Strawberry Bananas by H.O.C.

toasted n’ posted proudly presents…

Strawberry Bananas by House of Cultivar

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Strawberry Bananas by House of Cultivar

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we will be diving into another exotic strain. Tonight, we have Strawberry Bananas by House of Cultivar. This strain is a result of crossing DNA Genetics’ Crockett Banana Kush with a ‘strawberry’ pheno of Bubblegum. Both parents typically lean towards indica dominance, but strawberry terpenes usually find a way to turn that math on its head. I was a huge fan of House of Cultivar’s Honey Bananas, I wonder how this will stack up? Let’s burn it down.

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I leap towards the freshly unmasked jar! I toss myself into a bountiful fruity breeze. I surf along the glaze of a careful, tropical, aromatic curvature. I chase the tangy horizon along the candied coast as I crash into spirited waves of rich zesty herb which collapse into an riotous citrus foam. The nectar of the tide is derived of a chilled benign gummy sour. A mild gas of the tropics brews skittishly in the wake of the bulldozing banana curve.

Under the more playful identities of Strawberry Banana, lie a skunky lip on the cusp of the fragrance. The skunk kiss is occasionally lost across a concourse of luscious semi-stale mist. I feel as if I’d just leaped through a waterfall into a hidden cave. The dank hollow rock coughs out sodden island energy. On the floor of this succulent sanctuary is an intoxicating rounding sweetness similar to a heavily artificial vanilla or taffy. The resilient candied bounce is like a tropical edition of those old style ‘Candy Necklaces.’ I feel as if I was taken back to childhood; again racing to chomp off each individual candy bead. My haphazard conquest resulting in being ensnared in a mangled web of flexible chord, partially unfinished beads, and strings of saliva.

What Strawberry Banana has exhibited so far has been exciting; but I’m still convinced this light and playful aroma is harboring some demons. I gouge into the tender flowers and snap them under my nose. Only now does the strawberry influence truly begin to surface. Astounded by the lack of consequence for my assault, I relax my guard. This allows what started as a gentle trickle of strawberry to build into a lively rapid. Making use of surrounding allies the ever-so-fragile strawberry rebounds off of the strong banana buoyancy to enhance the reverberation of its pulpy echoes. The cave-dwelling mist also becomes agitated by my actions and is revived with a newfound vitality. The cave droplets hang like chilling stalagmites, occasionally crashing and disrupting the tender fluidity of Strawberry Bananas.

This strain mirrors the same smooth, yet bulky appeal of a banana. Even the color seems to influenced by its namesake to a certain degree; walking a line between lime and fern. The luster of this exaggerated alien green reminds me of a very ripe banana in transition. Forever caught in the moment of the fruit slowly finding its way backward from green to a desirable shade of yellow. The jacket of trichomes certainly aids with cementing this illusion, furthermore reflecting the tainted lemon light against the electrified green skin. The fickle verdancy functions a lot like a kaleidoscope, positioning itself differently depending on how the light hits it. Doubling-down on the banana comparisons, the color of the resin glands do actually appear to be soaked with a banana or daffodil hue. The sappy off-white glands stand tall, plastering every visible fiber of the flower in its psychoactive glory.

Snaking over the tomb of banana boulders are wispy tufts of stigmas. These hairs seem to exclusively travel in packs, regions of the flower seem polarized between entertaining rampant growth or desolation. Beaten apricot color defines the bulky stigmas as they weave into clumps of soft fire. Jutting out to match the roaming path of the hairs, are noble trichome encrusted shelves. The flower seems to be drawn out equally in every direction, poising itself after the silhouette of a cartoon ‘explosion!’ While certain shelves creep out to offer the misconception of ‘fluffiness’, a quick squeeze will affirm that Strawberry Bananas isn’t going anywhere. Sativa influence is in first appearances alone; as soon as I embrace this flower, I am met with considerable resistance and a thick resinous sap. The sticky secretion coats my fingers, making them impossible to free from the flower’s grasp. The structure of the buds seems to vary slightly; some are spherical like marbles and others are more aspirant of a sprawling sativa design. Whatever the order, Strawberry Bananas produces plump, leafy buds with considerable density.

Leaf to flame, I am rushed by a herd of moist, ferocious greens. A suppressing boggy damp honed by a chalky forest grit. Underneath the rolling revolt is the face of a kind compatriot. A minuscule door is propped open, just large enough to let out a trickle of charming, soft, strawberry mist. I sift through the strawberry fumes to find a basin of charred banana. This version of banana was peculiar, it forwent its sweet qualities in exchange for a charred bite and unwieldy milky girth. The note ultimately reminded me of friend plantains, an estranged cousin of my expectations. The formerly friendly bite heaves forth the roasted bodies of the consumed sugars.

 

Leaking out from the candied corpses is the dwindling sweetness from the razed sugars. Blooming from the fermenting pool is a smog of tongue-smacking tropical confectionary. The half-hearted revival lets out yelps of charred sweetness across a rocky hash. At times, I’m able to admire an inconsistent roasted wooden creaminess. The flavor shifts several times throughout each bowl, I suppose I would argue that the flavor quickly discards its fruity sweetness in favor of more abrasive traits. I certainly would’ve liked to enjoy the fragility of the fuzzy strawberry fumes a little more.

An assertive high grapples my face, I feel like my eyes are being shook awake. As I adjust to the lightning being injected into my eyes, I feel my forehead sink back into my head. I know that doesn’t make much sense, let me attempt to elaborate. If my skull was a convertible, it had just dropped the top. A welcoming brisk breezed tickles my naked brain. I shudder as I instinctually succumb to the whims of Strawberry Bananas. It was even kind enough to provide an invisible guard rail. I drunkenly heave myself against the unseen support system. I’m sent coasting along in a Mr. Magoo-esk fashion, immune to the commonplace dangers of the world.

 

My face is on fire with misaligning comfort. I couldn’t effectively tell you where my face is in this moment, my mind feels far separated from my physical form. I feel as if I’m watching myself teeter about from an astral plane. Peering in from a sliver between colliding dimensions. I could remain spiritually afloat like this forever. The vertebrae of my spine feel as if they were replaced by cubes of Jell-o. I bounce gleefully, fully reclining into the powerful realm of physical comfort designed by Strawberry Bananas.

While the hammering body high is certainly the focal point, there is a wild stimulating jolt of energy that is not to be ignored. If anything, it propels the madness encouraging you to further indulge in the boundless euphoria. I feel like a tag team wrestler that is constantly tagging myself in to do a signature move that never lands. Ring the bell and see how many rounds you can last against Strawberry Bananas.

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House of Cultivar never disappoints. I am impressed by how quickly the high asserted itself and the magnitude upon arrival. There are so many things to admire about Strawberry Bananas, however, the flavor leaves a lot to be desired. I would say that Honey Bananas is the stronger of the Cultivar Banana Kush crosses. Not to say that this strain is without its merits, it just didn’t feel complete. That being said, House of Cultivar’s worst day is still a leap ahead of many’s goals for 2020. As always, thanks for reading.

Total Score: 85/100 points

Stay high stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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