Wrapper: Nicaraguan
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6.75 x 54 Torpedo
Strength: Full
Price: $40.00
Released: March 2024

My cigars received 5 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I have never balked at the prices of Padron cigars. I can’t afford them but when I put out the dough, I’m never disappointed.

It makes me nuts reviewing an expensive cigar. If I had Charlie Schink’s money, it wouldn’t bother me so much.

Most cigars are missing that principal factor of looking impressive. This stick has it down pat. The oil that emanates from this cigar gives the leaf the appearance of a master’s painting. It’s a gorgeous cigar.

The wrapper’s aromas exude light barnyard, mixed nuts, milk chocolate, herbal essences, and an even lighter touch of bourbon aged oak.

There is some resistance to the draw. I’m not a fan of using a draw tool on a torpedo, especially a $40 one. There is a good chance that once lit, it will open and meet my specific snobby needs. My PerfecDraw stares at me with its mouth wide open in disbelief. I shrug but the damn thing is a prima donna, so I stack it next to my massive collection of Fleet Enema bottles.

The cold draw is spicy with notes of cinnamon, clove, black soil (This is what we were served on Friday nights at the Catholic school I attended in the 50’s), the recurring bourbon cask, dark cocoa, and black pepper.

Bang the gong. Initial impression upon lighting up is ‘dang me, dang me…they oughta take a rope and hang me’ …Roger Miller

Very often a cigar likes this gets a remarkably similar response from critics. Flavors are not all over the place because of the wild goings-on in a reviewer’s brain and from his trained palate. Instead, this blender knew how to make a cigar whose flavors and depth are received in totem from all. I like it when this happens because it means consistency. If a cigar blend is not consistent, it is usually ridiculed by reviewers; me included.

A lovely natural creamy sweetness shows up after a few minutes. The blend starts out smooth as an English cucumber…knowing full well that this cigar is a bludgeon designed to be full tilt strength. I smoked two sticks prior to this review. They weren’t ready with only a couple months of naked humidor time. Imagine my dismay at blowing $80. Funny thing is cigars at this price point, with a feasible moniker like Padron, sell out immediately. Guys with dough.

I am in total accordance with reviews I read prior to this opinion piece. An earthy cigar with manly ketones. One critic said the main flavor was ‘thick.’ I agree wholeheartedly. A sophisticated blend is not about the flavor wheel, it’s about the optic sensations a seasoned smoker will experience.

Speaking of sophisticated, I’m getting a BJ by this chick I just met. (This is where elite cigar industry professionals clock out). That’s all I have to say about that.

The organic sweetness that this cigar possesses is amazing.

All Padron blends excel with extended aging. This is the perfect example of a cigar that should be put away for a year, or longer, so that the first puff knocks you on your ass.

Torpedo or belicoso vitolas are craved by the elite because the narrow aperture presents a fuller and more intense experience. I don’t know how much of that is true or how much is hooey. In this case, this torpedo requires that you lop off an inch from the cap to get to the honey hole…making this a 6” stick instead of a 7”.

The second third sees the blend opening with refined flavors of mild spiciness that my palate explains as black pepper, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Sweetness encourages a more passionate approach. Bourbon laced oak casks taste like it was aged as such. No idea how they do that without the bourbon or the cask. Earthiness deepens with a rich profundity that makes me nod my head like a bobble toy.

The first half was extremely delightful. Is this cigar worth $40? So far, my emphatic stand is yes. This is a special occasion cigar.

I read licorice by the critics. It tastes subtler like fennel. Who does not love a cigar when you can read along and get the same experience instead of saying, ‘What the hell is he talking about?’

The richness is off the grid. Amazingly, the strength which started at medium is only now seeing a stronger medium/full. Sometimes blenders use a natural light hued wrapper to accommodate a smoker’s need to believe a blend will not hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s pretty cool.

Creaminess continues its journey without interruption. Nutmeg, cinnamon, aged oak, and a new fruitiness that reminds me of mixed berries. Flavors do not monopolize the trek but rather are an adjunct to a luxurious sumptuousness. So nice.

My forehead begins to wrinkle. Strength begins.

My downfall as a writer is that I write in the moment. I cannot write and then go back and edit my thoughts over and over. It’s like writing a bass line. You can take something that works the first time and then smash it into garbage because you are never satisfied. The difference is that instantaneous rendering of musical notes is good. Contemporaneous leans more to being a hack…which I’m at peace with.

The deception is over in the last two inches. The hammer bears down. Full tilt. I have my swoon on. My vision blurs. It’s like the first five minutes of coming on to good acid. I am having a really good time.

I do not recommend smoking this phantasm on an empty stomach. Cleanse your palate after dinner and go what ho. Fortunately, the killer strength does not appear until you are in the final throws. The extensive richness precludes me from putting it down. That and it would mean throwing away $11.85.
This was fun.

You can purchase Padrón cigars from sponsor Small Batch Cigar. Take 10% off with promo code KATMAN.

RATING: 96

And now for something completely different:

We had played our first gig in Amsterdam…always the first city on the European tour.
We always took the opportunity the Dutch government provided by going to the Paradiso Club which was government run and required a lifetime admission of 5 Guilders. Back then, a Guilder was around 25 cents. It was a multi-tiered humongous venue with different types of live music on each floor.

The club had a huge main arena for headlining acts. It was always a gas because we would go to the basement, where the hash and weed was sold, and stock up for the entire tour…which normally lasted 6-9 weeks. We would run out by the time we hit Germany a week later. After that, we relied on the kindness of strangers.

Needless to say, we were stoned out of our brains when we hit the big stage that first night. Stew and Sonja would drop acid before a show. I have no idea how they did that.

One tour after the gig, our Dutch agent took the band and the main core of roadies out to dinner at a fancy restaurant.
By 1am, we were stuffed. They paid us shit but the perks that came from traveling were good.
Our British Talent Management agent, Rik, asked everyone if we wanted to go to the red-light district and get laid? Darryl and I threw our hands up without thinking. The others were chicken shit scared. Shit. We were rock stars! Rock stars aren’t afraid of STD’s. We were impenetrable.
Off we went to the red-light district.

We got out of the car and surveyed the territory. All the girls sat in tiny bay windows that were back lit with red lamps. The display of windows went on for miles along the famous canals.

Prostitution was legal. The girls were required to get checked out on some sort of timetable. Of course, that didn’t help if the guy just before you had the clap.

Rik saw a girl he liked and went in. Darryl and I waited beside the car doing deep breath exercises and deep knee bends.

He came out 5 minutes later and told us he made a deal for all three of us. $20 each.
He announced that he would go first…since he was paying for it.

I was nervous as hell as I had never paid for it…in cash, anyways.

He returned 20 minutes later with a shit eatin’ grin. He slapped us on the backs and proclaimed with pride; it was GREAT!
Darryl announced he was going next. Great. I was getting thirds. This did not make me happy.

All I could think of was a gooshy quedgie. But then these girls were pros. They wouldn’t last if they weren’t clean. Gulp.

Darryl returned 20 minutes later with that same shit eatin’ grin and bragged what a stud he was.
Now it was my turn.

I lumbered into the room. It was the size of a closet. Big enough for a single bed and a make-up table.

The girl was of Heinz 57 heritage. She was from who knows where, but she was gorgeous.
I made small talk, but she would have none of it.
“Hurry up. Get your clothes off.”
I did as she commanded.

I tried to impress her with who I was, but she said that she only liked R & B. And had no idea who Curved Air was.

She lay on the bed and was naked from the waist down. She kept her halter top on. Well, that was no fun.
She handed me a rubber.

Then she took a handful of something from a jar and slathered her quedgie with it. All I heard was this squishy sound. I was losing my enthusiasm.

She jerked on my teeny weeny a few times to get me hard. I was so scared that it wasn’t easy to get an erection but, hey, I was 24 and anything could give me a hard on.
I climbed on board missionary style, and she guided me in.

Not 30 seconds later, she said, “Can’t you cum? C’mon…cum already.”
I told her to shut up. I was concentrating.
She kept up this mantra and it was driving me nuts. Elvis had left the building.
So, I tried to take her top off. She stopped me.
“That will be another 20 Guilders.”

I didn’t have 20 Guilders on me at that very specific moment. That was around $5.00.
I couldn’t cum and I wasn’t having any fun so I began to sing Simon and Garfunkel’s “Keep the Customer Satisfied.”

She got mad and let me put my hand inside her halter top if it would make me cum faster. I made entry from the top shoving my elbow in her face.
I succeeded despite the obstacles.

As I got dressed, she told me: “You didn’t drink tonight, did you?”
I smiled and said no. I don’t drink. “Why?”
She said the other two guys obviously had a lot to drink.
I looked confused.
Then she took her index finger…made it stand up straight and then allowed it to droop.
I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

So, after all this, I was the only one to get laid. The others were too drunk. And they came out bragging about how good it was.

I sauntered out to the car with a big smile.

They looked at me and knew in an instant that their cover was blown.
They hung their heads and said nothing. I laughed.

It cost Rik $60 ($386 in 2025 dollars) for me to get laid. I thanked him.

The experience cured me of my curiosity. The idea of paying for sex was wiped clean from my bucket list. And no, I never got an STD.

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