Cigar Review: Warped Isla del Cocodrilo Toro
Introduction: “Gold Doesn’t Always Glow”
I found this cigar in a humidor while traveling through Oklahoma City—a shop with an impressive selection but one glaring offense: the owner smokes cigars inside the walk-in humidor. For me, that’s a hard no. Even if secondhand smoke doesn’t technically alter the flavor of the cigars, it lingers on the wrapper, and I’ve kept the few sticks I bought there quarantined off in a separate humidor ever since.
One of those cigars was the Warped Isla del Cocodrilo Toro—a 6 x 52 Nicaraguan puro featuring Corojo ’99 wrapper over Criollo ’98 and additional Corojo ’99 fillers, all sourced from Aganorsa leaf and rolled at the TABSA factory in Estelí. The presentation was gorgeous—deep brown wrapper, tightly rolled, an ornate band, and a name evoking mystique and heritage. Isla del Cocodrilo—“Island of the Crocodile”—is an old poetic reference to Cuba, and it’s clear Warped intended this cigar to feel like a tribute to Cuban elegance.
The hype surrounding it wasn’t small. It made Cigar Dojo’s Top 10 of 2024, coming in at number seven. And while I’d smoked it three times before, only one of those smokes had been satisfying. Still, I lit this one with hope. Boutique cigars can surprise you.
Pre-Light Impressions
The cigar was visually striking. A medium-brown wrapper with faint striations gave it a rustic charm—almost like aged wood. It was firm in the hand, nearly seamless in construction, and slightly dry to the touch, though not in a concerning way. The aroma off the wrapper was faint: a touch of hay, maybe a whisper of barnyard. From the foot, there was something more promising—a subtle raisin sweetness that hinted at depth.
First Third
The opening puffs offered a brief flash of sweetness—then quickly gave way to a strange sour-bitter aftertaste. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but confusing. Like store-bought frosting followed by green tea, it lacked structure. The sweetness didn’t feel fermented or rich; it felt fabricated, thin, almost like corn syrup. And the draw—while not plugged—was stubborn. I described it as trying to drink through a straw with a strawberry jammed inside. There was smoke, but not much of it, and not easily earned.
Retrohaling brought a hint of white pepper, but it was thin—sharp without being full. On the tongue, a little leather emerged at the front of the draw but vanished by the time the smoke left the mouth. There wasn’t much lingering flavor to speak of. Just a clean, airy finish that felt somewhat hollow.
Second Third
As the cherry neared a denser section under the band, the draw finally began to loosen. Still tight, but usable. That alone improved the experience, but only slightly. The flavor profile remained light, with the white pepper retrohale continuing. A bit more leather appeared, and the aftertaste took on a new identity: something like bitter tea leaves—dry, astringent, and fleeting. Not bold enough to be espresso, but not clean enough to be ignored.
There was a note in the background that reminded me faintly of graham cracker—dry, toasty, but without depth. The sweetness, still present, now felt more like warm nectar—delicate and slightly cloying when paired with the heat. The body remained light, and even calling it medium would be generous. For a Nicaraguan puro, it lacked the richness I typically associate with that terroir.
Final Third
Despite a visually flawless burn line for most of the session, the cigar developed a burn issue in the final third—a sharp wave, uneven ash, and visible instability. Ironically, it came just as the cigar was coasting toward its close. The flavors hadn’t changed much. An introduction of charred oak, but still airy smoke, still no depth. The foot smoke, unlike the aromatic cedar bouquet from the AVO 10th Anniversary I smoked days before, was acrid, even off-putting.
The sweetness became more noticeable as the temperature rose, but not in a good way. If nectar was warmed in a pan too long, you might get the taste I’m describing—sweet but off, slightly harsh, and hard to enjoy. The draw was no longer a problem by this point, but by now it was too late to matter.
Final Thoughts
The Warped Isla del Cocodrilo Toro is a cigar that wants to be admired. It presents well, it photographs well, and its origin story—Cuban nostalgia, boutique craft, Aganorsa pedigree—sets the table beautifully. But once lit, the story it tells is thin. There are moments—leather, graham cracker, white pepper—but they’re scattered, fleeting, and unsupported. The construction was mostly sound until the final third, but the tight draw and thin smoke made the journey feel laborious. I wanted to like this cigar more than I did.
And at $14, the value just doesn’t match the experience. Even when I found a box for $126 on clearance, I passed—not because it was too expensive, but because I couldn’t imagine smoking fifteen more. The box was stunning, the presentation polished. But I don’t want to buy boxes to admire—I want to buy them to smoke.
There’s a larger conversation here, too. Warped is often compared to Cuban cigars—and maybe there’s some truth in that. But in today’s world, Cuban cigars are more myth than masterpiece. I’ve smoked Cubans I enjoyed, and I’ve smoked Cubans I regretted—including a Cohiba Behike I’ll never touch again, even at a third of the price. Cuban cigars are just different—like Pepsi vs. Coke. To treat them as an unquestioned gold standard is a false narrative.
The truth is: cigars like Padrón and Tatuaje represent the natural evolution of Cuban tradition—preserving its craftsmanship while harnessing the richness of Nicaraguan soil, which produces tobacco every bit as distinctive and expressive as anything grown in Cuba.
So if this cigar leans Cuban in style? Fine.
But that doesn’t make it great.
The Retrohale Score: C+ (83)
Beautiful presentation with flashes of sweetness, leather, and graham cracker, but ultimately thin, hollow, and forgettable with draw issues and weak transitions.