Wrapper: Corojo-seed / Nicaragua: Namanji
Binder: Nicaragua: Estelí, Jalapa (double binder)
Filler: Nicaragua: Estelí, Jalapa, Condega
Size: Robusto (5 x 52)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (final third)
Body: Full (final third)
Price: $11.65–$12.95 USD (varies by retailer)
Factory: My Father Cigars S.A., Nicaragua
Blender: Jon Huber
Release: June 2026 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:10
You can’t fault Crowned Heads for being boring. Besides, Jon Huber might kick your ass if you suggested it.
Their 2025 rebranding still makes me giggle, though. Jon is so skater punk that seeing these elaborate, traditionally styled bands on his cigars is almost antithetical to his public image. Flat-brimmed ball caps. Tatted arms. Then you look at the Moonflower, and the presentation feels like it belongs in a glass display case.
The chocolate-brown wrapper has a light sheen of oil that gives it a subdued, matte finish. Veins run throughout the slightly mottled skin, which looks like it went through some deep fermentation.
The aromas are rather unremarkable. There’s a little hay, a little barnyard, and an indistinct sweetness along the wrapper. The foot offers more, with yeasty bread, barnyard, and a hint of dried apricot. The cold draw is equally uneventful, giving me some shortbread and a slight herbaceousness. The draw is perfect, though.
It’s funny, but I’ve fallen into the same trap as many reviewers by doing a thorough prelight inspection. Lately, I’ve been wondering how much of it is necessary. Unless there’s something dreadfully wrong with the draw or the cigar has obvious visual construction issues, I’ll probably keep that part as short as possible going forward. I’m not knocking reviewers who write elaborate descriptions of every vein and seam, but what the fuck does all that have to do with the smoke?
Besides, I just want to get to smoking the fuckin’ thing.
The Moonflower comes out swinging with coffee, malt, cedar, baking spices and a touch of black pepper. Classic Corojo spice enters a few puffs later and lifts the entire profile. The start is rich, and the body is immediately creamy, yet there’s a lightness to everything that makes me a little giddy.
That might be the cigar. It might also be the lack of sleep after spending the last two days trying unsuccessfully to leave College Station, TX.
I’ve been here since last Wednesday to visit my son and attend the Texas A&M game. My youngest son flew in as well, and we had a grand time. I was supposed to leave Sunday, but thunderstorms hit DFW and delayed the first leg long enough that I would miss my connection and be stuck until early the next morning. I returned to my son’s apartment and tried again yesterday.
Everything looked good until we boarded. One weather delay became another, and by then I was definitely going to miss my connection. The pilot let us deplane, and once I was back in the terminal, I checked FlightAware and discovered that the FAA had essentially put DFW under a full ground hold. I rebooked for today.
At least I got another evening with my boys.
Hopefully, I’ll get out this time.
By the one-inch mark, I’m already thinking that Jon Huber hit this one out of the park. He hyped the hell out of the Moonflower before its release, and once it arrived, finding an online retailer with stock wasn’t easy. I managed to procure a few from a local College Station lounge last week.
Lightly roasted cacao has joined the profile, along with roasted peanut, cashew, and a touch of white pepper. The Corojo spice keeps appearing and disappearing, playing peek-a-boo with me like I’m getting flashed at a gig.
While I’m not a musician of Katman’s caliber, I’ve been gigging locally for more than 40 years. Until just before the pandemic lockdown, I spent a long stretch doing solo acoustic gigs. When I played, I used the Steve Cropper method: play to the prettiest girl in the room.
Once I started doing that, I would get flashed, top and bottom. I never meant to pick anyone up. I’m a modest and very married man. It never ceased to amaze me, though. I won’t go into detail, but I’ve seen all manner of breast shapes and sizes and levels of, ahem, shaving and trimming.
As the first third ends, the cacao steps forward and brings a brown sugar-like sweetness. Combined with the cream, it tastes like Swiss Miss hot chocolate with marshmallows.
This is pretty fucking delicious.
Then bakery goods arrive with aplomb. Cinnamon roll, sweet yeasty bread, oatmeal cookie, and shortbread pile onto an already rich profile. The cigar is so good that I’m tempted to abandon the review, sit back and enjoy it. But I have nothing better to do than sit around my son’s apartment, so I march forward.
I hadn’t planned to review the cigar until I got home, but I have several hours to kill before my flight. So here I am, coffee in hand, using my son’s cooler as a table.
I often talk about a cigar having a core or main theme. I haven’t mentioned it yet, but the Moonflower centers on coffee, cedar, cream, malt, and cacao. How many times have we seen that combination?
What makes each cigar different is the balance and proportion of those elements. Here, the coffee and malt dominate, while the cedar and cacao provide support. The cream wraps around everything and gives the cigar its richness.
I reach the halfway mark at about 40 minutes and keep thinking that the Moonflower has lived up to the hype. I’m also loving the fact that there has been nary a hint of nicotine. It’s so light that I barely notice it. Strength is a solid medium, and I love that moderation because it gives the profile room to express itself.
Burnt toffee arrives with cardamom, clove, nutmeg and a touch of bay leaf.
The Moonflower has officially reached flavor-bomb status.
The interesting thing is that it reminds me of a Jackson Pollock painting. Flavors seem to have been thrown all over the canvas. There’s no real movement, yet the profile feels completely alive.
By the final third, I’m doing a happy dance. The body is full, thick, and luxuriously creamy. Strength edges toward medium-plus, and the spice keeps flashing me.
Exotic woods arrive. Charred cedar, teak and rattan. I’ve used this comparison before, but it’s like walking into the furniture section of a Cost Plus store.
The core begins to compress and assert itself, yet everything remains incredibly articulate. That’s one of the most remarkable things about this smoke. It’s exceptionally well-balanced. There isn’t a sharp edge anywhere. Everyone is playing nice in the sandbox.
Again, I keep thinking about how thoroughly the Moonflower has lived up to Jon’s hype. It better have. The cigar is a tribute to his relationship with his wife. I loved that story when I first heard him tell it, although part of me wondered whether it belonged to the hype machine surrounding the release. If this cigar is his tribute to his wife and their marriage, it’s a great one.
The earlier Pollock comparison was more appropriate than I initially realized. I feel as if I’m scanning the canvas, and wherever my gaze rests, another flavor resolves. Baking spices. Exotic wood. Dark fruit I hadn’t noticed before. Black pepper. Roasted nuts.
They’re all sitting there in organized chaos.
I love it.
As I get near the end, the entire profile compresses. Everything is pulled closer together, but each element remains articulate. At the same time, I can’t get over the feeling of fluidity. It’s like being under the influence of psilocybin. Everything is in stark relief yet somehow fluid at the same time.
Amazingly, the nicotine remains well-behaved even as the pressure from the profile builds.
At the last inch, I can’t get Luciano Pavarotti singing Caruso out of my head. It’s actually a pop song, but the way Il Maestro sings, it carries so much emotion.
This cigar is making me emotional.
Yeah, Jon. This is a great tribute to your wife.
I pull up the Caruso video and let it play in the background as I continue writing. Being stuck here in College Station makes me think about my wife and our eight children. I can feel the tears welling up inside.
I want to get home.
The video ends, and Chicago appears next, playing 25 or 6 to 4. Terry Kath was a total guitar god who died far too young. I loved Chicago, but they lost their edginess after he died.
The melancholy breaks. I start rocking to the song as I finish the cigar.
RATING: 98
Katman here: Say what you will about 70’s classic rock, there was a raw appeal that modern era music rarely has. In the 70’s, Chicago was a badass horn band. But 20 years later, they became schlockmeisters with their greatest hits tours leading them to become a Vegas ghost of themselves. I watched this Chicago video and was wowed…just blown away. Guitarist Terry Kath died nearly 50 years. At 31, he accidentally blew his brains out screwing around with a pistol. His mastery of guitar riffs is unworldly. He would have become a major talent for the ages if he hadn’t been stupid about drugs, alcohol, and guns. Watch this video. Kath rivaled Hendrix.
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Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
Great review! I’ve been waiting to try this since a buddy who went to PCA came back and raved about it. Any chance you know where it’s available?
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Check out Atlantic cigar. They only have the Corona Gorda available, but that one seems to be the reference vitola, or at least the one Jon Huber was smoking when he was hyping up the blend.
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