Wrapper: U.S. Connecticut Broadleaf
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 5 x 48 Robusto
Strength: Full
Price: $10.00
Released: April 2024
Quantity Released: Regular Production
Factory: Nicaragua American Cigars S.A.

My cigars received 4 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
This cigar made it to several top 25 lists in 2024.

The new size was released this week. It is a larger Robusto coming in at 5 x 52. In Mrs. Broaddus’s class, I might raise my hand and say its girth increased by 4/64” or 2/32” or in layman’s terms: 1/16”Ø larger than the 5 x 48. Using my slide rule, I calculate this as an increased weight of 2.35lbs per sq. inch. Ta-da.

Another important note: Despite this cigar clocking in at 17lbs more than the 5 x 48, it is less than a buck more.

Nose to wrapper. Smells like victory. Deep chocolate notes with side steps of rich earthiness, strong black coffee, garden fresh bell peppers, obligatory baking spices, and slight barnyard.

It’s not a great looking stick. But it’s not funky either. It’s ordinariness hides something. But then you’ve probably smoked one or two. So, I’m preaching to the choir. It can be exciting about reviewing something new to market…and there is something relaxing about critiquing a cigar that’s already been accepted by the grand masses. I’ll make this quick.

The PerfecPunch sees its mark and flourishes with its cape. It stabs the beast in the eye. A perfect blowhole. I sip like a kid enjoying a Slushie for the first time. Deep rich notes of mocha java, creamy caramel, burnt oak, bright mint, licorice, thyme, raspberry, and black pepper. And that was just the Suck-O-Rama portion.

The tasty portion of this review begins with the cold draw and the wrapper’s aromas being transferred to this smoky palate. Chocolate pudding, caramel, espresso, berries, wood eye, black pepper and the stuff that manicurists drink.

The first half inch is screaming laughter. Like a dozen blasting caps in my mouth, it raises the roof and wakes my palate to receive mode. Yes, I spent 8 years on D Block in Quentin. My music background is a hoax.

It’s the High Holidays and the coffee tables are strewn with marbled chocolate/vanilla halvah, chocolate covered raspberry and orange jells, a bit of hashish here and there, maybe some creamy hummus, and the all-important chopped apples and walnuts in honey. Damn straight this is what the Bronzeback reminds me of. I’m done. Thank you for your patronage. Please leave an 18% tip in the ashtray along with your name and phone number and I’ll get back to you.

Imagine rubbing oiled leather on your semi-retired nipples and the excitement reached in totem when the cigar is lit. Imagine it’s a Bronzeback. Imagine. I was released from Quentin on a work furlough…I was too odd to be kept indoors.

You are going to read other reviewers claiming chocolate, espresso, caramel, fruit, black pepper, citrus, and licorice. But none of them will tell you that smoking this fine blend gives me a boner-this-big. True dat. Love me do.

1972. The boys in the band did me a solid. The day my divorce was final, we had a gig at Marine Corp Air Station El Toro. They got me a girl. She went home with me to soothe my savage breast. She had webbed toes. I’m scarred for life but wonder if we had married; would the baby ducks be brought up Jewish or Episcopalian? My head shakes slowly. If I do it fast, I lose appropriate behaviour.

This cigar puts me in a favorable mood. I’m doing the duck walk. You don’t have to let these babies stroll the halls of your humidor endlessly. I smoke em if I got ‘em. Quack.

So rich. So refined. How often does this happen with a $10 stick? Almost never…unless it’s a Stulac cigar. I love Steve Saka. Does he love me back? I sent him a dozen duck eggs for Easter and he sent me immigration police.

This thing is built like a tank. Construction is perfect. The air depreciation modality is equal to a thousand ducks in formation and hunters without a desperate need. McLovin.

I keep these cigars stacked in my woodshed stacked like…er, wood. I don’t have a woodshed, but it’s how I write. Straight up. If you must fill the void from your parents not loving you, buy everything in the Dunbarton catalog. The man never fails us.

OK, where was I? Devilish eggs with chocolate. The fruitiness dips itself into the imaginary espresso with plain ducknuts on toast. The cinnamon replaces the black pepper with that old fashioned spicy toothpicks. In the 1950’s, when we had no money for candy, we ponied up for the little wax paper envelope that held a dozen hot cinnamon toothpicks for only 5¢. They now run $32.

Strength began at medium/full. Not screwing around here. The first half ends after 45 minutes. Surprised you, huh. This little robusto will be a 90-minute smoke. It’s small size is deceiving. I look forward to fattening my stash of Bronzebacks with the new 5 x 52. It will easily be a two-hour smoke.

As the second half begins, strength is upped to capo de tutti de capo. I stare at this little truncheon. It averts its tiny eyes. I bellow in Esperanto: “Hey, buddy! Are you going to knock the pegs out from under me?” It makes a tiny duckling noise in Gaelic French, “Yes sir. May I have another squirt of your tanning lotion? It goes down well with my aspirantos when I have a bad headache.” Such insolence.

Damn cigar is toasting my unwebbed toes. Strength is a killing season but I don’t care. I’ve eaten and nothing can take me down. A perfect after dinner smoke. The flavors burst through the detritus afterburner of food. How does he do that?

If you’re still reading this and haven’t snagged some, well…you are no reader of mine. I can write whatever I please because no one reads cigar reviews. We hit the title and scroll to the rating. See men, this is what happens when you take your readership for granted. You can’t survive by friends and industry folk alone.

This ain’t no flavor bomb. It is a complex, transitional, sublime, and a borderline insane, cigar blend. This might be my desert isle cigar because I never get tired of its refined lifespan and the retired lifespan of my ever-shrinking wallet. I know, I know, it’s Biden’s fault.

I forgot to mention something rock n roll. Here goes…after our third tryst, Sonja told me I could do anything. And with a big twinkle in her eye, she repeated: “Anything.” I couldn’t think of anything else. But since I was young, I faked it by tap dancing while whistling God Save the Queen. It sufficed. I found out later that she wanted me to gargle her G-string. By the time I found this out, she had moved on from me and was torturing her future husband…the drummer in Curved Air.

The last 1’-1/2” is as smooth and corpulent as a baby seal. Miles Copeland made his subjects spend the weekends in Newfoundland clubbing the dears while wearing short pants. I discovered years later that he had a serious vitamin deficiency that made him subjugate his clients. Sometimes, Stewart and I would take turns feeding Miles cheese and rubbing his forehead. I watched enough Stooges to know how it was done.

Are you still reading this? Damn men, buy as many as your wife allows…or even better, more than what she thinks she allows. Your kids don’t need to go to college. A lot of money can be made as desperadoes of the open plains.

I could go on and on…so, I will. If I had Dr. Rod’s money, I’d buy as many Dunbartons as the local statutes allow. According to the bylaws of Milwaukee, one can purchase cigars until you’re orange in the face.

On tour, Sonja once wore a vibrator for breakfast at the hotel. She sat there with a Cheshire Cat smile contributing nothing to the conversation. Stewart stood up and shushed the entire room. He bent down slowly until he unmasked the whirring noise. The patrons applauded. Sonja stood up to take a bow and there was a clunk on the floor. This was just the start of the day. Imagine the fun that followed.

It’s a nubber. I retract my PerfecDraw from the not so clandestine place behind the Brillo pads. I insert it. Not a sound. My PD tool learns. It learns. There are no fish rewards if it screams during the melee.

I think it is a great everyday cigar. It is consistent. If you want the Deluxe Dunbarton Experience for dollars less, this is the perfect cigar. Reliability is everything and Steve Saka is a master.

Final note and binding last testament: I reviewed this cigar after a full dinner. I smoke ‘em in the morning because I love this cigar but at the same time, it kicks my arse to the curb without remorse. A cigar blend can have feelings. Go ahead…speak poorly to your next cigar and watch what happens.

You can purchase the Umbagog Bronzeback (2 sizes) from sponsor Small Batch Cigar. Take 10% off with promo code KATMAN.

RATING: 97

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: cigar reviews, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, dunbarton tobacco & trust cigars, Dunbarton Umbagog Bronzeback | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, katman, phil kohn