CAO Flathead V660 Robusto Review

Overview

The CAO Flathead V660 is a cigar that wears its working-class armor proudly, yet it smokes with the quiet confidence of a sleeper engine. In a market saturated with loud branding and louder price tags, this 6x60 brute from Danlí, Honduras, is the automotive equivalent of a flathead V8: unglamorous, heavy on torque, and utterly dependable. The hot-rod band is a distraction—a decal on a machine that doesn't need it. What matters is what happens when you cut the cap and put flame to foot. This is a cigar that asks for your time, not your attention span, and rewards patience with a narrative that builds from a whisper of toasted grain to a crescendo of dark roast and earth.

From the cold draw, the V660 telegraphs its intentions with a loaf of toasted sourdough, a crack of white pepper, and a damp, mineral-rich earthiness that smells like a cellar floor after rain. Once lit, the first third is a study in restraint. A creamy cedar plank forms the spine, wrapped in roasted almond butter and a faint, almost floral sweetness on the retrohale. The leather is there, but it’s tucked into the back pocket—a tannic whisper that promises more. The burn is slow, deliberate, and the smoke is thick enough to chew on. At this stage, the V660 feels like a well-worn leather chair: familiar, comfortable, and deceptively simple.

The second third is where the engine downshifts and the road opens up. The cedar recedes slightly as a dense shot of espresso and dark chocolate (think 70% cacao, not milk) takes the lead. The leather steps forward, now more like a worn motorcycle jacket than a glove. A dried fig and light caramel sweetness emerges—not cloying, but a counterpoint that keeps the darker notes from turning bitter. The white pepper on the retrohale intensifies into a warm red chili heat, but it never scratches the throat. This is the heart of the smoke, where the Honduran sun-grown wrapper begins to show its mettle, adding a subtle, savory umami that grounds the Nicaraguan filler’s brightness.

As the final third approaches, the V660 sheds its sweetness like a snake shedding skin. The earth deepens into a dark, loamy soil, the espresso becomes a burnt, French-press intensity, and the pepper shifts to a black-cracked finish that lingers on the tongue. The woody tannins dry out the palate, leaving a sensation akin to chewing on a roasted coffee bean. It finishes warm, never harsh, with a final echo of cocoa and black pepper that fades slowly. The ash holds firm—a salt-and-pepper column that drops cleanly at the inch mark. This is not a cigar that fades into the background; it ends with a firm handshake and a knowing look. The V660 is a testament to the idea that complexity doesn’t require rarity, and that a $12 cigar can still tell a story worth finishing.