A pox on all dud cigars. Disappointing, frustrating, miserable wastes of time. 

Next cab of the Robusto rank was the ERdM Choix Supreme. My experiences with this cigar in the past have largely been positive, so I was looking forward to this. Well, talk about one giant ripping of the Funk out of your Wagnalls. 

The immediate impression on opening was of earthy, bitter notes, but I was not worried. Fool! 

I thought give it a moment to hit its straps, and this too shall pass. As I said, fool! 

I was very careful in lighting it but, right from the first flicker of flame, it was going all different ways. The draw was a bit too light. But I still held out hope. Moron! 

It was powerful, indeed rugged. But the bitterness was still there. The wonky burn as well. And that acrid, bitter, earthy character infected the entire cigar. I persisted. Only fair. I tried to look for the positives and what was really frustrating was that there was the occasional brief intrusion of what a good one can offer. A whiff of honey here, a moment of caramel there. But these were simply the last fevered struggles of a drowning man sticking his head above water to gasp for air, before sinking into the dirty depths. 

And still the wonky burn continued. I swear that if I had a dollar for every time I had to relight it or touch it up, I could have purchased a handful of decent cigars. This, on reflection, was clearly not a well-made cigar, although that was not evident to begin. 

Eventually, with about an inch left, I turfed it. into the garden. I watched to see if the plants immediately died but no, fortunately. I did have a visitor during the cigar, a fabulous scrub turkey. Came within about three feet of me – something that they never used to do. But I think as soon as it got a whiff of the toxic fumes spewing forth, it turned and ran headlong back to the bush. Who wouldn’t? 

As I said, a pox on dud cigars. A score? I nearly didn’t bother. To give it a score would infer that it was actually worth something. It would even suggest that it should sit alongside other cigars, albeit not at their level. But then I thought that perhaps 15 would adequately express my disgust. Too much? Yes, I really do think I have been far too generous.

The drinks? 

Well, here is where it got interesting. The Monteith’s Black Beer is a Kiwi black, apparently made from five different malts. It certainly is rich and malty and not as sweet as some, also a blessing. What was surprising was that it was terrific with this cigar. It was rich enough to hide the bitterness of the smoke, a huge plus. 

I had also planned to pair it with the Glenfiddich Grand Cru, their new premium malt whisky. Which, by the way, is a cracker. But NO. I decided that doing so would be an insult to the whisky. I could not bring myself to do so. It will have to wait for another time. 

Talking to Rob about these cigars and he mentioned that they basically come in two guises. One is the experience I had; the other is a terrific cigar, all nougat and caramel and good things. Self-evident, I guess, that these are not always this dismal or they would have disappeared years ago. No one would deliberately subject themselves to an experience like this. 

So don’t give up. Just hope you get a good ‘un. 

KBG