Here’s my final review. No one can say ZippoGeek wasn’t a good sport (booyeah, me!)
Today’s rocket is a flavored selection: the St. Croix Hazelnut. For the record, I detest infused cigars like it’s my job. I mean, I hate the
crap out these things! So why on Earth did I choose one from the pass? Because it was the smallest damn stick I could grab (6 x 43)! I figured that no matter how bad it tasted, my suffering would be brief. As it turns out, this strategy was dumber than a sack of diapers.
First, let’s talk appearances. The wrapper on his thing is hideously deformed, like Emperor Palpatine’s face. Raised veins and seams are everywhere. When you run your fingers across it, it’s like reading an ominious message in braille: “This…cigar…is going…to suck!”
The whole stick smells like a nauseatingly sweet pipe tobacco blend. “Typical flavored cigar,” I mutter, lighting up the foot. Before I can even put the thing to my lips, I’m surrounded by an overpowering, hyper-sweet aroma. It’s a foul stench, like incense and mothballs.
I finally work up the courage to put this monstrosity in my pie hole. The taste is sweeter than a teaspoon of saccharine. Between the horrid flavor and the incense/mothball aroma, there’s a moment when I feel like I might puke in my mouth. “Bleccch!”
On these first few puffs, I notice some notes of toasted nut. Hope springs eternal…“Maybe she’ll get better!”
Yeah, right. The sweetness is overpowering from start to finish, with no sign of hazelnuts. Disgusting!
But I soldier on, fighting through this thing about halfway down to the ring. Mercifully, the stick burns itself out twice, giving me an exit strategy. After a third flame-out, I sarcastically say, "Oh well!" and toss it in my Stinky. And I can almost swear I heard that ashtray groan...
Verdict: I think you already know.
Let's just say that I'm satisfied with my solid 23 minute effort here, and for having done my noble duty for the Brotherhood!