Perhaps it’s my midwestern roots preferring the understated over the maximalist.
Perhaps it’s my love of Trailer Park Boys and Bubble’s classic “Deeeeeeeeeeeeecent!” expression.
Whatever it is, there’s something about the Super Boof strain (aka Blockberry) that has captured my attention and suckered a new strain review out of me.
Woe am I, right?
To “Boof” something, in the more commonly used adjective form, means “to ram up your arse,” and in the cannabis realm, the term itself is more frequently used to denote cheap, crappy, and/or potentially fake weed.
Because many states legally require all flower to be pre-packaged, that has opened the door to unscrupulous counterfeiters who sometimes sell low-tier, old, degraded, or potentially improperly grown bunk, or rather “boof.”
As such, naming a strain you intend to sell SUPER boof means it’s got to be at least moderately legit, because you’re using a negative (ironically) as a positive, and that’s usually reserved for something decently solid.
What IS Super Boof?
Many a cannabis cultivator seems to love irony and puns (see my “how strains get their names” post for more detail), and it appears that strains like Puppy’s Breath, Garlic Drip, Cheetah Piss, and, as we have here, Super Boof are proving that with their rising popularity.
Shit, Super Boof itself even won Leafly’s notorious “Strain of the Year 2024” award.
Sure, some of it may be simple marketing tricks designed to grab your attention and not let go, but from a creative, artistic perspective, I’m all for it. Why not have a little fun with nomenclature, eh?
I personally stumbled upon ‘le boof on an annual holiday re-up mission at Oregrown’s Portland location, in which I intended to get stocked up for the next month at least, which meant replenishment of tincture/syrup (hello Magic Number), some eddies (Good Tide FTW), and of course, some top-shelf flower.
I haven’t smoked much from Lofty Growers outside of their fantastic Humboldt Breath, although I am very well acquainted with the parents of this here Super Boof, those being specifically Black Cherry Punch and (drumroll)…Tropicana Cookies!
It’s worth noting that Super Boof is itself just a phenotype of the older Blockberry strain, so if you’re at your dispensary and can’t find Le Boof but see some Blockberry, then you’re still in luck.
Where’s My Candy Fruity Strain Gang At?
Variety is, without a doubt, the spice (or herb, in this case) of life, and I FIRMLY believe it is healthy to regularly try a diverse smattering of weed types to continually refine your weed palate.
This means yes, even you, old boomers and cannabis veterans, with a well-established personal “top 5,” “top 10,” or “top 9” strains list that you’ve ranked over decades of experience.
Even the wisest of elders still stand to benefit from trying out some of the new stuff once and a while, if not just to keep up to date on where the industry is today.
IMO, both heirloom genetics AND new creative “hype” innovations are equally deserving of our attention.
For example, when the mood does strike, I’ll very much enjoy an explosively gassy sativa just as much as I’d enjoy dark, dank, twangy, tree-root-smelling kushy mother fucker (in a good way).
Smoking some ’79 Skunk last summer was a downright revelatory experience, just as unforgettable as my first puff of Trichome Farms Black Widow strain.
That said, when I listen to the sound of my heart, there is one true love that rings clearer than them all: fruity strains.
No contest, hands-down, for me personally, when your dank has got that fruit, all other arguments are moot!
By all means, go ahead and disagree with that; I can respect the fact that we all like different things.
Some people love endlessly repetitive Marvel movie clones; others haven’t been to the theaters in years. It’s a free country, and we’re all entitled to enjoy what we please.
Black Cherry Punch, Tangie, Purple Punch, Strawberry Gucci, Trop & Cherry, Terple, Tropicana Cookies, Squirt, Mimosa Point Break, Tang Breath, Fruity Pebbles, Island Sweet Skunk, Trop Fire Breath, Unicorn Poop.
These are the type of fruity strains that quicken the pulse in my veins, for their aromas are as enchanting as their effects are cognitively enhancing.
I still like a bit of gas on occasion, and there’s something about a good GMO and Oregon winters that seem to complement each other.
But, look, there’s just something about fruity strains that inevitably pulls me into writing overly verbose reviews and tacky poems that should prove that I honestly do think they’re the bee’s knees, shins, AND toes!
This quarter-ounce of Super Boof I’ve got has frosty little buds shedding trichomes like a tree in late fall.
After grinding it up in my 4-piece Santa Cruz, there’s literally a little pile of kief sitting in my grinder every time, making bowls and joints all the more potent.
Trichomes cover these nugs almost like spider webs, obscuring their brilliant greens, only to be penetrated by the long, thick, burnt-orange colored stigma, of which there are many.
Before smoking, there is a lot to read in terms of the flower’s appearance, one of many reasons deli-style dispensing is superior to pre-packaged.
Appearance: Trichome’d The Fuck Out Yo!
The nugs on this batch of Super Boof aren’t huge and have a prototypical popcorn-y, knobby bud structure like Tropicana Cookies.
In this Super Boof plant, however, the flowers are a little narrower and longer, rather than the chicken-foot-esque, more chonky expression of the Tropicana Cookie parent.
The shades of green are pretty light, and the buds are not particularly hairy or vary much from the dominant green hue.
But it’s here where I’m running headlong into an undeniable cliche because there’s no other way to describe how goddamn frosty these bastards looked. It’s this frost that dominates the color palette of this here Super Boof.
Not to be a total geek about it, but this shit under magnification with bright lighting above might actually blind you. You’ve been warned..
I think it’s fair to say that what Super Boof lacks in the sheer size of its bud structure, or variety of colors, it more than makes up for in the sheer amount of diamond dust coating these little trains that could.
It is fair to say this stuff is conservatively shaped while also being blinged the fuck out.
But the appearance isn’t where this flower excels IMO.
No, sir/ma’am; it’s the smell and sensation where things start to really get exciting with the mighty Super Boof.
Smell: Taking Straight Pixie Sticks To The Dome Son
My budtender at Oregrown kindly opened the jar, then gave us a brief fan full of the heavenly fart of the gods—the candy-sweet aroma emanating from these nugs, the divine marriage of the juicy Black Cherry Punch and candy king in Tropicana Cookies.
This pairing was an “arrangement of the divine” on the same elite scale as whoever learned to combine peanut butter and chocolate or pie and cheese.
If you love fruity strains, honestly, you don’t really need to read any more of this review; you can get this stuff, and you’ll be happy, I promise.
If reading about this sexy little specimen is turning you on, though, and you want to take things to the next level, please continue, as things only heat up from here.
If you can recall from your youth the joy of ripping off the top of a fresh Pixie Stick, when sometimes a little bit of the aerosolized (atomized?) particles of sugar powder wafted up into your nostrils, or if you ate those Rip ‘n Dip dipsticks and smelled similar smells, well, Super Boof is like that, …plus weed.
What I’m trying to say here is this shit literally smells like candy, yo!
Obviously, not condoning anyone under age smoking, but as a child of the ’80s, these powdered, fruit-flavored sugar candies are immediately brought to mind when I smell this beautiful Super Boof.
Bravo Blockhead Budz, Bravo.
It’s precisely because strains like this exist that I turn my nose up to artificially flavored rolling papers and wrappers.
There’s just no need when you can get such amazing terpene expressions from the plant itself.
The light, approachable sweet Tangie notes from the Tropicana Cookies are still there, not diminished, but enhanced by the aggressive, deep black cherry and ripe grape notes of the Purple Punch grandparent found in the Black Cherry Punch.
The sparkling, fruity nature of this plant makes it great for waking and baking, in my opinion, as well as for beginners who may be intimidated by other, more gassy or earthy-smelling strains. Super Boof just wants to be everyone’s friend.
The ONLY negative in this whole experience which is entirely on me and not the dispensary or grower, is I waited over three months after harvest to get this stuff, meaning the flower was a bit dryer and crispier than I personally prefer.
Being a devout flavor chaser, I prefer my nugs as moist as possible. If the flower is too dry, I can’t help but wonder how much more vibrant the flavor would have been three months ago, when it was fresh out of curing.
The fact that this is the ONLY negative I have for this flower, and I’m still sucking its dick hard, proves that these are just well-cultivated plants with quality genetics, plain and simple.
Normal-ish tier (aka “mids”), but this dryness would honestly detract quite a bit from the experience.
Seriously, when I ground it up and opened my grinder, it looked like I was staring at Mt. Hood from the top, super high in the sky, a little green mound with a snow-covered peak.
Yes, there was so much trichome shedding that its collective creamy white color was noticeable enough to contrast with the actual chlorophyll-tinged plant matter.
This crystalline beauty is a kief-shedding machine. You’re going to get trichomes everywhere when handling these things, including leaving your finger feeling like you’ve just eaten a whole bag of powdered-sugar mini-donuts, and it’s fucking fantastic.
If you’ve made it this far, then you’re likely not a THC percentage nazi, and I can comfortably share this batch of Super Boof’s THC percentage with you without anyone going insane educating me on why that dOeSn’T mAtTeR bRO!
Tested at Pree Labs, an OLCC-licensed and ORELAP-accredited reputable testing facility, this Super Boof backs up its “super” modifier testing in at 33.19% THC.
This percentage is NOT something I doubt at all when I look at the pile of frosted bud in my grinder. Even if it is inflated by selective sampling during testing, I really DGAF because it smokes a gem, and that’s all I really care about.
But alas, we’re all sophisticated tokers here, and we know that smell, while important, is not the whole story.
The smell is a strong indication of what’s to come, but what we all REALLY care about is how the high itself is.
Come On, Friend, Taste The Rainbow With Me
Super Boof made me happy, and it did so on a day when I was feeling particularly gloomy for many reasons beyond my control.
We’re talking family health problems, multiple canceled flights, refund attempts… the whole shebang.
This means my baseline mood state was already rather negative, meaning this strain needed to do some heavy lifting if it were to elevate me properly.
And heavy lifting it did.
To make an impression, you need something unique and memorable. Not only is the fruity vibe of the famous Skittles commercials reflected in Super Boof’s smell and flavor, but the entire experience stands out in my mind as one I might remember for a while.
If commercial pop culture isn’t your thing (don’t worry, it’s not really mine either), then perhaps in an auditory sense, if this strain were a song, I think this one would capture its essence of Super Boof fairly well:
In fact, I listened to this song at least thrice in a row while writing this review because, like a tumbler lock, the auditory and sensory pins were aligned all right so that a door in my mind opened, brother, I swear.
I smoked this up, mostly rolled in Raw Classic Black and Raw Organic Hemp papers, but also ripped a few bowls’ worth in the old water pipe.
The fruit flavor transferred nicely. Not artificially enhanced with exogenous terpenes or anything crazy like a flavored blunt, but still has a very fruity dry pull and exhale for an additive-free product of nature.
The onset of the high is linear and predictable. You won’t suddenly find yourself high as fuck, not remembering how you got there or how long you’ve been that way.
Nope, Super Boof walks right up to you, looks you in the eye, shakes your hand, and introduces herself with confidence.
Super Boof’s the bad-bitch international businesswoman who actually knows which trending clubs in multiple European and Asian megacities are open at any given time.
Super Boof’s friend is a DJ, and they both love Chance by Chanel and MDMA (recreationally).
Okay, yes, we’re getting off-topic here. Sorry. Super Boof is NOT in ANY way directly comparable to Moll; the analogy just got a little out of hand.
Forgive me; I write these reviews high on the weed I’m reviewing (for maximum authenticity), and as such, I sometimes get a bit carried away.
Overall, this is a very “uplifting” and approaching “euphoric” high that ramps up predictably and then stays linear, like a pastel-colored birthday balloon hanging out up by the ceiling, looking down on the active party, relieved to be removed from the action while still enjoying the music.
As such, while you COULD socialize high on Super boof, I do believe it would be hard to conceal that you’re blazed.
Not only does it have the heft from the rich terpene profile, it also tested in at over 33%, so, yeah, but you’re also going to get distracted.
Ultimately, this weed took what was a stressful day, including an intense hour at the gym, and made it light, pleasant, and fun, and I think that mood is reflected throughout the plant.
The knobby, slender, spindly buds are elegant. Like a timeless women’s perfume, the smell is light, fresh, and sweet (is that Chanel you’re wearing?). The sensation captures the confident, warm, calm that pervades the experience and underwrites the memory as a positive one.
I’m thankful to have discovered another farm in Lofty Growers that produces not only terpene profiles that my cannabinoid system vibes with but also cultivates these profiles in gorgeous plants that are allowed to reach their fullest potential.
If you haven’t heard of Lofty, check out some of their art on Instagram, and, of course, if you see them at your neighborhood dispensary, make sure to give them a try—they’re another stellar farm out of Eugene producing truly stellar bud.
But what do you think? Have I enticed you enough to try yet another Trop strain? Do you think Super Boof is deserving of its fame? Why or why not?
Let us know in the comments below!
