CAO Mx2 Toro Review

Overview

The CAO Mx2 Toro is a study in obsession—a cigar that asks what happens when you strip away the safety net of contrast and commit entirely to one valley’s voice. While most blends use a Mexican wrapper to add a spicy kick or a sweet veneer over a Nicaraguan core, the Mx2 doubles down: San Andrés on both sides, wrapping a Nicaraguan and Mexican filler that seems to have been chosen not to compete, but to harmonize. The result is a cigar that doesn’t so much build as it deepens, like a photographer pulling the same shadow out of every frame until you realize the darkness itself is the subject.

From the first cold draw, the Mx2 announces its intent with a dense, almost fudgy chocolate and dried fig—not the bright, fruity fig of a fresh orchard, but the concentrated, jammy depth of a fruit left to darken in the sun. The moment the flame catches, that promise resolves into a bold espresso shot, bitter and roasted, with a cocoa powder dusting that coats the palate. There’s a molasses sweetness that rides just beneath, not cloying but grounding, like the bass line in a jazz trio. The retrohale delivers a white pepper tingle that’s sharp but brief, a reminder that this is still a cigar with a pulse, not a dessert.

By the second third, the Mx2 shifts from statement to conversation. The heat of the burn unlocks a dark cherry note—not the syrupy kind, but the tart, almost sour edge of a dried Bing cherry—alongside a leathery chew that gives the smoke body. A cedar backbone emerges, dry and aromatic, threading through the sweetness like a spine. The San Andrés binder, which had been quietly supporting the wrapper, now steps forward, amplifying the toasted nut character—think roasted almond or hazelnut skin—and folding it into the dark fruit. The strength climbs to a confident medium-full, but it never pushes; it simply fills the mouth with more presence, more weight, as if the cigar is exhaling deeper rather than louder.

The final third is where the Mx2 earns its keep. The sweetness recedes, not disappearing but retreating into the background like a memory, while the espresso returns with a concentrated, almost syrupy intensity. Bittersweet chocolate—the 85% cacao kind—takes over, joined by a persistent earthiness that tastes like damp soil after rain. A dried chili warmth, more cumin than cayenne, lingers on the finish, adding a savory counterpoint to the leather and pepper that close the show. The burn stays even throughout, the draw firm but yielding, producing a smoke so creamy it feels like velvet on the tongue. The ash holds for over an inch, flaking slightly but never threatening to drop prematurely. This is a cigar that rewards patience, and by the final inch, you’ll be glad you gave it the time.