Wrapper: Stalk-Cut USA Connecticut Habano
Binder: Brazilian Mata Fina
Filler: Honduran, Dominican, Nicaraguan
Size: 5 X 54 Robusto
Body: Medium/Full
Price: $17.00
Quantity Released: Regular Production

I originally reviewed this cigar in 2014 when I was just a kid. Time to revisit with a new critique.
My cigars received 4 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
DE emphasizes the stalk cut nature of the wrapper. This means that at time of cutting the plant, the leaf and the stalk are cut as one. And then hung to dry by the stalk. It has an impact on the color of the wrapper which gives it a dark reddish tinge. Very close to the Colorado wrapper. This is one of the most consistently beautiful wrappers on the market. While $17 ain’t cheap, boy toy Jonny Drew could be charging much more, but doesn’t.

In Spanish, Liga Privada means “Private Blend.”. The rollers designed this blend to smoke while they rolled. Drew liked it so much that it became a cigar he could market and sell. In fact, a lot of DE blends started this way. Probably frustrating the hell out of the rollers as they had to keep inventing new blends for themselves.

There are two camps. One prefers the T52 and the other the No. 9. Spoiler alert: I prefer the T52.

I fondle the wrapper like the first time I subcutaneously picked up my sister’s Barbie doll looking for natural openings. I was 27.

First aromas are deeply floral and then rich coffee, black soil, 92.5% cacao, sweet leather, and freshly baked apple pie with a soft touch of vanilla.

I pierce the toast with my faithful companion the PerfecPunch. I go big with the 11mm (7/16” middle punch). Like buttah. If not for my PP, I’d have to use the same crap mere mortals use. I am a reviewer, a pestilent non-human.

The cold draw matches with smooth notes of banana cream, clove, malted milk, dark chocolate, espresso, mixed nuts, black pepper, rich earth, cedar, and black raisins.
Damn, Gertrude…the cigar storms out of the gate and we’re off to the races with a complex list of flavors: Leather, spice, black coffee, lemony citrus, caramel, and a hint of molasses. And, I’m spent.

If I was a botanist or a cigar sommelier, I could tell you why some cigars smoke the hell out of a room and why others lay there like day old rice cakes. This baby is shielding my eyes from the computer screen. I yell for Sammy the Cat to stop chasing my gonadian region swirling at my ankles and, instead, fan me with his choice of palm fronds. He is a Maine Coon and thus obeys. He will receive a special treat for dinner in the manner of extra gefilte fish with his usual matzoh ball kibble.

How often does a cigar begin with a delicious overtone. Right? Like almost never. And with only 4 months of rest. I smoked a couple in the too early period and while they weren’t bad, they can’t compare to what I taste now. A truly refined and complex tobacco masterpiece. The semi-defined flavors aren’t out-front but, instead, are somewhat muted. We don’t want to be bothered with finding Waldo in a blend. I do this for you because it’s in my contract and in the reviewer’s union bylaws. I don’t seek out individual nuances when I’m alone in my cave, weeping uncontrollably that I have no friends and no one loves me. Wait. Did I say that out loud? I want to kick back. I want to be entertained by the burning bush. I want a good cigar to relax me and take me to someplace special away from my everyday woes and anxieties. And a cigar like the T52 is one of those keys in the song of life. Beautiful. I guess I’ve spoiled the dénouement.

The char line is very nice. The draw is spontaneously combusting like one third of the drummers I’ve known.

So, I’ve smoked one inch. What? 5400 words so far and that’s it? So sorry Uncle Albert. I’ll speed it up.

Cigar Aficionado nailed it with the following: “…notes of raisins, red wine and a molasses finish. An interesting smoke.” Am I influenced? It’s always good to get a leg up from people you trust…and even those you don’t.

It was the last time I took acid. It was my 25th birthday. 1975. London. We left the nightclub on Picadilly Circus and returned to my basement flat in the West End. There must have been 20 of us. It was all of Curved Air. All from the band Renaissance minus their singer, Annie. And a few from the band Caravan and Climax Blues Band and Wishbone Ash. It went through the night. Both Curved Air and Renaissance had big gigs the next night for the start of our 6-week headlining tours of England and Europe. Everyone was frying as the LSD was very special from the labs of UC Berkeley.

This is a distinctive cigar. What I’ve heard is that Steve Saka was behind this masterpiece. I don’t know the real truth but the taste tells no lies. And I taste Dunbarton all over my palate.

The balance of sweet v. savory is bloody outstanding. I love it when this happens. There is a wonderful woodiness made up of equal measures of oak and cedar. Matched by an extreme savory creaminess that somehow is complemented by a sweet clobber of café au lait and hot cocoa…a very complex cigar.

The apartment building was once whole. The stairs from the basement to the main house was boarded off and became a stairway to nowhere. My roommate Skip took glass milk bottles and filled them with colored water. Each step was covered with 10 bottles. He was a full-fledged Hippie with a master’s degree in molecular biology. Stewart Copeland wanted to show off. He yelled for us to watch as he ran up and down the stairs and never knocked over a single bottle.

The first half was a prelude to the finale of “2001: A Space Odyssey.” I saw the movie several times in 1968 at the Cinerama Dome on Sunset Blvd. The LSD frying Hippies always took up the first three rows. On my second outing, we all smoked weed on the way to the theater. It was great but we all got seasick from the film’s end and had to fix ourselves by eating 3 or 4 hot dogs at Pink’s on La Brea. A few of my friends puked in my VW camper bus on the way home.

Where was I? I know, I was yapping.

Strength began at medium/full. By the second inch, it was full strength. But the damn thing is so smooth that I’ve only left my body twice. And the nicotine is minimal. I’m handling it like a champ with no food in my belly.

The sweet spot wastes no time as the second half is in full swing. I checked other reviews and 99% all occurred when I wrote mine 10 years ago. Some even earlier. We’ve all come a long way since in our approach and style. I’ve been the katman for 16 years. Many others, the same. We were like children finding our way. It’s pretty cool how we’ve evolved. I can’t bear to look at my early stuff. Truth be told, I can’t bear to look at my current baloney.

The star of the show is the depth and complexity. The rich earthiness takes the cake. Transitions are marvelous. Flavors go deeper and deeper. They were canonized early but find vigor and power with each puff. I’ve smoked all manner of price points in cigars in the last year or so. Some are land grabs for your hard-earned dough. Yet they are bought up by the rich and stupid faster than you can blink. Only $17 before promo codes. So many cigars in the $20+ range that aren’t nearly as good as the T52. I won’t mention the ones in the $30+ range that are very good but just aren’t worth the dough. If you knew what it cost to produce a cigar, you’d wince like white dopes on punk.

Everyone clapped at Copeland’s magical feat. Skip was in the kitchen with Sonja Kristina. Sonja had found a lemon and decided she needed to walk it to keep it happy. Skip tagged along as he had a crush on her. I yelled at them to come see what Stew had done. They scampered over to the stairway. “Stewart!! Do it again.” With giant wide eyes, Copeland leaped into the air instead of carefully winding himself up the steps. He hung in midair like Wile E. Coyote. He stared at us while understanding he screwed up. And fell, full body into hundreds of glass bottles, crashing them everywhere. Everyone screamed in horror. Skip fell over backwards. His art project was gone. Copeland got up. Not a scratch. It was a non-bloody baby Jesus miracle.

A comparison can be made to the Padron 1926. But the T52 is a smoother blend. I love the 1926 as it is one of my favorite go to’s. But then so is this blend. I love the fact that it comes in 6 distinct sizes. Something for everyone.

I’m down to the last 2”. Nothing harsh. No bitterness. The full tilt strength is doable. And I’m having a great time. The transitions are not abrupt. They morph into each other the way you come up with excuses when the wife confronts you about your blown cigar budget.

Eventually, everyone left for their respective homes. It was hard going to sleep. When we showed up for the important roll out gig that night, we were fakakta but excited. Curved Air learned that the young guys in Renaissance had to cancel their gig because they were still too high. Their lead singer, Annie Haslam had a fit. She was a non-drug user and blamed me because it was my birthday party. She never spoke to me again.
Stewart and Sonja took another hit of acid that afternoon. Curved Air pulled off a great gig and did 5 encores. No one ever accused us of being pussies.

I’ve taken up enough of your valuable time. I know you have busy schedules. And I’m intruding on your timeline. The Liga Privada T52 is a great cigar. After promo codes, it is around $16. A no brainer.

You can purchase the Liga Privada T52 from sponsor Luxury Cigar Club. Take 15% off with promo code KATMAN15.

You can also purchase the Liga Privada T52 from sponsor Cigar Page.

RATING: 97

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: cigar page. luxury cigar club, cigar reviews, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, katman, liga privada, Liga Privada T52 2025 | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, phil kohn