Juliet: What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So i'm breaking a flu-imposed drought with some red wine and leftover Easter cheese followed by this RyJ Petit Corona and port... very niiice. The cigar itself isn't that impressive visually, a lighter shade of colorado with a few veins, but one can see the oily sheen on it and the detail of the leaf's little pores... always encouraging. Fired it up to encounter some bitter coffee grinds and a touch of cedar - still tasting a bit dry, probably needs a bit more time in the humi after its transtasman voyage. A cm in and the bitterness is superseded by a fair amount of cedar. An inch in and the trademark RyJ fruit has started to leech out of the cedar, joining nicely with the coffee grinds. Trademark as in burnt cherry style flavour, or else oak from a used port or cab sav cask. This is all joined by a satisfying steaky /hay texture halfway in, and a bit more cedar. Stays like this until just below the band, where the strength of youth takes hold and the force of circumstances (ie my son) makes me abandon the whole enterprise.
A plague on both your houses!
Had I a larger glass of port (and a large mallet with which to lovingly stroke my boy's head) and i would've kept on going. The rough edges of an overenthusiastic youth are clearly present, but with enough drink, this passionate treachery gives one something unique and satisfying to sink one's teeth into. I'm thinking of Julieta's left buttock. As often with the smaller vitolas, you get a concentrated version of the big brother's flavours, so you will easily recognise the genetic profile of the RyJ Churchill (also reminds me of a young Partagas Short). Also pleasantly enhanced by a phone conversation with Sam aka Chupapoya. Enjoy...
Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
