Tiramisu by H.O.C.

toasted n’ posted proudly presents…

Tiramisu by House of Cultivar

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Tiramisu by House of Cultivar

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we will be celebrating a week of House of Cultivar. This week I intend to hammer out four reviews on the exotic, terpene flooded strains unique to House of Cultivar’s golden touch. Today we have the the lovely Tiramisu; a cross of Royal Kush and OG Kush Breath (OGKB). OGKB is an increasingly popular descendant of the Girl Scout Cookies line. While Royal Kush is a mighty blend of Skunk No. 1 and Afghani influence. I fully expect to be pummeled into a frothy pulp by the willful heritage of this flower.

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I cower behind my shield as I open the jar to antagonize the slumbering leviathan. I feel the beast begin to move and churn out its essence. A strong waft of wet, spicy sugar takes residence in a earthy cocoa base. The dirty dispersed chocolate cough echoes across a basin of light herb and fresh meadow grass. Strewn about the thriving, slightly sour, field is a bank of thick creamy musk. This bizarre woody funk swallows every competing note, dousing it with provocative dank, seamlessly tying the bouquet together. There is a mild foulness of skunk implanted in firm woodland quality. This note in particular is like a pile of lumber that had been drenched by two days of rain. Every quality of Tiramisu is writhing with earthen sweetness and freshness.

The bold, yet tender rain of cocoa precipitates down onto the delicate earth-driven bouquet. The delicious downpour moistens the stirring flavors and revives some of the qualities that may have been initially locked away. It takes a moment for the complete body of Tiramisu to register with your pallet. I have to crack these frosted boulders in hopes of retrieving their dormant decadence. I braced for a fierce storm, but found little renaissance in terms of aroma when I dare sunder the flower. Perhaps a light gassy accentuation in terms of a damp herbal pine dart.

The highlight of Tiramisu’s beauty is the jacket of glistening resin it wears proudly. Fully formed, milky trichomes swarm every available ridge of the foliage. The sparkling extremists use their globulous heads to accentuate the natural color of Tiramisu to blistering vividness. A stark contrast exists on the face of this verdant planet. A salad of strained pear and bludgeoned moss occupy a portion of the flower, but the majority has been overcast by an unwavering plum shadow. Luminous tangerine hairs carefully comb the surface of the bud. The fragile tendrils dangle freely like so many bulbs from an angler fish. I am helpless to their allure. The buds build up to considerable bulk, each petal has been concreted together by the bountiful resin production. The dense nugs squeal out with a light crunch netted across a fresh squish, reassuring me of the quality cold-cure provided. While these ambitious flowers do seem to aspire to become large and leafy, they are grounded by their indica-dominant design.

Leaf to flame, a slick of sappy sugar is cast across my tongue. The sucrose path is then set ablaze, caramelizing the savory sugar atop my tastebuds. A strong gasp of afghani is released from the burning billows. A light berry expanse blossoms amongst the combustable muck. In hopes of quelling the building ferocity of the afghan embers, a creamy compatriot steps in. It pumps its vigor into the sullen sweetness, rebuilding it stronger than ever before. The earthen cream stirs with the uplifting sweetness, coaxing out a blunted vanilla kiss. During the age of cream, a tender, tangy sour is allowed is surface, this tenacious rebel proves to be gassy at times. Once the forgiving tide of foresty vanilla recedes, I am left with a stern, herbal, peppery kiss. This note and the molten afghani molasses are all that remain with time.

I feel a familiar warmth crawling across my face. I forfeit control to the ethereal mask, intrigued by what perspective it has to offer. I feel this ghostly grip firm up across my skin as if it was attempting to merge with my mind. I do not resist, as this transference occurs, provides an immense amount of pleasure to my brain and skull. I feel as if I am being drowned in a sea of euphoric cement. My mind isn’t silenced, but awestruck by the willful physical advance of Tiramisu. As the mask merges with my self, I feel a pressure building in my temples as if I’m about to sprout horns. This would normally be nerve-wracking, but any spawning anxiety is instantly crushed under the weighted realm of relaxation discoverable in Tiramisu. I have no ambition to move, think, or dream; my only desire is to drown in the intense suite of physical pleasures provided. I feel like I’m a rock formation, standing a lone spire out on the coast, pummeled by the tumultuous sea. Invisible waves of pleasure rush over me from all directions, each further battering me into blissful allegiance. I am started by how quickly I was entombed in the pleasure of Tiramisu, but every step I take further down proves to be ever more rewarding. There are no clear limitations or boundaries to this high. I feel like this is a sensation that would compound wildly if you were to enjoy it consistently over a day period. There is very little diminishing return in this dimension.

“Who’s House?! Nug’sss House!” House of Cultivar is always pushing the envelope with next level genetics and the care they provide to the plant after they chop it down. That last 10% of the workload makes the largest difference, in my opinion. Tiramisu is tender, sweet, and unearths savory ‘dirty’ qualities that are uncommon these days. Between the resplendent display, rich flavor, and boundless high…there isn’t anything not-to-love. I can’t wait to review another one of their potent strains tomorrow! As always, thanks for reading.

Tiramisu Total Score: 82/100 points

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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