No matter how much we may adore a particular premium cigar, the blend that makes up its physical composition is subject to change, and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it.
Sometimes, all it takes is a single barn fire, bad crop year, mold outbreak, tobacco beetle infestation, or supply chain snafu for things to fall apart at the seams. Waning public interest is also a serious concern, which over the decades has led to the retirement of countless premium cigar blends.
So when RoMa Craft Tobac announced that it would be permanently changing its prized CroMagnon blend a few years back, our first reaction was, "Rut-roh..." This blend landed at #15 on Cigar Aficionado's Top 25 in 2016 with an impressive 93-point rating and had become widely recognized as a flagship in the RoMa Craft Tobac flotilla.
Apparently, the quality of the Connecticut Broadleaf tobacco that had long cloaked the outside of this cigar had no longer been able to meet the master blender's quality standards, so a different blend was formulated. What came forth was a cigar that ditched the Connecticut outer leaf for a Pennsylvania Broadleaf wrapper and swapped the Cameroon binder for a Sumatran varietal.
However, you can still find the original CroMagnon blend on shelves at many brick and mortar shops, and we have yet to encounter any issue restocking this modern classic. But with no one knowing exactly how many boxes of this blend there are still in existence it feels like time is fleeting, so I decided to spark up a review stick to give this original mix a thorough shakedown while we can still get ahold of it.
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Unlit Impressions
Oiled-up, like a sweaty Paul Hogan in his Crocodile Dundee heydays, the original Broadleaf wrapper on this blend is a beauty of a thing. Soft and leathery to the touch, springy when squeezed, and sporting that familiar Connecticut funked-up aroma of leather, dried prunes, peppercorns, soil, and heavy fermentation, I can see why so many people dig the original blend.
Snorts off the 46-gauge foot unfold with a freakazoid of flavors coming to mind. Eggy custard with caramel sauce, sugary baked beans, Chinese-style black vinegar, and a sweet and nutty mixture makes me think of date nutbread. The last of these aromas was something I detected in another equally oily, Connecticut-bred blend that I smoked and reviewed recently, the CAO Flathead Steel Horse. Intriguing...
Let us not overlook the double band, which, unlike many other cigars on the market, is layered atop one another instead of staggered down the barrel. If you want to know which version of the CroMagnon you have, just look at the typography. If it is white, then you have the newer Pennsylvania blend, whereas the original seen here rocks a black-on-black motif.
Hot damn. Chewy, moist, and yearning for a torch light, unlit draws are nuttin' but date nutbread and mixed baking spice. Very little if any leather is to be detected here, and the same can be said for spiciness, peppery flavors, and/or heat.
Initial Smoke
Cinnamon's strong aromatics and really smooth draw struck me first. Mixed licorice and a lingering pepper burn toward the back of the throat leave a clean, but fairly spicy finish that is rudely interrupted by a sudden tunnel developing within the first ten minutes.
1st Half
Cedar and salt settle in as the primary flavors upon relight, and after a minute or two a nice mixture of coffee, mixed peppercorns, and cinnamon float to the top. Heavy, frayed ends of leather reach out, like the tattered binding on ancient books written in a long-forgotten love language. My eyes roll back for a moment as the damp smoke swirls across my senses. I haven't even hit the twenty-minute mark and this cigar is already hitting on all four levels of full, as body, flavor, strength, and finish dare me to take another toke. Don't mind if I do...
Some of you may enjoy that signature mixture of soil and sun that is the cornerstone of a solid Connecticut Broadleaf premium cigar blend. I personally find it to be quite enjoyable as well, especially when a cigar such as this takes these two tastes and reinforces them with a bit of black walnut and black licorice. The mouthfeel of the smoke ushering outward is equally wonderful, and the longer you pull the better it sticks to the tongue.
2nd Half
Muted sweetness and mixed peppercorns combine forces to form a full frontal assault in the last half, and things only grow more intense the more you smoke. Jalapeño and mineral notes arrive, which together form a unique flavor profile that is almost herbal in ways. The only thing that is around that can temper the strength of this section is a slice of wholegrain toast topped with salted butter, and even it struggles to keep things under control.
Leathery and unmistakably Broadleaf, the bovine backside of this blend raises its rear haunches and prepares to let rip. Fortunately for me, all that is emitted is a soil-rich, grassy, medium-grade fermented funk. Wet hay spread across the fields, damp clay, and a full frontal of nicotine's naughty bits make my head swim a bit as I reach for my beverage. Prehistoric man was into smoking some strong shit I tell you. Phew...
Parting Puffs
Is that a hint of peanut butter I detect? I am not entirely sure how that could possibly work with all that damp leather, spicy pepperiness, and Broadleaf barnyard business going on, but somehow it pulls it off. I dig it.
Ash / Burn / Smoke / Draw
That sudden tunnel formation in initial impressions wasn't the only section of this stick that required a relight. Tunnels tried to form in both the second and final third, both of which were easily remedied and did not seem to negatively affect the flavor or aroma of the cigar. Could this have been one of the Broadleaf quality issues RoMa Craft was so concerned about? It definitely gave me cause for concern.
Some points were regained for smoke production and draw though, and the silky texture of the smoke actually earned a few additional points for this blend.
Final Thoughts
My love for this cigar is undeniably strong, but it is also metered by caution. The slimmer corona vitola and shitty burn issues caused an ash drop to occur several times, and the need for a relight is never a good sign. I also found the nicotine strength toward the end of the cigar to be a bit distracting, and the peppery heat did little to help improve things.
Still, there is so much about this blend that urges me to recommend at least scoring a 5-pack while it is still in existence. One of the main reasons is due to the controlled amounts of Broadleaf funk that form. Some of us don't dig the whole farm animal and soil stank smell, so coming across a Connecticut Broadleaf blend that backs down a bit is always appreciated.
I also really like the dual-band design with the skull hidden underneath, and the way it looks atop that oily outer wrapper. Bonus points were also awarded for smoke production, mouthfeel, and overall smoothness. Snagging up a fiver before this blend disappears from the face of the earth is therefore strongly suggested, and we cannot wait to hear your thoughts about what you think about the official cigar of prehistoric man.
Flavor, Aroma & Transitions

Depth & Complexity

Construction, Burn & Physical Appeal

Backstory & Branding

Overall Balance & Repeatability

Stogie Specs
Cigar |
RoMa Craft Tobac "CroMagnon" |
Wrapper |
Connecticut Broadleaf (USA) |
Binder |
Cameroon (Africa) |
Filler |
Nicaragua |
Factory |
Nicaragua |
Size |
5 ¾ " x 46 (Anthropology/Corona) |
Strength |
Full |
Pairing Drink |
Homemade Hot Chai |
Rating |
4.3/5 |