Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf
Size: 6-1/2 x 52
Thanks to Rocky's Cigars
Each Cojonu 2012 blend is box-pressed 6 1/2 x 52 toro vitola. A new, small venture in the Tatuaje line. The collaboration between Pete Johnson and Pepin Garcia seems to be a match made in cigar heaven. Nobody can get the cigar quality out of Garcia like Johnson does. I’m sure Garcia likes being pushed to get the Johnson vision right.
The dry sniff of the cigar is a little odd. Depending on where I place my nose, I get different aromas. One place is old grass, another is cocoa, another is sweet, another is sour…the foot is mainly barnyard and just a bit of tea and a touch of cocoa.
There are some pretty large veins that run its length that I hope don’t affect the burn.
The cigar features two bands. And it confused me at first. Both cigar wrappers are dark, in a chocolate-y brown sort of way. As it turns out, the lighter of the two was the Sumatra, which I previously reviewed. Actually, it bugs me a little when a manufacture doesn’t put the blend name somewhere on the bands. It becomes a guessing game or a Google search to figure out what you’re smoking. I read several other reviews before starting mine and it seems that confusion is catching. Half the reviewers confused the band colors and the blend. They added colors that aren’t there, etc.
I light up and it starts out with a flavor profile of coffee, leather, and that Garcia blast of pepper. The burn immediately becomes a little erratic. Which corrects itself quickly.
An inch in, I get a nice coffee flavor took that compliments the spiciness. A little father in, the coffee morphed to a dark cocoa flavor. The spice gives the stick a long finish.
The stick begins what I call a Padron alliance. It seems to assimilate the best in Padron cigars.
The sticks gets some walnut flavors…like black walnuts….almost bitter. The body is smack at the medium level. This is my first cigar of the day and with only a bowl of lovely Grape Nuts in my belly, I wonder if I should take my time and not find myself getting up halfway through the cigar and pace the room, muttering: “ I should have slowed down. Oooh, the room is spinning.”
I’m still in the first third and the stick is bringing creaminess to the palate. The cocoa ramps up in conjunction… and the stick gets a little sweeter.
As I enter the second third, the spiciness increases. But so does the creaminess and cocoa. The cigar is following the menu of most great Nicaraguan cigars. The power of the nicotine, the cocoa and coffee, the spiciness, the body fluctuations, etc.
During the second third, I get that sour aroma on the palate now and again. It’s not offputting but it’s there. I’m not sure if it’s citrus or not. It’s a little too vague for my palate.
As I near the halfway mark, I can definitely say that this stick is very similar to a Padron 1964. It has a depth and breadth of flavor and complexity that one expects from Padron. But also Pete Johnson and Garcia.
I get a bit of berry flavor. No idea what kind. Just a sweetness associated with berries…a bit tart but very flavorful.
Past the halfway point, all the prominent flavors intertwine and become nuances rather than distinct flavors.
The burn becomes erratic again. I think I will have to fix it. I end doing just that. This stick might be a little too green to smoke….I’m not saying it doesn’t taste great, but a few months in the humidor might cure what little ills it suffers.
The final third explodes with flavors. There is a creamy, buttery graham cracker flavor. I can also taste a malty cocoa combination….like at an ice cream shoppe. This is turning into one of the best cigars I’ve smoked. The creaminess is unbelievable! It’s at this point, that I have a tendency to smoke it too fast so I must get in some zen state to slow down, enjoy it, and don’t puke from the spins.
While I truly enjoyed the Sumatra, I’m really digging the Broadleaf. I like this cigar every bit as much as a Padron 1964 or 1926. I didn’t expect this at all.
As I finish this marvelous cigar, I want to light up another. I highly recommend this stick. It ain’t cheap but it’s worth every dime.
To get a great deal on these cigars, go to Rocky's Cigars.
And now for something completely different:
Yes. Bizarre is the only way to describe it. I was smack dab in the middle of my professional musical career. I had attained some peer cred and therefore got to do and see things. I had come off of playing bass with the English band Curved Air. Claim to fame: “The Police” drummer Stewart Copeland was my band mate.
I came back to Long Beach, CA and opened a recording studio, production company and management company. Claim to fame: I took a project to the charts…a novelty single called “Whatever Happened to Eddie?” starring Butch (Eddie Munster) Patrick. We took the theme from “The Munsters” and added our own lyrics and re-recorded the music for the times….1983.
We did well. Sold 183,000 units before the F.B.I. shut down our label, Rocshire Records, for embezzlement, (An incredible story unto itself for another time) and that was that.
I also was playing in a band (The Attitude) making the local charts with our kick ass version of Elvis’ “Hound Dog.” Little Richard played piano on the cut.
Life was good. These were also the years made famous by the Beverly Hills Diet of Cocaine and Champagne. And I had dough. You can take it from there.
I had a hanger-on friend named Marshall. Marshall was a bona fide, big time, radio disc jockey. We hung.
In December of 1981, he got VIP tickets to the release of Hanukkah Rocks by Gefilte Joe & The Fish on RHINO Records.
The release was at the famous Improv in Hollywood. Marshall asked me to go with him because he knew I’d have coke….rather than take his girlfriend because he would have to go out and buy coke. Mooching was better.
That’s where I met him. Andy Kaufman. Latka of the sit com “TAXI.” As the hours burned, there were 5 of us left in the club sitting at the same booth. Me. Marshall. Andy. Some guy and his girl friend.
We sat at a large half circle booth with Andy in the middle. The “other” guy asked Andy about the wrestling thing he was doing.
Andy, for some reason, decided his next campaign in the world of improvisational art, would be the world of wrestling. It quickly went from wrestling men to wrestling women. The men were kicking his ass because he made fun of the “sport.”
So he would challenge any woman in the audience. Sometimes, he won. Sometimes, he didn’t. It became a nationwide joke.
We all sat there in the booth, hugging our Hanukkah gifts. Including a record called Hanukkah Rocks shaped like a Star of David, in blue, with 2 songs on each side. It was a very cool trophy (I hung it in my recording studio office and someone stole it.)
Andy began to weave the history of wrestling to us. Unless you knew him, you really didn’t know what his voice sounded like. Obviously, it wasn’t that of Foreign Man or Latka. And it didn’t sound like Elvis. He had sort of a milque toast voice, a little high, but quiet, when he spoke. You had to lean in.
We listened and contributed and had a very normal conversation with one of the craziest entertainers in the world. Then Marshall asked Andy if he would wrestle the girl sitting with us. He agreed without thought. Same with the chick.
There was a small dance floor, about 10 feet square, in the middle of the club. Marshall stayed in the booth. The girl’s boyfriend moved to a chair at the corner of the dance floor. I moved to the opposite corner….and then we waited……and waited…while Andy seemed to be meditating with eyes closed.
Then in a rush of energy, he jumped to the top of the booth table and leaped off it like a crazed man. We all yelled, thinking he would fall, but he landed like a cat on the dance floor.
The X rated epithets started coming from his mouth as he hunkered into a wrestling hunch and circled the girl. He was a foul mouthed S.O.B. Yet he was the complete opposite at the table.
The chick made her move and threw Andy to the floor. It stunned him. He got up screaming at the girl, “You fucking bitch! You Cunt!” And so on. They got into a stranglehold on each other with neither giving in. Neither falling to their knees.
Then something vicious…..Andy did a sweep with his leg, knocking the pins out from under the girl. Really nasty, because she hit the floor HARD! He then leaped into the air and dropped right on top of her to pin her. She was screaming for help. I looked over to her boyfriend and he was laughing.
In only moments, Andy counted, “1-2-3” and jumped off of her. He walked the perimeter of the dance floor with both hands in the air showing domination and accomplishment. His head was bobbing up and down, enjoying the win.
The girl could not get up. She was hurt. Andy played too rough. We all shook our heads and Marshall asked Andy why did he have to play so rough? Andy ignored him.
We gathered our things at the table. Andy asked us all up to his place, not far from the club, to hang out the rest of the night. We all declined. We were disgusted.
Never thought in my wildest imagination, I’d ever have a story like this.
Andrew Geoffrey Kaufmann
January 17, 1949 – May 16, 1984