Bolivar Libertador LCDH

Description

I was standing against a wrought-iron railing on the roof of an Old Havana bar, but it could have been anywhere that stays warm after dark. It was one of those late nights when the noise of the city hums at a low frequency, many fathoms below your feet, and you are alone with whatever thoughts you have been avoiding all day. The atmosphere was subdued, almost weighted down with a particular brand of mindfulness that you don’t experience unless you stop rushing. I wasna seekin’ jist a shorty cutty, A twenty-minute smoke.

Product Specifications

Construction and Feel
Gotta say, the first thing you notice about the Libertador isn’t necessarily its heft—the sucker’s pretty good size (a 54 ring gauge), but not particularly girth-y—it’s the wrapper.

It’s dark, it’s oily, and it has that characteristic Cuban toothiness that lets you know the leaf took its time fermenting. In my hand, it felt solid. No soft spots, no weird lumps. It’s a Sublimes vitola, which is an obnoxiously baroque way of saying it’s a big fat cigar that’s going to suck up quite a bit of your evening.

What makes it an La Casa del Habano (LCDH) exclusive is the double band. You have the regular Bolivar band—stern face of Simón Bolívar himself—and then the additional maroon and gold LCDH band. It provides a little bit of a “special occasion” feel (but not too flashy). Before I even lit it up, I had a cold draw.

I got a whiff of dry leather, some citrus zest and a very specific scent of old tobacco warehouse. It is not just those extreme ends of the spectrum that I savor in this Cifuentes; the whole body of it has a scent that makes me glad for returning, like when I remember why I went to smoking Cubans at first. The draw was where I like it: just the right amount of resistance that tells you this thing is jam-packed with quality leaf, but not so tight that you’re scorching the wrapper trying to work for it. THE FIRST THIRD: OPENING SCENE
Once I toasted the foot and got it running, the first few puffs were unexpectedly mild.

Now, honestly, Bolivar is known as the “strongman” of the Cuban scene, but you know what?();?> Because LnC doesn’t start by punching you in the throat. Instead, I experience it as a very slow handshake. Thick and creamy smoke, straight off the bat. I mean it; clouds so thick you could carve your initials in them.

The first tastes I got were this blend of sweet citrus and a rich, sensual soil. It was “dirt” earth but more like mud after rain. I picked up flashes of caramel and some dark chocolate, which worked well with that citrus zing. It’s a little bit of a fruit spice opening, which I thought was interesting in terms of Bolivar.

Typically I would get a bit more spice up front but this was refined. It was heavy on the palate with a creamy, buttery feel to it that made me just want to slow down even more. I sat there on that rooftop a few weeks before, the smoke curling upward against the stars, and I remember thinking how just right it felt. It wasn’t straining for effect; it just was.

The Second Third: In the Groove
The second third was where the cigar really caught a groove for me.

Here, though, is where the “Sublimes” size has rewarded me. And there’s a lot of tobacco in that 54 ring gauge, so transitions are slow. You don’t merely slam into a wall of new flavor; you evolve through it. The sweetness on the front third began drawing away, leaving room for a more woody profile.

Cedar played too, but it was not dry cedar. It was rich, and had a spice rack I hadn’t anticipated either. I mean coriander, perhaps a hint of cinnamon and just little swipe of nutmeg. It’s a warm profile, like an old kitchen.

The creaminess never went away, and that’s what makes a good Cuban for me. Once that cigar loses its creaminess and goes strong, I’m done with it. But the Libertador did not blink. I could detect the strength nudging up a notch here, from a low medium to a touch past medium-full.

It’s the sort of transition that makes you want to know more, but not in an I-need-to-lie-down kind of way. I took a sip of my rum, and it felt as if the spice from the cigar reached out to grab onto the sweetness of the spirit and refused not to let go. Solid. The Last Third Interlude: The Big Man
By the time I got to the last third, the world outside the city below had gone hushed too.

But the Libertador was just beginning to stir. There were more cedar notes, and the spices had darkened. I was getting roasted coffee beans — the oily, dark kind — and a lot more of that leather I had sniffed out on the cold draw. Its finish turned crisp, almost sharp — but in a way that sluiced your palate clean rather than blanketing it with ash.

This is where the Bolivar DNA really kicks in. It gets bold. It gets serious. It is certainly at the “full” mark by this point, but it’s a subtle fullness.

It’s not bitter. As the nub got shorter and the heat inched closer to my fingers, the flavors held steady. I didn’t even get any of that “hot air” flavor you often get with crap cigars at the end. I kept smoking it to the point where I couldn’t hold in anymore, which generally indicates a good night for me.

It’s a long smoke — I timed out at roughly 95 minutes — but it never felt like a chore. Each puff had something to tell. Pairing Recommendations
If you’re smoking a Bolivar of this caliber, you cannot smoke it with something weak.

You want something with a spine that can square off against that Vuelta Abajo tobacco. Dark Rum:
My choice that night. A Ron Zacapa or Havana Club 7 that’s at least 12 years old. That molasses sweetness cuts the earthy spice of the Bolivar just right.

Espresso:
If you are smoking this during the afternoon, a double shot of Cuban coffee is your answer. The coffee’s bitterness enhances the chocolate and caramel in the first chevite. Peated Scotch:
If you like the “smoke on smoke” vibe, try a Lagavulin or Laphroaig. The medicinal peat pokes a playful game with the cedar and leather in the final third.

The History and the Rarity
Worth noting, I think there’s be a little background to this cigar. It didn’t just suddenly materialize in 2013 as an LCDH exclusive. Today in 2006, this was actually a Regional Edition for France. It was so well-received that Habanos S.A. decided to make it a permanent (if limited) addition for their La Casa del Habano shops.

After Simón Bolívar — the man who was instrumental in freeing large swaths of Latin America — the name “Libertador” has nothing to do with your Nissan Sentra. So it’s fitting that this cigar can only be found in LCDH shops, which began back in 1990 in Cancún. Those are the gold standard in Cuban cigars, and the Libertador is one of their jewels. It’s sold in boxes of 10, which I actually like.

It’s more exclusive, and it’s easier to rationalize hiding a box away in the humidor for a couple of years to see how they age. The Verdict
So, are the Bolivar Libertador wort