Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf Rosado
Binder: Honduran
Filler: Honduran Corojo and Criollo
Size: 5.25 x 52 Robusto ~ Box Pressed
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $11.00
Date Released: July 2025
Quantity Released: Regular Production
Factory: My Father Cigars, Honduras

My cigars received 4 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
There is not a single reviewer on the planet that has not reviewed the Blue. Except me. I will have zero impact. I will not sway anybody. Everyone’s minds are made up. Either you like the blend or you do not. Most give this cigar a thumbs up. But the ones that did not go ga-ga over the cigar used the Gordo for their test subject. I rest my case. I rest my wooden leg. And one other thing, every review found very different flavors. That’s just radio ga-ga.

The stick is light and I don’t like it. I need to feel some heft in my hand to offset the sinking feeling that my wienermobile needs a counterbalance. But my hopes are that it will plump like a Dodger Dog once lit. There is enough billboard advertising on this 5-1/4” cigar to cover 57% of the wrapper. I have a slide rule and a child’s thermometer.

I proceed to disrobe the cigar. And the secondary band removes a Ha’Penny sized piece of wrapper. And of course, it’s my last Blue. Do I panic? Yeah, sure. I’ve already taken a cigar photo, I’ve prepped the review, and I have the mindset to proceed. I grab Dr. Kurthy’s magic PerfecRepair and lightly give the errant hole a glistening dab. On the advice of my betters, I was given instructions on how to make my own cigar repair glue. After spending $35, I failed, over and over, to get the proportions of distilled water v. powder correct. I gave up. For $10, The Rod Bod gives you a bottle of glue that lasts 6 months. P.S. Everything in my life is covered in unmovable cigar ash as you can see on my computer keyboard in the photo above. I go through an industrial amount of Swiffers.

The repair glue is without aroma, so it doesn’t impede my ability to find notes of cedar, rare earth, baking spices, chocolate, and dried apricot.

The cold draw is finer than baby seal hair. My initial urge is to bat the cigar to death, but I remember I’m on statins. Dried figs, chocolate, orange peel, damp earth, and black pepper. It’s beginning to look a lot like Passover.

Several surveys have shown that people older than 18 and younger than 18 smoke cigars. That same survey showed that RFK Jr. is not a giant raccoon penis in disguise.

I’ve wasted enough of your valuable time, goodbye. OK, for the rest of you that are still here and can’t control your bowels, I will proceed with the ritualistic burning of the bush.

Spicy start. With elevated notes of cedar. A frootsie tootsie flavor sends signals to my decaying brain. But it is negligible for entertaining a clear idea of what those tootsies are. If any of you would like to exit this review, please leave a dollar next to my open casket before you retreat. And don’t spit.

I wrote this review yesterday. Er, no wait…I, yes, that’s correct. I wrote it yesterday and I’m publishing it today. Wait…then I need to stop typing. Fuck. I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing bath salts.

Early impressions are that the blend is a generic flavor experience. There’s a nice cedary bushman approach that feels squishy to the touch but let’s give the cigar some props and just say it’s warming up. It’s only the first half inch. But it burned in just a few minutes. It’s not plumping yet. And the char line ain’t that great. Oh no…

Strength is medium.

Shit, I’ve already written 1000 words and I’m not even at the end of the first third. I’ll fix it in post-production.

The first inch is done but only serves as a gentle reminder that this isn’t an expensive cigar. It really didn’t capture my attention. The burn is still wonky. The katman kurse of the box press is alive and well.

I’ve smoked a few of the Blue. In fact, I made 80% of my fiver disappear. I’m beginning to think that I am glad I didn’t buy a box based on popular opinion. Using my slide rule, I discover that one inch represents $3.67. Damn, I could have had a V8.

The flavor profile is cedar, black pepper, and benign tootsie frootsie. And I’m not crazy about the construction. The stick started light and remains light. No plumping in Hooterville. And the char line refuses to queue up.

The cigar needs some serious body for me to love it long time.

I met Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, and Sid Caesar all in one sitting. It was 1966 and I was with friends at the Farmer’s Market in Los Angeles. It was a weekday. And the place was deserted. The Market is right next to CBS Television, and it was a hangout for lunch. My four friends included two very good-looking girls who were charismatic young ladies. The hallowed comedians loved interacting with us, especially the chicks…mostly the chicks. They did constant schtick that kept us laughing and entertained. We spent an hour with them and then they had to go back to work, and we had to leave to go do teenage things. Funny thing about growing up in L.A. is that Angelenos rarely asked for autographs or photos. I would love to have had better common sense and gotten all three to write something nice for me. Instead, I got a Dear John letter from one of the girls. It worked out as I was tired of revealing to my friends her name was Frieda.

While the char line is doing better, it is far from sharp. 10 years ago, an $11 cigar was eye opening. We all agreed that price point should produce an exceptional cigar. Now, during the days of Stevie Hormuz and runaway corporate greed, the sawbuck + 1 is seen as very affordable.

The first half took 30 minutes. I miss the Plump. Nothing extraordinary happened. I was not lulled into a false, but needed, sense of postmature ejaculation. I didn’t see my dead relatives hovering above me. I only saw a cigar that must be wildly inconsistent as some love the cigar and others not so much. This is not a good purchase if you gotta roll the dice.

There’s nothing that all that terrible about the blend that sends me running into streets screaming that I hated this cigar. It’s just bland. No sharp edges, no dissonant flavors, no transitions, and no complexity.

The second half is a little better. There are flavors of gentle coffee, milky creaminess, and cedary baked goods.

One reason I can’t wait for the katman blog to die is my expenditure for review cigars is ridiculous. Sure, I can submit false travel expenditures to my bosses at the International Brotherhood of Doomed Cigar Reviewers Local 28, but they got me sussed out and, as such, are usually rejected. I can write off expenses on my taxes, but the IRS doesn’t believe that cigars cost what I tell them. Why? Because the three guys that still work for the IRS live at Mara Lago and aren’t allowed access to the internet.

I’ve begun the last third. There’s not going to be an Aha moment.

It’s an OK cigar. My first cigar upon receipt was better. The problem with this blend is a lack of consistency. It is the same major issue I’ve found with run of the mill catalog blends. Sometimes you get a winner. You let them rest, and rest, and never know if they just need more time, or worry that they will age out.

When you buy reasonably priced cigars, the quality, variety, and irregularity of the leaves is up for grabs. Plus, you’re not getting the top tier of rollers, so construction suffers. If you liked this blend, I wish I was you.

RATING: 84

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

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