Bury the Leaf

I have a confession to make. 

A dangerous confession. 

A confession that may cause my membership card to be immediately revoked from the Brotherhood of Connecticut Skeptics. 

I liked this cigar. 

There. 

It’s out there. 

We’ll come back to that. 

First, you need to understand that Connecticut cigars and I have a long and mostly uneventful history together. 

We’re not enemies. 

I don’t actively avoid them. 

I don’t roll my eyes when somebody tells me their favorite cigar is a Connecticut. 

I simply don’t seek them out. 

Most of the time, when I smoke a Connecticut, I appreciate the craftsmanship, acknowledge the quality, and then promptly spend the rest of the evening wondering what else I could have smoked instead. 

It’s not personal. 

It’s chemistry. 

For every Connecticut I’ve genuinely enjoyed, there have been a dozen that left me feeling like I had just spent ninety minutes discussing quarterly earnings reports. 

Perfectly respectable. 

Perfectly professional. 

Entirely forgettable. 

Which brings us to the Blackened S84. 

This particular cigar arrived courtesy of our friends at Cigar Page for the princely sum of $4.16. 

Then it proceeded to do absolutely nothing for nearly a year. 

While flashier cigars got selected. 

While Habanos got chosen. 

While Maduros got chosen. 

While every cigar wearing a darker wrapper cut the line like a celebrity skipping airport security. 

The S84 sat quietly in the humidor beside a 69% pack, patiently waiting for its turn. 

Tonight, its number finally got called. 

Unfortunately, the evening didn’t exactly begin with confidence. 

Before the lighter ever touched the foot, I discovered the wrapper had already begun separating near the edge. 

Not dramatically. 

Not catastrophically. 

But enough to make me wonder if somebody applied that final bit of wrapper at 4:57 PM on a Friday while mentally loading a fishing boat for the weekend. 

The cold draw delivered earth and hay. 

The wrapper looked suspicious. 

The cigar was a Connecticut. 

In other words, things were proceeding exactly as expected. 

Then the S84 started smoking. 

And everything changed. 

By the Numbers

• Price Paid: $4.16 
• Vitola: Toro 
• Storage: Approximately 1 year at 69% RH 
• Cut: V-Cut 
• Pairing: Water 
• Duration: 1 hour 43 minutes 
• Burn: Straight after initial foot correction 
• Relights: 0 

Construction & First Impressions

The cold draw was smooth with very little resistance and delivered straightforward notes of earth and hay. 

Nothing surprising. 

Nothing alarming. 

The wrapper, however, had already decided to become part of the conversation. 

The separation at the foot was noticeable enough that I immediately began questioning how the burn would behave. 

The irony wasn’t lost on me. 

Most cigars at least wait until after they’re lit before introducing potential concerns. 

This one apparently wanted to get ahead of the process. 

Fortunately, the cigar had no interest in validating my concerns. 

Within the first several draws, the foot corrected itself. 

The burn line straightened. 

The wrapper settled down. 

And from that point forward, the S84 spent the rest of the evening making me look increasingly foolish for worrying about it in the first place. 

The opening profile arrived with a distinct mineral quality. 

Almost metallic. 

Not Metallica metallic. 

Just metallic. 

Alongside that came hay. 

Grass. 

And enough Connecticut character to remove any doubt about what kind of cigar this intended to be. 

The S84 wasn’t easing into its identity. 

It was standing in the front yard screaming it through a megaphone.

First Third

The opening third immediately established a profile that felt unmistakably Connecticut. 

Hay remained prominent. 

Fresh-cut grass joined the party. 

Light wood notes began developing in the background. 

If the review had ended twenty minutes into the cigar, I would have confidently described it as exactly what I expected. 

Then things got interesting. 

A subtle sweetness began appearing behind the wood and spice. 

I spent multiple draws trying to identify it. 

Every time I thought I had a handle on it, it slipped away. 

The sweetness wasn’t bold enough to dominate the profile. 

It wasn’t obvious enough to identify. 

It simply lingered in the background, adding balance and complexity. 

At the same time, another surprise emerged. 

Spice. 

Not overwhelming spice. 

Not pepper-bomb spice. 

But enough spice to make me stop and take notice. 

In fact, I found myself describing it with the highly scientific tasting term: 

“Ahh, that’s-a spicy meatball-ah.” 

For a cigar that started by waving the Connecticut flag, there was considerably more seasoning in the recipe than expected. 

The burn continued behaving. 

The draw remained excellent. 

And somewhere around the one-inch mark, a deeply uncomfortable realization began forming. 

I was enjoying myself. 

Not in a polite way. 

Not in a “this is better than most Connecticuts” way. 

I was genuinely enjoying the cigar. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

Eventually, I gathered enough courage to type the words. 

I like this Connecticut. 

Even now, rereading that sentence feels strange. 

But it was true then. 

And it only became more true as the evening progressed. 

Second Third

The second third is where many Connecticut cigars lose momentum. 

The opening excitement fades. 

The profile settles. 

The experience becomes repetitive. 

The S84 refused to cooperate with that script. 

Instead, the profile continued evolving. 

The hay gradually retreated. 

The grass softened. 

Cedar steadily moved forward and eventually claimed the spotlight. 

The mysterious sweetness remained tucked behind everything else, continuing to contribute without fully revealing itself. 

Meanwhile, the spice maintained enough presence to prevent the cigar from becoming passive. 

This wasn’t an aggressive cigar. 

It wasn’t trying to dominate the palate. 

It simply understood how to remain interesting. 

Performance remained equally impressive. 

At nearly two inches, the ash continued hanging on despite my confident prediction that it was approximately one draw away from becoming a floor decoration. 

One draw passed. 

Then another. 

Then several more. 

Eventually, six draws later, the ash finally detached and conducted what can only be described as a full-scale carpet bombing of the lounge floor. 

Mr. Evening Draw was wrong. 

Again. 

The cigar, meanwhile, was right. 

Again. 

The cedar continued gaining strength. 

The profile became increasingly balanced. 

And an important realization emerged. 

This wasn’t succeeding because it was a Connecticut. 

This wasn’t succeeding despite being a Connecticut. 

It was succeeding because it was simply a well-executed cigar. 

That distinction matters.

Final Third

By the time the final third arrived, the verdict had become unavoidable. 

The S84 had won. 

The cedar profile remained firmly in control. 

The sweetness continued operating quietly in the background. 

The spice maintained just enough influence to keep every draw engaging. 

Most importantly, the cigar never stopped progressing. 

There was no flattening. 

No boredom. 

No point where I found myself checking the remaining length and wondering whether it was time to move on. 

Every draw felt deliberate. 

Every draw felt worth taking. 

The construction remained equally impressive. 

The burn stayed straight. 

The draw stayed open. 

The cigar required zero relights. 

Zero touch-ups. 

Zero interventions. 

For a cigar that introduced itself with a wrapper concern before ignition, that’s a remarkable performance. 

Then came the moment that officially pushed this review into absurd territory. 

Tongue tingle. 

Not a little tongue tingle. 

Not a maybe-if-you-squint tongue tingle. 

Actual tongue tingle. 

From a Connecticut. 

If you’ve followed The Evening Draw for any length of time, you know exactly why that matters. 

Tongue tingle is one of my favorite signs that a cigar is truly engaging my palate. 

It’s something I frequently celebrate. 

It’s also something I never expected to experience from this cigar. 

Yet there it was. 

As the final inches disappeared, the S84 delivered one last surprise and completely shattered whatever assumptions I still had remaining.

Millennium of Aftermath

The Blackened S84 Shade to Black did something very few cigars manage to accomplish. 

It changed my expectations. 

Not expectations about this cigar. 

Expectations about an entire category. 

I entered the evening expecting a Connecticut. 

What I found instead was a balanced, flavorful, consistently engaging cigar that happened to wear a Connecticut wrapper. 

The hay and grass were present. 

The cedar became outstanding. 

The sweetness added intrigue. 

The spice provided personality. 

The tongue tingle delivered the exclamation point. 

At no point did the cigar become boring. 

At no point did it become repetitive. 

At no point did it give me a reason to stop smoking it. 

At $4.16, the value proposition borders on insanity. 

Even if this cigar had merely been good, the price would have justified attention. 

The fact that it substantially exceeded expectations only makes the argument stronger. 

Would I smoke another one? 

Absolutely. 

Would I buy another one? 

Without hesitation. 

Would I recommend it to Connecticut smokers? 

Of course. 

More surprisingly, I’d recommend it to people like me. 

People who typically walk past Connecticut cigars without a second thought. 

People who assume they already know exactly how the experience will unfold. 

Because every once in a while, a cigar comes along that reminds us assumptions are expensive things to carry. 

The S84 spent nearly a year waiting quietly in the humidor for its opportunity. 

When that opportunity finally arrived, it made the most of it. 

And somewhere along the way, it accomplished something I genuinely didn’t think was possible. 

It earned a repeat ride. 

For a Connecticut, that’s practically witchcraft. 

Rating: 5 Bands