Wrapper: Ecuadorian Connecticut
Binder: Dominican
Filler: Dominican
Size: 5.6 x 54
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $35.99
BACKGROUND:
“Alexander Kraft is a German-born, Paris-based entrepreneur best known in the luxury world for his tenure as chairman and CEO of Sotheby’s France and his senior roles at Christie’s International Real Estate. He later founded Engel & Völkers’ Paris operation and built one of the most recognized luxury property brands in Europe. His entry into premium cigars follows the same philosophy that governs his professional life: meticulous attention to provenance, limited production, and an unwillingness to compromise quality for volume.
“EGM is not a vanity project. The cigars reflect a genuine engagement with Dominican tobacco at the highest production level — which is why the brand has found its audience among collectors and connoisseurs rather than general retail customers. The Alexander Kraft line is made by Chaveta North America.
“The cigar bands feature the charming Alexander Kraft Selection Cigar logo paying homage to Mr. Kraft‘s late dog on the lid of the box, making them a true collector‘s item.”
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
$36 for a cigar doesn’t exactly seem bargain basement. More like the penthouse. But not every special that Cigar Page and I bring you is going to be a $6 stick…what’s the fun in that? Sure, only a few of you will find this interesting and the rest will find it an insult to your intelligence and pocketbook. I got two sticks during a CP Page Plus special of samplers. It was a loss leader kind of deal, and I probably paid half price. The price for the sampler without the Page Plus membership is $52.19. With the membership, $43.80.
I delicately hold the cigar like a brand-new penis in training. It’s shiny, rotund, and has a funny looking end piece…called a fantail.
Smell-O-Vision is years away and I’ll be long dead (I have made an appointment with the great Cosmic Muffin to give up the ghost in a simultaneous endoscopy, colonoscopy, and root canal.) The wrapper smells like heaven: floral, honey, burnt and salted caramel, pepitas, mild red pepper, and café au lait. Heaven.
The very delicate fantail must have ended somewhere up my nose during the sniffing process. I was planning to show off the PerfecPunch and now the only way is to show this photo instead:
The cold draw is spicy good: cloves, peppermint, cinnamon, and white pepper. And then as the clown car slows down: lemon, gingersnaps, creamy buttermilk, creamed coffee, and sourdough. That’s a lot.
The leaf stats intimate a medium strength cigar but the manufacturer says no. It is nearly full tilt. The blonde skirt must be a fool’s errand for a normal (not you) smoker’s experience. It begins with mild/medium strength
Construction is excellent. A sharp char line. A smooth draw. And a hey nonny nonny, and a hoo, haw, haw.
I sense that the ash is fragile, so I tap. It is structurally sound and waiting for the right time to eject on my exposed lap. Yes, I review naked. For $5.00, photos are available and I’ll throw in a pair of yarmulkes I once wore to Nazi rally in Skokie.
The startup flavors are very Ecuadorian Connecticut-ish: Creamy, sweet lemon, vanilla, almonds, and white pepper. Nothing screams $36. I found zero info on the aging of the tobacco so one must assume that it has received minimal time in the barn.
It was the expectation of every audience member in the 70’s to be forced to listen to an overture, chosen by the band, for every concert they attended. Curved Air was guilty of the same thing. I have zero memories of what we chose because I was mostly stoned on hash.
But I remember this vividly…1975. Darryl Way found a recording of “The Last Blast of The Blasted Bugler.” It was a 1962 spoof of Rudyard Kipling’s Gunga Din’s last moments as he bravely blows his horn to signal the troops. In this three-and-a-half-minute audio, Gunda Din gets shot hundreds of times and as such, his ability to blow that horn diminishes in a funny manner. The band thought it hilarious and couldn’t wait for the audience’s reaction. This was the heyday of Monty Python, and the bit was in line. The rowdy audience quieted. They listened. It became silent. We waited for the laughter.
And we waited. And we waited. Bupkis. Nada. Shit. Fuck. Three and a half minutes is not long unless you are dying like Gunga Din. Instead of uproars as we took the stage, there was hatred in their eyes. Way insisted we do it again the next night. Crickets. Thank God there wasn’t a music critic in the house.
For the sake of brevity, I skip ahead. In public, I bobble.
The second inch is much better. A lot better. I chalk off that chunky $6 overture. With some nice humi age, it will be $2.32.
Strength amps up decisively. My vision becomes narrow and my political nature diminishes. My ability to throw cows is enhanced. And my bowel movements are genuine.
It’s a bready smoke. Very Dominican. Each flavor demonsotracised earlier is in force. Just intenser. I’m writing like this because a New York Times editor may hire me. I want to impress.
When I think of blends with potency, I think black souls. Dark wrappers and dark fillers. This may be a sales tactic for Alexander Kraft to fool the rich patrons of Sotheby’s who probably only smoke light in the waistband cigars. By the time the rich guys have downed their third Louis XIII de Remy Martin, they don’t attribute the inability to stand quickly, to the cigar. Meanwhile, ka ching.
Before that, in 1973, friends and I had press pass tickets for Jethro Tull at the Los Angeles Coliseum. The police chief decided to hammer down on the long hairs and their blatant use of marijuana at concerts. To do this, he inserted hundreds of plain clothes cops into the crowd. Plain clothes guys who had crew cuts, no necks, and Sonny Bono vests. Everyone knew them at first sight. Well, not all of them. And those oblivious few got the shit beat out of them. The moment my peeps entered the press box, we determined we were not welcome. So, in a huff of smoke and some free buffet, we left and just sat next to the press box at the top of the Coliseum. We could see the box had ten cops with binoculars and radios directing the Sonny Bono clones. But as we sat there, and there were a couple fire chief’s feet away, we lit up. No one seemed to notice. It was like being there and not being there. But the vibe was not fun, so we used our backstage passes and hung with Tull. Flash ahead two years and I played bass in a band that was the support act for Tull a few times. It was actually worse dealing with an anti-drug Ian Anderson than it was all the cops in L.A. What a tool.
This is a grownup cigar. Definitely complex, rich, and exotic. I toss that first $6 to the peasants that clamor around my balcony while rearing my head back and bellowing: “Oh people of the realm. The harvest is ripe; the fields are full. Go forth. Find the Grail. And never quote Python without a written agreement. Fuck you very much.”
This cigar is bone fucking great. The start of the second half is killer. Holy shit fuck. Holy moly. Manny Mota! Holy crap.
How much does Cigar Page discount this cigar? Scroll, my babies, scroll.
Transitions usually come with several months of rest. I say that as a precursor because there aren’t a lot of transitions in the flavor profile. Instead, the slack is made up by the sheer complexity of the institutery of said flavors and the thickly spread richness. This is by all accounts a great Cuban cigar. It is reminiscent of Quai d’Orsay and Romeo y Julieta Wide Churchill.
Here’s the difference: Cubans can take years to prove worthy. This cigar, while pretty much at the same price point, will take months, not years. I’m getting some delish after a week.
Flavors of graham cracker, candied lemon, caramel, malt, baked bread, café au lait, white pepper, and white chocolate. Wow. Great cigar.
I take my first sip of water. Dandelion stew. Wait, er…was that water? Nope. It was an artichoke-based apéritif called Cynar that I get from Amazon Bulgaria. The drinks are reasonable but the shipping is nuts.
I fucking love this cigar. Damn near perfect. While the strength is definitely medium/full, there seems to be only a trace of anything approaching ligero. So, no spins.
You can get this cigar at a discount of 36% at Krazy Katman’s Bargain Basement. Two sizes are available and both in five packs: Robusto (4.7 x 50) $19.20 per cigar and Churchill (6.5 x 56) $25.00 per cigar. Definitely not cheap, but certainly affordable compared to $36 per stick.
GO TO KRAZY KATMAN’S BARGAIN BASEMENT HERE.
RATING: 98 ~ Damn fine cigar.
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