man in the way he conducted our friendship. Never an ill word…only the occasional sarcasm. One day, he blew up at me in a manner that I thought ended our relationship. I had written a series of articles after interviewing well-known musicians. The theme was regardless the fame, every musician is fucked up with self-doubt. I, of course, put it in a much lighter tone when approaching my subjects. Hal explained how he would get ‘White Snow Fever’ if he saw blank spots in his date book for upcoming session gigs. If he wasn’t working constantly, he would panic. I asked if I could use that. He said yes. And then he read the published article, and not to put a fine point on it, he lost his shit on me. Never once heard the man use a curse word in the years I knew him. This conversation, every other word was ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.’ I had no idea that this career period was the beginning of the end of his prolific session work. Bands weren’t using The Wrecking Crew in the 80’s and 90’s because of the rise of electronics. I didn’t know this as it wasn’t telegraphed in the media…and Hal was too proud to clue me in. I gave it a week and called him. He apologized but didn’t explain. The friendship continued but we never spoke of the article again. He lived to 90 and passed a month after his birthday celebration at the famed jazz club The Baked Potato in Hollywood in 2019. He was a sweet man.

I still have a few old drum charts that Hal wrote for sessions he did at my Long Beach recording studio. I wish I had taken better care of them.

And this is Hal’s Sony video recorder he bought in 1971 for $2500 ($19,000 in 2024 dollars). He was on the Ed Sullivan Show as a featured artist in the Nancy Sinatra show from Las Vegas. He loaned it to me to make a copy of it and refused to take the giant anchor of a thing back because he was on his 4th divorce and was living on his yacht docked in Marina Del Rey.

Flavors repeat. The conga line becomes predictably delightful. They queue up like intermission at the London Palladium. Pumpkin teeth old women begrudgingly sell caffeine laden Sugar Pie Honey Bunch to the kids.

It would be very funny if I died a few minutes before a large order from Whole Foods arrived.

As the halfway point arrives, flavor intensity hunkers down. Congealing is horse latitudes. Sensory overload begins. Complexity swings for the fences and delivers to the roaring crowd. Now we’re talking. The first half was the all hopeful prelude. The cigar is rife with the intent of something well aged despite the short time I’ve had it.

Blenders are doing wonderful things with Ecuadorian tobacco. For ages, it was merely a Connie wrapper. Expansion of the blender’s imagination has taken hold and we hungry smokers are embracing it. More frequently, we see the design hold at medium strength. TNT powerful cigars are losing popularity. Who doesn’t like to swoon but sometimes it’s just a shot away. Ramble on.

I was invited for brunch on the Studio Sea. Hal liked to entertain his friends. It was always heart stopping deli. Heavyweights surrounded me. I didn’t speak much. I listened as the heroes discussed other heroes. If Hal hadn’t introduced me, no one would have known I was there.

I love this cigar. I do. I love the Corona Gorda. In the right hands, this diminutive stick is a brilliant 90-minute exercise. Flavors get to it johnny on the spot. No fucking around. The progression is exactly what us snobs love. Without transitions, it is just an ordinary catalog cigar. This is a bright blend. An old palate full of rubble isn’t required. Every level of smoker will taste exactly what I describe. Every review will be the same. A lot can be said for consistency of product.

Imagine plutonium in your athletic supporter. Feel the heat. This is the Bird. Not that bird.

Nothing wrong with nubbing when the pellet with the poison is in the flagon with the dragon, the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true.

I had a good time. I should do this more often.

After using promo codes, this cigar is a killer deal that lives in the $10 range. A 2024 bargain.

You can purchase this cigar from sponsors Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code ‘katman’) and Luxury Cigar Club (15% off with promo code ‘katman’).

RATING: 96

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: cigar reviews, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, katman, kyle gellis, phil kohn, Warped Bird on a Rose | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, warped cigars