Wrapper: USA Connecticut Broadleaf
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 5 x 58 Perfecto
Strength: Full
Price: $15.00
Date Released: May 2025
Quantity Released: 1500 boxes of 10
Factory: AJ Fernandez San Lotano, Ocotal, Nicaragua

My cigars received 5 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
The La Bomba series is a cash cow for Erik Espinosa. It vacillates between a regular production line and the very limited releases each year. My first review of this cigar occurred in 2013. Espinosa sent me pre-release samples from his own stash. That’s how white bread I was back then. I didn’t criticize the industry and so everyone was nice to me. Not so much anymore.

The early releases had a warning sticker on the boxes telling the smoker that the strength of the blend was a killer. We’ve since become used to powerful cigars thanks mostly to AJ Fernandez.

Now, I have trouble keeping track of all the La Bomba releases. And being the schmuck I am, I bought three different blends because of the cool cigar boxes. I have no idea what to do with them as my man cave is the size of a WWII water closet in London’s Brixton Prison.

First, the blend needs extensive home detention. On receipt, the cigar tastes like dark air. So, I allowed them to rest….and rest.

I may be dyslexic as once the cigar band is removed; I forget which end to clip and which end to light. And since placing the cigar band at the foot is de rigueur for the blend, I’ve only fucked up a couple times, but thankfully the shape is forgiving.

Schnoz to wrapper produces sweet aromas that include raisins dunked in fertilizer, dark chocolate, earthiness redolent of fresh peat, freshly brewed coffee, a touch of light floral, fried jalapeno, and leather underwear.

I use my trusty guillotine cutter on both the cap and the foot. The cold draw provides a cool mustiness, dark chocolate, black pepper, teriyaki sauce, fried almonds, and espresso.

The first puffs are AJ central with notes of cocoa, sweet dried fruit, espresso, almonds, black pepper, and a kick in the ass warning me to go buy a sling for said patootie. Holding back a few months cured the cigar from its unpleasant paleness. As I found no info on the aging process, I must assume that a minimalist approach was used.

Perfectos are notorious for burn issues. It is unlikely that the very top tier of rollers is used. My samples started with some wonkiness but self-corrected. This one is a bit fakakta but I shall be patient.

The first gig I did with Curved Air was at a sizeable arena in London. The lauded original members in the band were barely civil during the week of rehearsal two weeks prior to the first concert. The tour wasn’t designed to bring joy to their fans, but to resolve tax issues with the British government. A live album was to be recorded over two gigs. Their original manager, Clive Davis, apparently steered them in the wrong direction and now the band had to pay for his mistakes. Rehearsals lasted 4 hours per day of which only 20 minutes were delegated to playing the setlist. The rest of the time was meeting and greeting guests, drinking tea, knocking back pints of beer, and ignoring the panic on my face. Not only did I not know the music, but I also had no idea who Curved Air was.

The blend begins with a lovely and even balance of sweet v. savory. Some depth is applied and I begin to sense layers of earthiness intertwined with mocha java and fruit. The char line self corrects as predicted earlier.

When patience wins, I damn my eyes that I wasted two or three cigars to the gods of impulsiveness. With only half an inch sacrificed, the blend is shape shifting into that fleeting desire we call cigar smoking.

I had a lot of catching up to do. I assumed our first gig would be in some seedy club in the dregs of South London. I prepped myself with my own handwritten charts to be used as cheat sheets while we played. I figured I’d learn the songs on the run. I have this scene pitted in my brain as we drove up to this huge venue and then waves of anxiety set in. “What are doing here? What’s going on? Where are we? What are we doing here? What’s this place?” I had no fucking idea. I watched as the roadies prepped. I dragged my fakakta music stand and messy array of charts onto the huge stage facing thousands of seats. As I was hyperventilating, Curved Air’s co-founder Darryl Way told me there aren’t music stands in rock n roll. I knew that and felt like slapping the shit out of him for not clueing me in beforehand. I put the music sheets on top of my amp hoping I might get a peak as needed, but then another hand to the forehead as I saw that I’d be standing 10 feet in front of the drummer while the band was spaced in rock star formation. I winged it.

I like this dark little suppository. I am writing this review on a stomach full of dinner and still, the flavor profile is cutting through the detritus beautifully. The spectrum fills my mouth with march madness. Meanwhile, the planet is in chaos.

Strength began at medium/full. As inch two reassesses my syncope, full bore is attained. I double check that my Depends are aligned with the Universe and that I’m wearing my skydiving helmet.

I can’t decide if the blend has panache of ganache. I vote for both. At the moment, the cigar is leaning towards Nic puro rather than the Nic guts with the parting gift of a Connie Broadleaf at the helm. The guts slightly overwhelm the subtle nature of the wrapper. Most La Bomba incarnations don’t use this wrapper, but the 2013 version did. It is more of a flavor inducer than an influencer.

The flavor profile shifts as my palate picks up pancakes with maple syrup and chocolate shavings. Currently, I’m not hungry so this must be real rather than longing.

I take my first sip of water. A flood of earthy powdered cocoa hits the roof of my mouth. The fruitiness dissipates but the nuttiness increases. This is the first notable transition. The blend isn’t deeply complex but it has a winning smile. The natural thing to do is to compare the Warhead VI to a Padron. But it’s more a cross between Stulac’s Blue Lightning Sky and an Umbagog Bronzeback. With a hint of Plasencia’s Alma Fuerte.

This was the first time I had played to more than a couple hundred people. In preparation for the concert tour, I spent time with a children’s record player in my London flat learning the tunes. Two of the scheduled songs had long improvisations. The band never jammed with me. I had no familiarity with their styles other than it was a strict prog rock band. Their backgrounds were from hallowed university classical approaches. I was hired because I played da funk. I had nothing in common with the people that hired me. This did not help calm my savage breast.

The first half was fun. Not earth shattering but everything I expect from a $15 cigar.

My previous sticks proved to be consistent. The first half was better than decent, but it was the second half that garnered attention from the voices in my head.

The Connecticut Broadleaf wrapper finally clocks in. It goes from catcher in the rye to hedge fund manager. This move enhanced my earlier impressions on previous sticks. Like you, I don’t dissect the hell out of a cigar during casual smokes. But when you are paying me handsomely, as you all do, I take notice.

Fortunately, co-founder Francis Monkman was a kind man. He took pity on me and helped me through some tough spots on stage. Francis enjoyed jamming on the guitar even though his main instruments were the harpsichord and keyboards. Drummer Florian Pilkington-Miksa was a sweetheart of a man. He actually made himself available for a couple one on one rehearsals with me prior to the tour. We just jammed like two crazy men so it was fun and I was grateful for the exercise. I had no idea that his mom was the richest woman in Britain second only to the Queen. She was heir to the Pilkington Glass fortune. While the band smoked hashish, Flo’s drug of choice was Valium. Imagine a flamboyant Etonian accent slowed down to half speed. Like Copeland said, he was a great hang. Sadly, Florian passed in 2021 and Francis passed in 2023. Two other past members have left the planet as well. I recently discovered that Curved Air is packing it in this year. While members have rotated over the last 55 years, singer Sonja Kristina has been the constant. Without her, there is no band. I’m sure that its coincidental that I too am calling it quits at the end of 2026.

Construction of the Warhead VI is excellent. A nice slow roll. A sharp burn line. And the cigar stays lit no matter how many pee breaks I take.

I’m down to the last 1-1/2”. The flavor profile doesn’t take sophistication to discern. The list of variables is small. The pleasant factor is its key to the city. Despite the strength being a wall banger, nicotine is minimal. I still have most of my faculties so I untie my Depends to make sure I’m okie dokie.

I grab my PerfecDraw and use it as a nubbing tool. The Warhead VI demands I suck the last vestige of a good time.

I doubt that at this time you can find this cigar but Espinosa pumps out new iterations of this blend constantly. My recommendation is next time you see a Warhead, get yourself at least a fiver. Buying the ten count gets you a prize at the bottom of the cereal box.

RATING: 94

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: 601 La Bomba Warhead VI | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, cigar reviews, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, erik espinosa, katman, phil kohn