Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 3.5 x 50 Petit Robusto
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $8.00
Factory: My Father Cigars S.A. Nicaragua
Released: August 2023
My cigars received 3 months of naked humidor time.
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
A touch of barnyard but it is the dark cocoa that hump slaps my schnoz and, minutes later, my brain.
The fatty is a seamless victim for my PerfecPunch. Delectable innards are bequeathed to the interior of my giant open maw: incredible chocolate brownie with ancillary touches of cumin, cinnamon, sourdough bread, spicy red pepper, and creamy bratwurst.
Have you seen that tv commercial for some expensive med in which the highlight is a banjo player as the star of the band. Girls swarm the guy when the music stops. How did the idiot advertising company sell this to the clueless customer? A banjo player? Now, if it was a bass player…
On early puffs, flavors are piled on like corned beef at Cantor’s. No surprises I care not…dark chocolate, cinnamon, smoked brisket, creamy buffalo sauce, black pepper, charred marshmallow ala graham crackers, and the early makings of a Three Musketeers bar.
I only found one review and the cigar was released 18 months ago. Normally, this bodes tragedy. I chose to review it because it is an affordable cigar by an esteemed blender. Note: I smoked my last L’Atelier Roxy Natural and decided to write a review until I realized I smoked my last L’Atelier Roxy Natural.
The blend has rough edges ala your typical AJ smoke. Yet it maintains easy smoothness due to the banana flanarama of interesting flavors. This is a surprisingly tasty cigar that wastes zero time in its effort to please. NUB cigars were designed for this purpose, but they are pedestrian blends at best.
Creaminess begins an inch in.
The L’Atelier Roxy Natural was creamy and rich. The Maduro is splendid with more punch. I consider myself a Maduro man, but in this case, the Natural was a more refined smoke.
The halfway point kicks in at 35 minutes. A slow leisurely good time.
Three Musketeers bar is now fait acompli. Nougaty, rich, smooth, and sweet. The Natural was not a sweet blend. Two different animals despite them both containing the same binder and filler.
The Ecuadorian Sancti Spiritus wrapper can add an exquisite flavor to any cigar. The Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro brings a rough cob approach to the blend.
The sweetness has a nice burgundy wine taste.
Strength up to this point is very manageable. Now with less than 2” to go, the main sail swoops in and is kicking my arse.
A decent $8 stick is hard to come by these days. The Roxy Maduro is a solid smoke. But if you’re torn between the two, grab the Natural. Its sophistication level makes it the more attractive blend.
You can purchase the L’Atelier Roxy Maduro from sponsor Small Batch Cigar. Take 10% off with promo code KATMAN.
RATING: 90
And now for something completely different:
Curved Air was recording at Island Studios in London…in the Jamaican district. It was my second album with the band.
The available Jamaican food was a big step up from the usual British fare of beans on toast. It was pretty cool being a neophyte rock god because you could tell the production assistants what to do; like “Go get me some food. Get the money from our tour manager.”
The building could accommodate two separate studios. We were in Studio A and the Baker-Gurvitz Army was in Studio B. You remember Ginger Baker. The drummer in Cream. His new band was also a three piece but with two NYC guys that were brothers.
My girlfriend had me babysit Jennifer…her 5-year-old daughter while she worked. I had basically finished my chores of laying down the bass tracks. We were tasked to lay down the rhythm section parts first and then layer the rest of the instruments. I think Curved Air would have been better suited to play live in the studio to give the music some authenticity…but I was a hired gun with no say.
Hanging out in the control room once I was done with my parts, having the opportunity to watch big time recording and mixing was a blast…and I certainly didn’t have anything better to do. I was a star inside that building and got treated as such.
I was sitting on the lounge couch, eating my lunch, when the “Army” came out for a break. Ginger walked over to one of the pin ball machines and put some coins into the machine. He played for a few minutes. Little Jennifer tenuously sauntered over and stood next to him, looking up at the big man.
Ginger stopped playing and grabbed a milk crate. He tilted it on one end. He motioned with one hand for Jennifer to stand on it. Ginger wanted to provide the perfect height so she could observe and even play.
Ginger never said a word, even when a direct statement was pointed his way. He was completely focused on the game. Jennifer was making little screeches of joy as she got the hang of it. Ginger aggressively shook the machine to make the ball do his bidding. Jennifer imitated his wild motions. Remember, she was 5.
They did this for an hour. The band’s manager began telling Ginger that they need to get back into the studio. Ginger ignored him, but after a few minutes and after relentless nagging, finally agrees. Before he disappeared into the studio, he asked Jennifer her name…and she hugged the big man while saying goodbye. His eyes widened and it was the only time in a month of recording that I saw him smile.
As the days and weeks passed in the studio, Ginger’s time at the pin ball machine got longer and longer. I was happy because little Jenny was happy. Every night, she would chatter incessantly to her mother about her new friend, Ginger. This stunned mom which led her to take me aside and ask if I was always in their company? I nodded yes; I was. There wasn’t a weird bone in Ginger’s drug addled body when it came to Jennifer. He was a Papa Bear.
During this time, their band’s manager pleaded with me to leave Jennifer at home. This was costing them a fortune. He even brought in the band’s wives to volunteer to baby sit her. Jennifer didn’t want them. She wanted Ginger. So, I refused. I told them that I didn’t know them, and I wasn’t leaving her in their care.
So, the B-G Army manager got a hold of our manager, Miles Copeland, and pleaded with him to do something. He just shrugged it off and told the guy: ‘Control your talent. Not my problem.’
At the end of the month, we were done in the studio. Ginger still had another month booked. It was a very tender moment when the two said goodbye. Jennifer cried…and hugged and hugged Ginger. She wouldn’t let go when I tried to take her away. Ginger looked at me and I could see tears welling. The man still had never said a word to me.
Jennifer asked every day if we were going back. She cried every time I told her no. I was heartbroken for her. She had found an adult in her life beside her mother and I that she felt a bond with. And remember, we wrenched her away from all her grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins when we took her to Europe. So, this was the first genuine attachment she had. She felt safe with Ginger. With his reputation as an impatient hothead, it was truly an amazing thing.
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Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
