Wrapper: Ecuadorian
Binder: Dominican
Filler: Dominican Cuban seed
Size: Robusto (5 x 50)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (fluctuates during the second half)
Body: Medium-Plus → Full (second half)
Price: $8 single / $40 5-pack / $80 box of 10 (Sir Louis Cigars; currently sold out, but on order to restock)
Factory: El Maestro, Dominican Republic
Blender: William Ventura
Release: Not verified
Smoking Time: 1 hour, 25 minutes
Experience Rating: 97
I wanted today’s smoking theme to be well-aged cigars, so I opened my long-term aging tupper and pulled out my last Steel Horse Corojo Robusto. It now has 18 months of age on it. Combined with at least three months of post-roll aging, this stick has close to two years of añejamiento. It was always a tasty treat, but I was anticipating a transformative experience.
I also pulled out the Eladio Experience from my Privada Rare Finds, with four years of aging, and a beloved Montecristo 2000 LE Nicaragua that is now 26 years old. I think this decision came from a conversation I had with my wife yesterday about being a grandparent. Today was going to be Grandpa Day.
The Steel Horse has gorgeous skin with small veins, shiny with oils and toothy to the touch. Rolling it between my fingers in the sunlight reveals a crystalline glitter. Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to capture it on camera, but the glimmer is amazing.
The aromas are totally unremarkable: light barnyard on the wrapper, with a slight fruity sweetness and dry grass on the foot. The cold draw is much more expressive, delivering nutmeg, cinnamon, and the faintest bit of clove. It’s very open, with just a little resistance.
I light it up and… Oh. My. God. What a creamy start. Lemon crème, specifically. Medium-roast coffee follows, along with baking spices and a mineral bite on the finish. Between puffs, a gorgeous sweet red bell pepper develops. Nicotine enters right away, putting strength at medium. Body sits just a tick above medium, but the whole opening is thematically creamy.
As I get into the first inch, a light spice starts bouncing between the top of my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Energy. Coffee and cream sit at the center, but a wave of flavors brings a burst of complexity that’s difficult to single out. I catch nutmeg, cardamom, clove, and cinnamon, along with cedar, malt, light berries, and orange and lemon zest. Then root beer. That’s a new one. Through all of this, the spice keeps bouncing up and down. I’m loving this early-stage complexity.
Further into the first half, the cigar finds its footing. Coffee, cedar, baking spices, and cream form the core, while the spice continues its bounce-house dance. That initial nicotine hit had me a little concerned that it would build uncontrollably. It hasn’t. Strength is edging toward medium-plus, but it’s not overpowering. Body, meanwhile, is thick, rich, and creamy, pushing just shy of full as clouds of opaque white smoke issue from my mouth.
The profile is super complex, but you have to look closely to see it. It carries an incredible internal energy, yet it’s so balanced and refined after all these months of age that you almost don’t notice it.
It reminds me of, well, me. At 64 years old, I’ve lived through a lot. Looking at where I am now, I see a regular guy who loves to smoke cigars. But when I look back at my life, at everything I’ve done and accomplished, and especially at all the family and friends around me, I can only say, Wow. That’s how I feel about this cigar. There’s so much going on, but the balance makes it appear to be a regular tasty treat. That’s a façade for all the complexity and energy underneath.
I reach halfway and realize the cigar has gone out while I was ruminating. I chuckle because one of those memories was a fraternity hazing game I had to play as a pledge called “Kiss the Camel’s Ass.”
They blindfold you, then hand you three beers in succession that you have to chug. After spinning you around a couple of times, they start chanting, “Kiss the camel’s ass! Kiss the camel’s ass!” Then they push you forward, and your face lands squarely in a gooey mass.
It’s actually peanut butter spread into the crease between someone’s back and arm, with their arm pressed against their side to simulate a butt crack. Disoriented from the beers and spinning, more than one person ends up puking because they think they’ve just landed face-first in shit.
Fortunately, while I was chugging my beers, I could smell the peanut butter. I knew it wasn’t shit. So when they pressed my face into it, I started licking up the peanut butter like I was performing cunnilingus. The guy playing the camel jumped away, yelling, “FUCK!” I fell to the ground laughing, my face covered in Skippy peanut butter.
Back to the cigar. How do I describe this? The complexity is there, but it’s static complexity. There’s energy, but it’s potential rather than kinetic. There’s no drift and no overt action either. But here’s the thing: It’s a flavor bomb. If it stayed like this for the rest of the smoke, I’d be happy to cruise right along.
And just when I think the cigar is all potential energy, it shifts to kinetic as I get deeper into the second half. The spice intensifies and seems to explode all over my mouth. It isn’t overpowering or particularly pronounced, but it’s pervasive. The energetic lift it provides is immense.
The core remains solid as can be, but the flavors start cycling quickly, flashing by with new ones entering: citrus, roasted nuts, stone fruit, floral notes, toasted sourdough, vanilla, and caramel. Those are just the new flavors. The others whiz by at a rapid clip.
What. The. Fuck.
The best thing about it is that just before all this activity, the nicotine dropped. Body is full now, but strength has returned to medium. That drop in nicotine was like a valve opening and letting the pressure out. It’s magnificent. I’m hanging on for dear life. There’s so much going on that I can only ride it out and let it happen.
As I approach the last inch and smoke into it, the profile compresses and the Corojo spice increasingly asserts itself. It’s persistent without being overpowering, and it still lifts the profile.
The activity dies down, leaving wonderful dark plum and rich mocha as dark chocolate enters the fold. Coffee darkens to espresso, and the cedar takes on a deep char. The cream remains thick, but the spice keeps it from becoming enveloping. With that compression and darkness, strength pushes toward medium-plus again. Nicotine, however, is nonexistent. That’s amazing. I’m nubbing this!
I have anywhere from 500 to 600 cigars in my various containers at any time. It’s not because I’m hoarding. Age matters. That quantity lets me stage the cigars I smoke, and having multiples of each allows me to track their changes over time. And the changes with this cigar have been amazing. It was good with just a few months of age, but it’s a completely different cigar now.
That said, I probably won’t be getting any more until I return to the DR next year. Then I’ll buy a few bundles and let them sit. Sir Louis Cigars lists them at $8 a stick, which is a great price, though the Corojo Robusto is currently sold out. I reached out to them, and they said they’re on order, but no ETA on availability.
In the DR, I can get a bundle of 25 for $175, bringing it down to $7 a stick. I’ve reached out to Lee Hammond to buy directly from him, but he always tells me to go to Sir Louis Cigars. Oh well, at least it’s an excuse to pay him a visit.
Katman here: Please check out Brendan Delumpa’s website at Unco B’s Stogie Diary.
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Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
Great review!
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