Cigar Review: Crowned Heads Broadway

A Study in De-evolution

Introduction

When Crowned Heads first revealed their new Broadway line, I was genuinely excited. The band design alone had me hooked: regal, modern, and theatrical, like something lifted from a marquee in Manhattan. It felt like a fresh era for Crowned Heads branding—bold, sharp, and upscale.

As I talked to other cigar smokers in the community, I realized I wasn’t alone. The buzz was building. This wasn’t just a new stick—it was a signal. Crowned Heads was stepping into the spotlight with something slick, something that promised both style and substance.

So I did what any hopeful critic would do: I took the Broadway Toro (6 x 52) to my favorite cigar lounge and prepared to experience the show. Wrapped in dark Broadleaf Maduro, bound with Ecuadorian Sumatra, and filled with Nicaraguan tobacco, the cigar was rolled at Tabacalera Pichardo (now Luciano Cigars) and priced around $13. On paper, it was an enticing blend—a modern production with traditional roots.

But sometimes, even the best-dressed actors forget their lines.

Pre-light Impressions

The Broadway is gorgeous. From the first glance, it looks like something I’d design myself—dark and gritty, but refined. The Broadleaf wrapper is oily and toothy, with the kind of character that says, “This one’s got something to say.” Paired with the updated branding and a striking blue foot ribbon, it’s one of the most attractive cigars Crowned Heads has released.

A gentle pre-light inspection revealed faint leather notes on the wrapper and richer earth and barnyard funk at the foot. The cold draw—firm but workable—surprised me with a distinct flavor of iced tea. Light, refreshing, and oddly soothing. Not a common first impression, and not unwelcome.

First Third

Lighting up, the Broadway settles into a solid medium-bodied profile. Flavors are present but hard to isolate—wood, baking spice, cocoa, maybe even a little espresso—all tangled together like a jazz ensemble warming up.

One note does stand out: a cherry cough syrup-like coating on the back of the throat. Not so much cherry as that slick, medicinal aftertaste that lingers uninvited. It’s distracting, but also strangely compelling.

The retrohale carries a warm, cayenne-like spice—more heat than pepper, offering a bit of zing without overwhelming the senses. As the cigar burns, that spice fades, then returns, like a recurring motif. The draw remains firm, and the construction is excellent—slow burning, self-correcting, with dense white ash that’s both flaky and strong.

Second Third

Here’s where the performance starts to flatten. The flavors remain complex but indistinct. There’s maple, maybe, alongside dark chocolate, dry oak, and some residual spice—but they never quite crystallize. The cigar starts to coast, like a musical number that goes on too long in the middle of a show without emotional payoff.

Occasionally, a note flares up—a moment of potential. But it fades fast, and what’s left is a slow-burning, textured cigar that doesn’t seem sure of its own direction.

Retrohale spice returns, faintly. The mouthfeel remains oily and persistent, but not in a grounding way. It picks up a slight minerality. The salty sensation begs for something substantial and sweet, like fresh cream or caramel, but it never materializes. It feels like seasoning without food. Salt and pepper, but where’s the dish?

Despite all this, construction continues to impress. The burn line is clean, the ash sturdy, and the wrapper feels like high-end resume paper—smooth, but tactile. It’s a cigar that looks and performs beautifully, even as it struggles to deliver a memorable act.

Final Third

As I enter the last two inches, the Broadway takes a darker turn. Bitterness creeps in—sharp, oily, and unpleasant. It evokes motor oil, over-steeped tea, or licking a saddle fresh from the tannery after a long, muddy ride. The earlier medicinal note transforms into something acrid, like it’s been sitting too long in the spotlight.

I sip on a Coke between draws, grateful for its clarity and sparkle—because the cigar has almost none. The retrohale is still warm, but now flavorless. The finish, which once hinted at complexity, devolves into leather and dirt. It’s an ending with no resolution. A final scene without applause.

Final Thoughts

The Broadway had everything going for it. A beautiful band. Excellent construction. Smart presentation. It entered with a spotlight and left with a sputter.

This is a cigar you admire from afar—until you light it. Then, it quietly disappoints. Not offensive, just forgettable. A study in de-evolution. A production with great wardrobe but no emotional core.

The Retrohale Score: C+ (82)

Well-built and beautifully banded, but ultimately flat and forgettable.