Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra
Binder: Ecuadorian Habano
Filler: Dominican Criollo ’98, Nicaraguan Medio Tiempo, Estelí
Size: 6 x 52 Belicoso
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $20.00
Released: December 2022
Quantity Released: 500 Boxes of 10 Cigars
Factory: El Titan de Bronze

I bought another box 2 months ago. These babies had 15 months of box aging when I first reviewed them in March 2024. Now 12 months later, that’s right…27 months of aging. Nothing makes us happier than when cellos are yellow.
Here is my 2024 review so it may remind you what a powerhouse HVC has become.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
Anytime you throw the word ‘rare’ into the name…twice, you’re asking for it. We’re all asking for it.

The cigar screams for air. I circumcise the bastard. A sigh of relief from my PerfecDraw.

This is a nice-looking cigar. Tap your right hoof if you agree.

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. Moans of salted caramel, pretzel logic, Irish soda bread, black pepper, slight creaminess, and rich honey butter. Nice.

The burn is stupendous. Razor wire sharp. Another adventure smoking a cigar that is a double sawbuck. This shit is just nuts and there is no end in sight. If My Father and Tatuaje can charge $60 for a single cigar, what’s next…A $30 Quorum? Specially aged for 13 weeks?
I tend to sound off too much. But aren’t you with me on this one? How does the avid cigar smoker on a budget get by. At one time, a special treat cost $11. Now it’s double or triple that.

I have specific expectations from a $20 cigar. So far, this Rare of Rare of Rare is doing well under the microscope. An expensive cigar must be compared to its equals in price territory. A Padron, a Casdagli, an OpusX, a Byron, a Zino, or a Cohiba Behike 56.

Despite the chocolate influence, this is mostly a savory blend…which is OK. The near year and a half box aging is serving this delicacy well. Very rich. Complex notes are in line taking names. The finish is the star. I’m lapping and licking my lips to soak up the gravy of the cigar’s aftertaste like an ape in an aviary.

The burn gets a bit wonky. Humidification error.

Strength started at medium but at only 1” burned, we are bordering on full tilt. Uh oh.

The Rare of Rare is knocking it home. Supremely rich. Super-duper complex. That’s technical cigar jargon we learn at cigar sommelier school.

The $60 My Father La Union wishes it was this good. Bam.

With only 5,000 cigars released in December 2022, I have no idea why these cigars are still available. And the cigar goes out. I gotta stop talking while I write. But then you go straight for the score bypassing the good stuff…Which by all accounts gives me license to write whatever I please since no one is listening.

I crawl from the wreckage at the halfway point. Well over an hour. The cigar is so beautifully constructed that it defies you fucking it up. This is a manly cigar. If you are a manly woman, it’s good for you too. I’ve known manly women. I liked them. And they liked me.

Flavors: Salted caramel, scoche of clotted cream, German pretzel, raisins, espresso, dark chocolate, charred oak, black strap molasses, black pepper, black licorice, black walnuts, and Italian herbs. I believe the flavor wheel is exhausted.

1966. My band played at an exclusive party in the Bixby Knolls part of Long Beach. It was a freak out. Blacklights and disco balls. Lots of acid. I used my new Vox Fuzz Tone for my bass. I saved it for the 12-minute jam in the middle of ‘Gloria.’ An inopportune time to find out you have epilepsy when a strobe light is blasting away. Drooling white-eyeballed kids laying on the dance floor. Everyone kept dancing.

There is so much I don’t know about cigars. I worked at a cigar lounge during Covid. Only Republicans hung out. The only thing I accomplished was showing newbies how to twirl their cigar while lighting it.

Oh man, this is a sophisticated smoke. But the strength is bordering on Oppenheimer. I’m over under sideways down. I can see for miles and miles (mono version). Yeah, the power of this cigar is like staring at the Grand Canyon at sunset while frying on blotter. The burn to the synapses is controlled. I did peyote only once…not a big fan of projectile vomiting on the way to being spaced out. Very little nicotine from this utility vehicle.

Flavors are canonized. I love the balance of sweet v. savory. But when a strictly savory blend comes your way, and it’s done right, wow…

This might be my all-time favorite cigar from HVC. No shit. Worth every shekel of its $20 price tag ($18.00 with promo code).

Grape juice. This came out of nowhere. The last third is a mind blower. Hogwart heaven.

I’m going to kick back, take it all in, and finish the cigar in silence. Makes me happy to find a gem for you. Take it seriously, boys.

You can purchase this diminishing limited edition, with over 15 months of box time, from sponsor Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code ‘katman’). Be there or be square.

RATING: 97

Don’t want to spend $60 on three cigars?
Then spend a few bucks more and get this killer cigar in Katman’s Last Gig Sampler.
But if I were you, I’d buy both.

And now for something completely different:

Normally, Curved Air headlined in all the auditoriums and civic centers in England and Europe. But once in a while, we got to be the support act for someone grandiose.

During one of those tours we supported Emerson, Lake and Palmer for 4 gigs.

The first time we did sound check on that bill, I got a wild hair. Keith Emerson had a full-sized grand piano that was mechanically designed so it would do a 360° roll. Head over heels.

I asked Keith if I could ride the piano. He laughed and said no support band member had been stupid enough to request that. I felt honored to be the very first moron…and I climbed aboard during sound check. I guess the real reason was that no one wanted to vomit on his piano. I was a bit worried as I had a history of getting easily car sick. Only once rode the Wild Teacups at Disneyland in Anaheim and wretched my guts out.

To my horror, the only way you were secured to the piano was with your feet underneath a special bar on the bench. Nothing to hold you in place. No seat belt. No crash helmet.

The piano began to roll. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster. I grabbed the keyboard like a cat. I was completely disoriented.

Now I’m spinning like crazy and I’m thinking that not only that I would be jettisoned like a rocket into the sound system, but that my death would be reported unfavorably.

While desperately using only invisible gravity, I wondered how Keith played complex parts while spinning.

After two long minutes, the piano slowed its roll, and I was able to get off and then fell flat on my face, bruising my ego. I looked around to see if chicks were watching…only all of them.

Slurring my words, I asked Keith how in the hell he did that while playing. He laughed. He saw that my face was green and took me to the bathroom in the arena, where he helped me to a stall where I threw up.

Each day we played with them, Keith asked me, like clockwork, if I wanted to ride the piano again. All the while laughing at me. I politely declined.

I had some Cubans that Larry Coryell, the great father of jazz fusion guitar, had given me in Zurich. On the last night of playing with EL&P, I asked Keith if he would like to join me for a smoke? I was so surprised when his eyes lit up and said it was a jolly good idea…so we retired to his posh hotel room where he allowed no one else in but me.

He ordered some lavish room service, and we spent the night eating, drinking and smoking cigars. When you’re young and dumb and success hits you right between the eyes, you think you belong, and it will last forever. But I knew this was something special and very unlikely it would happen again. When we went back to headlining to only 2,000 fans, I called all my friends at home in L.A and told the story. I’m still telling it.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

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