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Bought a fiver off The Dawg, almost a month ago now, and he's been nagging me for a review. Honestly, I keep meaning to try them, but when you've got 2,000+ stogies strewn about in (down to) 10 humidorii, you are constantly sidetracked as you search for a particular smoke by, "Whoa! Haven't smoked one of these babies in a long time!" or "WTF? Didn't know I had some of these!"
Finally made an effort to find The Dawg's Quadrums, disregarding the siren call of any other stogies I chanced upon en route ("en route: that's French for: "I eat road kill.")
First thing you notice is that this 5 1/5 x 55, slightly box pressed, chocolately brown cigar is absolutely striking! The Honduras Criollo ?98 wrapper is rolled so perfectly and smoothly, you have to look closely to find the seam. Observe:
Even the band is magnificent! (Enlargement):
Next, I traversed the length of this solid beauty under my prodigious proboscis. Oh my! The closest description I can give of this experience is that you go to your favo(u)rite tobacconist -- the one that stocks all the rare and aged breeds that make you drool as you enter the front door -- and just as you hit the exact epicenter of the store, with all the astounding odo(u)rs assaulting your olfactory nerves, there is a substantial earthquake which knocks you off your feet and then causes every stoogee in the store to leap off the shelves and land on you, burying you completely. So, there you are, in total darkness, with the most amazing smells you have ever smelled assaulting your smeller. Now, mind you, I haven't even lit this fecker yet!
Even Perfectly Cutting this beauty would be wasting a perfectly good 1/8" of what is turning out to be a most interesting see-gar, since it is somewhat more flattened on the end rather than rounded. So I whips out my (... wait for it...) nifty gifty punch from the G-man. (You were expecting something different, mebbe? Filth! Shame on you!) Made a lurvely, neat, little hole. Headed out to my smoking lair on the porch.
Beautiful evening, temp around 70 F, with a wisp of wind, the citrus ripe and wafting its enchanting fragrance everywhere, and I settled in with a crisp, clean lime water (freshly squoze offa the tree but moments ago).
Pick up a lighter which gives off a broader, softer flame rather than my torch which approaches the temperature of the sun and can burn off a mosquitoes balls at twenty paces. Note that this is a counter (anti) clockwise stogie.
[DIVERSION=rokkitsci]
See-gars can be rolled either way y'know. One must always take care to rotate one's smoke in the proper direction, lest one tend to catch a stray pokey outey and cause the wrapper to un.
[\DIVERSION]
Applying the flame to the nether end, inserting the punched end 'tween the lips, rotating slowly anti (counter) clockwise, I apply suctive power. WOW! Draw is absofuckinglutely PERFECT. Within two three rotatives, I have a perfectly even glowing stogiye producing volumes of smoke.
Yum.
Now, I have aforetimes mentioned that I have not so refined a palate as, say, Mr. Bulgaria who can distinguish whether a particular leaf was inserted into the bundle sunside or shadeside up and describe the different nuance appurtenant to that specific leaf flavo(u)r-wise, be it either noonberry or early-pm-berry. Thus, I can only tell for sure whether I: A) don't like it, B) like it, C) like it A LOT, or D) like it so much that I want to start humping the neighbo(u)r's leg (which I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate) along with a general hint of an actual flavo(u)r. In this case, the best I can do is to tell you that I was experiencing something I can only describe as a rich, creamy, almost nutty sapidity (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/sapidity. Ain't thesaurii wunnerful tings?)
I had a really, really hard time taking this stroogey out of my mouth as I puff, puff, puffed with its even burn leaving behind a very firm, gray ash.
It was delish, first puff to last!
Ended up finishing the sucker off with a toothpick and even burning that sumbitch off so that I received a lurvely sudden-hot-crotch experience. Didn't know I could move that fast.
This delectable doobie runs under ten bucks a pop (much less if you buy 'em by the box) of United Statesian money. That translates to roughly just a cat's whisker over ?6 of your funny Pounds Stirling Moss. Now I know that you boys pay more for some of your coobins that sometimes don't make you too happy on accounta they're so finicky they mebbe got theyselves too dry or too wet or too hot or too cold. Welp, this Quadrum (which, btw, is a pretty kewl name) is an NC which seemingly comes from sturdier stock than your primo don-ass, thus performs betterly in a variant tempachur or hu(u)miditity range.
I'd smoke one of these babies in a heartbeat, any time.
As alway, YMMV.
Finally made an effort to find The Dawg's Quadrums, disregarding the siren call of any other stogies I chanced upon en route ("en route: that's French for: "I eat road kill.")
First thing you notice is that this 5 1/5 x 55, slightly box pressed, chocolately brown cigar is absolutely striking! The Honduras Criollo ?98 wrapper is rolled so perfectly and smoothly, you have to look closely to find the seam. Observe:
Even the band is magnificent! (Enlargement):
Next, I traversed the length of this solid beauty under my prodigious proboscis. Oh my! The closest description I can give of this experience is that you go to your favo(u)rite tobacconist -- the one that stocks all the rare and aged breeds that make you drool as you enter the front door -- and just as you hit the exact epicenter of the store, with all the astounding odo(u)rs assaulting your olfactory nerves, there is a substantial earthquake which knocks you off your feet and then causes every stoogee in the store to leap off the shelves and land on you, burying you completely. So, there you are, in total darkness, with the most amazing smells you have ever smelled assaulting your smeller. Now, mind you, I haven't even lit this fecker yet!
Even Perfectly Cutting this beauty would be wasting a perfectly good 1/8" of what is turning out to be a most interesting see-gar, since it is somewhat more flattened on the end rather than rounded. So I whips out my (... wait for it...) nifty gifty punch from the G-man. (You were expecting something different, mebbe? Filth! Shame on you!) Made a lurvely, neat, little hole. Headed out to my smoking lair on the porch.
Beautiful evening, temp around 70 F, with a wisp of wind, the citrus ripe and wafting its enchanting fragrance everywhere, and I settled in with a crisp, clean lime water (freshly squoze offa the tree but moments ago).
Pick up a lighter which gives off a broader, softer flame rather than my torch which approaches the temperature of the sun and can burn off a mosquitoes balls at twenty paces. Note that this is a counter (anti) clockwise stogie.
[DIVERSION=rokkitsci]
See-gars can be rolled either way y'know. One must always take care to rotate one's smoke in the proper direction, lest one tend to catch a stray pokey outey and cause the wrapper to un.
[\DIVERSION]
Applying the flame to the nether end, inserting the punched end 'tween the lips, rotating slowly anti (counter) clockwise, I apply suctive power. WOW! Draw is absofuckinglutely PERFECT. Within two three rotatives, I have a perfectly even glowing stogiye producing volumes of smoke.
Yum.
Now, I have aforetimes mentioned that I have not so refined a palate as, say, Mr. Bulgaria who can distinguish whether a particular leaf was inserted into the bundle sunside or shadeside up and describe the different nuance appurtenant to that specific leaf flavo(u)r-wise, be it either noonberry or early-pm-berry. Thus, I can only tell for sure whether I: A) don't like it, B) like it, C) like it A LOT, or D) like it so much that I want to start humping the neighbo(u)r's leg (which I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate) along with a general hint of an actual flavo(u)r. In this case, the best I can do is to tell you that I was experiencing something I can only describe as a rich, creamy, almost nutty sapidity (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/sapidity. Ain't thesaurii wunnerful tings?)
I had a really, really hard time taking this stroogey out of my mouth as I puff, puff, puffed with its even burn leaving behind a very firm, gray ash.
It was delish, first puff to last!
Ended up finishing the sucker off with a toothpick and even burning that sumbitch off so that I received a lurvely sudden-hot-crotch experience. Didn't know I could move that fast.
This delectable doobie runs under ten bucks a pop (much less if you buy 'em by the box) of United Statesian money. That translates to roughly just a cat's whisker over ?6 of your funny Pounds Stirling Moss. Now I know that you boys pay more for some of your coobins that sometimes don't make you too happy on accounta they're so finicky they mebbe got theyselves too dry or too wet or too hot or too cold. Welp, this Quadrum (which, btw, is a pretty kewl name) is an NC which seemingly comes from sturdier stock than your primo don-ass, thus performs betterly in a variant tempachur or hu(u)miditity range.
I'd smoke one of these babies in a heartbeat, any time.
As alway, YMMV.
LMAO
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