Cohiba 1966 Cabinet

Description

Vitola de Galera: Laguito No. 2 Petit BelicosoV/C Por Larrañaga Magnum (2011 UK RE)FACTORY CODE+DATE LGH MAY-11QTY RELEASED 2040APPEARANCE & CONSTRUCTIONThe wrapper of the cigar is a lovely pale rosado with natural medium veins and tight seams.

Product Specifications

I was on my porch at the ranch house out in the hill country, one of those nights when the Texas sky seemed to go on forever and look like someone had upended a bag of diamonds onto a velvet sheet. The air had begun to cool, smelling of dry cedar and the ghost of a mesquite fire I’d snuffed out hours earlier. I had just wrapped up a project that was making me eat my lunch for the past three months, rebuilding an antique flatbed on which I’d finally got that goddamned engine to purr without stuttering. It—this world torn at the seams by meanness, and reflexive cruelty — it was a victory for something like justice after all.” It turned out social media wasn’t ruining his evening; he’d won his race and the point is: How often do you win a showdown at that moment?

I wanted something to commemorate the occasion. Something that wasn’t just a fast burn before bed. I walked over to the travel humidor and swatted aside the daily drivers. My fingers touched a dark, oily wrapper that was as smooth as fine silk.

I’d had this stick in my back pocket, and I was waiting for a night where I could feel like we earned it. You ever have one of those? A red-hot cigar lying in the back of the box like a loaded gun, ready for its target? I took it out, felt the heft of it, and I knew.

This was the night for a bruiser. This was the night to see if all that talk lived up to the reality of a quiet ranch porch. That smoke? The
Cohiba 1966 Edición Limitada 2011
.

Some people may be seeking out a “Cabinet” version of it, but let’s set the record straight here: we’re describing the 45th-anniversary masterpiece that Habanos S.A. released in ­­­2011. It’s a monster of a cigar, and doesn’t say sorry about it. The Specs
Product Type
Cigar
Construction: The Handshake
I gotta say, the first thing you’ll notice when you pull this out of the cellophane — or box if you score the whole stash somehow — is the colour.

It’s a rich, fermented Maduro color, more of a deep espresso bean. It’s got that oily sheen that tells you the tobacco was treated with some actual respect. It’s firm, too. I gently squeezed from head to foot and no soft spots or “divots.” It felt substantial, like a well-constructed tool.

Are there some veins in the wrapper, certainly, but they’re good ones, maps on an old man’s hands. It’s not “perfect” in that plastic, machine-made way; it looks natural. It kind of looks like it sprung from the dirt in Pinar del Río, and this is just what I am looking for. I got my straight cutter out and snipped the cap.

The pre-light draw was perfect right out of the gate, not too light where you may as well be puffing on straw, and definitely not too tight like sucking a milkshake through a pin. I got notes of barnyard, wet earth, and a touch of dark cocoa before I had even lit the match. The First Third: The Introduction
I made it glow with just one torch and went in easy

.

You don’t rush a cigar like this. I got a few puffs of unexpectedly creamy smoke. GB I was expecting a face full with the dark wrapper but it started off smooth. What followed there was this immediate hit of espresso and a thick, earthy leather flavor.

And that’s the kind of smoke with some “weight” to it — you can almost chew this stuff. An inch in, there was some black pepper sneaking in on the retrohale. It wasn’t biting, though. It was more of a warm buzz somewhere near the back of the throat.

I sat back in my Adirondack chair, watched the smoke coil up to the rafters of the porch and felt that triumph from a day’s work begin to drift aside. The ash was a light grey and it hung on so tight as if it didn’t want to allow the cherry to go. Solid construction, for sure.

The Second Third: The Meat of the Matter
Here, as I got to the middle of the stick, the flavors began to change more rapidly — which is what you pay those big bucks for

.

That espresso note remained, yet it also got supplemented with a strong chocolate sweetness. Not milk chocolate or anything, but something closer to a 70-percent dark cacao. There’s even a hay-like quality in there as well, that type of Cuban-y “funk” smells that drag your nose right back to where this tobacco originated. I saw the strength levelning off here.

From medium it developed to a solid medium-full. It’s a canned profile; one puff is bitter cocoa and the next is a little of salted nuts. I didn’t need to touch it up a single time. The burn remained razor sharp despite a light breeze on the ranch.

It’s a reliable smoke. You’re not warring with the cigar; you’re just going on a ride. I thought about that truck engine again, and how there are some things that just require time and the proper ingredients to run as they should. This cigar is one of those things.

The Final Third: The Big One
When I reached those final couple of inches, the 1966 went on full display

.

The creaminess I enjoyed so much from the outset was almost completely gone, giving way to a more potent coffee and charred wood taste. But the kicker: At the last minute, I got these flashes of honey and vanilla. It is an odd contrast — heavy, dark earth tones combined with this gentle sweetness. It kept me guessing by the hour trucks were going out.

Generally, when a cigar is this short it’s likely to start tasting bitter, or “hot.” This one stayed remarkably cool. I smoked it down to the nub, when I couldn’t hold it anymore without searing my calluses. The room note — or in my case, the porch note — was rich and heavy. My dogs were sniffing the air as if they could smell that something magical was occurring.

It was a long smoke — it must have run to almost two hours — and that was exactly what I required for an evening’s meditation. The Pairing: What to Drink?

You could go a million different ways with this now. Sure, a bunch of guys will be like, ‘Go get yourself an old Port or some really upscale Scotch. Me? I kept it simple.

I poured myself a glass of neat bourbon — briefly trying to remember if the rye he’d sent me had legs enough to stand up to all that leather and espresso. The sweetness of the corn in the whiskey and the cocoa notes of the Cohiba played real nice. If you don’t drink, perhaps the right choice would be a thick black coffee. You’re looking for something that plays with the body of this smoke without obliterating it.

So don’t smirk at the idea of sipping on a light beer or a gin and tonic with this one; the cigar will simply beat any drink down into submission. The Verdict
Look, I’ve smoked a lot of cigars in plenty of places.

Some are little more than “sticks” — that is, something to do with your hands while you’re golfing or mowing the lawn. The Cohiba 1966 Edición Limitada 2011 isn’t that. It’s an event. It’s a reward.

It’s not a cheap one to buy, and finding them isn’t exactly as simple as it once was — but if you can find one and you’ve got something good to toast towards, well: You grab it. It’s got the complexity to keep an experienced smoker interested, but it’s balanced enough that it won’t destroy your palate. It feels good in the hand, it looks good in the ashtray and tastes like the best parts of a Brazilian tobacco field. Is it the best thing ever?

I don’t know about all that. But for a joyous evening on the porch of a ranch under a firmament full of stars, it was perfect. Solid. Real solid.

Final Thought:
If you find one, smoke it.

Don’t keep it aging in your humidor waiting for that “perfect” day that just may not arrive. Just light the goddamned thing and call it a perfect day.