I typically shy away from adding lots of superlatives, hyperbole, not to mention outright reckless descriptions regarding flavors while writing about a cigar I just smoked.
Yes, I am familiar with bitter and grassy, but I generally draw the line there. To say that a cigar has a hint of citrus is for me just a huge stretch.
And I have a rather extraordinary sense of smell. And I am told that a good sense of smell generally goes hand in hand with having a good sense of taste. But citrus? In a cigar? Never tasted that before. Carmel? That flavor is more probable but it takes a more extreme sense of taste nuance than I possess to parse that flavor out of cigar.
I usually restrict my cigar commentary to the more simpler denominations by describing them in terms of strength and complexity.
Complexity in my humble opinion is the single most overriding factor in separating the good, the great, from the bad. I call the best of the best – the sweet spot.
But my prejudice – my view of the cigar universe – came crumbling down around me last night while smoking a short, skinny 5″ X 38(?) cigar by Rocky Patel.
I had no longer lit it when my tongue touched my lips and I got a taste of the wrapper and my mind immediately went ‘chocolate’.
And the damn thing smoked like one big damn dark chocolate bar the whole way.
I was stunned. Amazed. And a little bit in love.