Cohiba Coronas Especiales

Description

Cohiba Coronas Especiales Review

The View from the 42nd The B-Day Cohiba Corinthians Coronas Especiales

The wind up here on the 42nd floor does not give a shit about my birthday. It’s howling through the glass partitions of this rooftop bar, screaming through the empty chairs and causing the amber drink in my glass to ripple like a tiny tide. I visit this place annually on this day. It’s a tradition I began when I had less hair and fewer regrets.

Product Specifications

I’m usually breaking bread with someone, but also empty are a table and seat across from me. It’s one of those bittersweet markers where you start to feel like you have more stories behind you than in front. I peered down at the lights of the city — thousands of tiny glowing gems strewn across the velvety darkness of streets — and experienced that familiar pang, each point a pinprick in my heart. Ever had one of those moments where the world is wayyyy too much and you are just juuuust enough not a thing?

I had to have something that lashed me. Something that wasn’t rushed. I didn’t crave a fat, chunky cigar that was like holding a roll of quarters. I wanted something lean, something that seemed like it would fit into a room full of tuxedoes and whispered secrets.

I fished around in my travel humidor, and pulled out a long thin elegant stick that I had been saving for exactly this kind of night. That smoke? The

Cohiba Coronas Especiales. It’s not just a cigar, it’s a slice of the past that reposes neatly between your fingers.

The Specs
Wrapper/Binder/Filler
Vuelta Abajo, Cuba
Weight
8.15 grams
Building: The Art of the Lean

I’ll tell you, there’s something about a 38 ring gauge that feels right.

In a world where everyone seems to be chasing 60-ring gauge monsters that look as if they should be fueling a steam engine, the Coronas Especiales is a reminder of how things used to be. It’s the Laguito No. 2 vitola, sib to the famous Lancero, and it has that air of “I know what I’m doing.”

I put it to the weak light of the roof. The wrapper was a beautiful reddish-brown, slightly reminiscent of an old leather chair that’s been subjected to several spilled shots of scotch. It gleamed with a little oil and the light of the moon reflected off it, and that familiar inverted pigtail cap — which they called perilla — was perfectly wound.

I’ve always felt the triple cap on these to be an indication of real craftsmanship. It felt solid in my hand. Maybe a little too solid if I’m being honest. Do you ever get that “Cuban anxiety” the night before a factious reveal where you’re all your friends are like, “Oh yea?

Then prove it!” Yeah, I felt that. Yet the pre-light draw was quite good, offering me notes of dry hay some old cedar as well. It is lightweight, at around eight grams, so it feels heavy in the hand like a thick pen. I cropped the pigtail with care—didn’t want to mess up the flow—and lit up the foot.

The scent burst forth, immediately filling my tiny section of the balcony. Flowery but woody, unquestionably a Cohiba. The First Third: A Walk in the Woods

First few puffs were like talking to an old friend who doesn’t need to scream

.

It began with a very distinct mineral, earthy taste. I mean that “after-the-rain” smell, with a little bit of almond plus what I’ve come to refer to as “old wood” — the type of scent you’d find in a library that hasn’t been dusted since 70s. It wasn’t assertive; it was smooth and medium-bodied. I had a long retrohale, and that’s when the magic happened.

I tasted light, sweet coffee and a hint of milk chocolate. The finish was a subtle hint of molasses and white pepper that tingled the back of my throat. It was elegant, man. No other word for it.

It didn’t smack me in the face, it just sat down next to me and begin telling a story about that Vuelta Abajo region. You can taste that third fermentation they do to the Seco and Ligero leaves. It eliminates the “green” roughness you can find in less expensive sticks, and substitutes a lush, rounded texture. The Sweet Spot: The Second Third

Enter the second third and my birthday blues films are all lifted.

A cigar found its niche. There was less mineral, and a stronger woody spiciness. I was getting more of that traditional Cuban hay and grass, but it was offset by increasing creaminess. The retrohale evolved too.

The milk chocolate became more of a vanilla bean variety and the coffee notes grew slightly darker, like a well-pulled espresso. I also got notes of toasted almond, which was kind of … alright. The draw was fine; the smoke output was good, but it had some flaky ash — not unexpected given its thinner ring gauge. I had to make sure not to leave it lying on my coat.

The burn wasn’t great; I had to touch it up once because the wind on this rooftop was not being kind, but the cigar stayed cool. That’s the thing with these Panetelas: You can’t be puffing away on them like you’re attempting to extinguish a fire. You gotta sip them. If you abuse them by overheating, they turn bitter, but if you treat them with respect, they reward you.

The Final Third: The Deep End

Halfway into the swim, the city below went silent.

Strength increased, tapping out that medium-full level. The flavors became deeper and more “serious.” That mineral earthiness really came back with a vengeance, but this time it was married to a note of salted peanut and something that reminded me both of a rum cask (sweet, oaky and ever so slightly boozy). The retrohale changed to dark chocolate and coffee beans. The vanilla was no more; in its place stood the burlier, leathier toasted nuts.

It was a complicated finish, which stayed on my palate long after I stubbed out the nub. It did not get soft or hot at the end, a tribute to the construction at the El Laguito factory.

They’ve been at it since 1, and the process shows no signs of growing rusty. It’s a refined way to finish a smoke, and leaves you feeling sated but not bombarded. The Pairing: What to Sip?

In honor of the bittersweet mood, and the birthday tradition I was observing, I ordered a neat pour of a 12-year-old Cuban rum. The rum’s sweetness paired marvelously with the cacao and vanillas in the cigar. And if you’re not a rum person, I’d suggest you might go with a light Highland Scotch, or perhaps even a creamy café au lait. You don’t want anything too peaty or heavy that’s going to drown out the subtle tones of the Laguito No. 2.

It’s a fine line you gotta walk with this cigar; don’t use a sledgehammer. The Verdict
Is the Cohiba Coronas Especiales for everyone?

Probably not. If you’re looking for a “nicotine bomb” that’ll blow the back of your head off, look elsewhere. This is not the cigar you will puff thoughtlessly while mowing the lawn. This is a smoke for contemplation.

It is for rooftop bars, for milestones and for those nights that make you remember why you fell in love with tobacco to begin with. I have to say, a bit of flaky ash and somewhat tight draw or not, it’s a hell of an experience. It feels proprietary because it is. It’s a link back to 1, to the first blend made for Castro, and back in time when cigars were less about girth than grace.

It’s an elegant smoke that takes your notice and rewards you with a deep, changing profile of flavors that the vast majority of modern cigars can’t measure up to. After I crushed the nub into the ashtray, I felt slightly more optimistic about the year to come. The bittersweetness was still there, of course, but the Coronas Especiales made it feel considerably more like a party. It’s a classy cigar that is to be smoked for (or at least smoking in the hopes of) an occasion.

Final Thought:

If you come across a box of 25 with a few years’ worth of age, the time to grab those would be now.

These are things that have endless aging power; they only grow smoother the more vintage they become. Just like some of us, I hope.