Cohiba Lanceros

Description

Product Specifications

He didn’t say a word, just pushed it across the table as though we were exchanging state secrets.” Inside were a few long, skinny pretty sticks with that classic pigtail cap. He’d said he got it from a friend in Havana, someone who worked behind high walls of the yellow mansion I’d only ever seen in books. He didn’t have to name them. I knew the silhouette.

There is a gravity to a moment like that. You’re not just smoking; you are indulging in a dose of history that a few years ago was still restricted to heads of state and the sort of folks who don’t need to check their bank accounts. I still recall the smell of the room — moist earth, cool pine, and then, as I struck the match, that distinctive scent of good Cuban leaf. It was a conspiracy, nearly an illicit one: to wait here in the shadows of Blue Ridge peaks holding this shard of Cuban lore.

It was not a matter of bling and gold band; it was the confidence of quiet in a cigar that needs no garsa to be strong in your face. That smoke? The
Cohiba Lanceros
. It’s the original.

The one that launched the great Cohiba frenzy way back in ’66 when it was a private blend for Fidel. If you’ve ever wondered why people go so bonkers over a bunch of rolled leaves, this is the stick that generally offers the answer. Construction
Hand Rolled (Totalmente a mano) Long Phase (Tripa larga)
Construction and Feel
Gotta tell you, palming a Lancero feels different than gripping those 54s that seem to be ubiquitous today.

It seems a bit fragile, delicate even, but there’s also something of an underlying hardiness to it that re-assures you the rollers at El Laguito definitely know what they’re doing. The wrapper tends to be a light, oily tan — color-wise, it’s reminiscent of a well-worked saddle leather. It is sweet and smooth to the touch, with very few veins on the leaves which you would expect given these are “the selection of the selection” of leaves from Vuelta Abajo province. The pre-light draw on my stick was a little tight, which will be the “danger zone” for this vitola.

As it’s so thin and long, when the roller is in a bad mood, essentially you’re smoking a pencil. But this one? It had just enough resistance. I detected cold hay notes, a little barnyardy musk and very faint sweetness — maybe honey that had been in the cupboard too long.

That pigtail cap isn’t just a flourish; it’s a reference to the tradition of this stick. I clipped carefully, careful not to pop the crown off, and the airflow was quite solid. Ready for the flame. The First Third: The Grass Greeting
The first couple of draws are always the most revealing.

With a Lancero, the wall of smoke isn’t there; it’s more like your being introduced. The first profile is about as “Cuban” as you can get with plenty of cedar and that grassy, hay buzz since it’s a Cohiba. But there’s a sweet layer of honey underneath that ensures the texture never feels too dry. I also detected some white pepper on retrohale, but it was very mild.

It was more of a tingle, an awareness that there’s some ligero leaf hiding out in that slender little body. What I love about these 10 first minutes is the smell. It’s floral and herbal, like a walk through a field after a light rain. It’s not a “room note” that will offend people; it’s sophisticated.

The burn was impressively even for such a long vitola, but I’ve learned the a little too well that you can’t rush a Lancero. Blow too fast and it overheats, turning bitter. You have to play it like a conversation with an old slow-talking friend. You listen, you wait and you allow the flavors to arrive.

The Sweet Spot: The Second Third
Stepping into the middle of the stick, the “triple fermentation” really made itself known

.

For those of us who don’t know, Cohiba takes their seco and ligero leaves and foments them another round in barrels. I’m telling you, you can feel it, in the texture of the smoke. It becomes creamy. The opening grassiness started to dissipate as the new caramel and a touch of milk chocolate took over.

Now the Lanceros does get interesting. Most cigars seem to get darker as they burn away, but this one looked for a moment like it got lighter. On the retrohale I detected a tanginess of sorts — it reminded me of a twist of lemon or orange zest. It’s a strange sound for something that should go in your cigar, granted, but it works.

It breaks through the cream of the mocha notes and keeps your mouth alert. I was sitting in that cabin, watching the snow coming down outside and thinking to myself that this cigar was doing a better job of warming me up than did the fireplace. It’s medium-bodied at the moment but the complexity is through the roof. You’re drinking nuts, coffee and that lasting honey in one gulp.

The Final Third: The Deep Dive
The power moved up just a bit more by the time I reached the last third

.

It never gets all the way to “full,” but it certainly crosses into the medium-full freight zone. The flavors turned deeper, more rustic. That means espresso beans, dark vanilla and a deep earthy note that for some reason conjured the dirt in a greenhouse for me. That citrus element earlier, turned into something closer to tamarind — sweet but with poignancy.

The smoke was cool nearly up until I was burning my fingers. That’s a good sense of lifestyle, plus the mark of being well-made Laguito No. There’s an ever so slight pepper tingle that comes back at the very end, but by then it’s enfolded in so much cream and cocoa that it never bites you. I ended up nubbing this thing and I just couldn’t hold it.

And it’s a long smoke — I think you’re going to get a good 60 to 90 minutes out of this if you do it correctly, but at no point did it feel like it was dragging on. Every inch yielded something a little different. Pairing Recommendations
Sure, you could serve this with tons of things, but don’t choose something that’s going to stomp all over the nuances.

A heavy, peated Scotch? Weigh that for another day. You’ll lose all that citrus and honey.”
The Purist’s Choice:
Black, strong Cuban coffee in a cup. No sugar.

Nothing else does the caramel sweetness in the second third of the cigar justice than its bitter coffee.

The Diplomat’s Choice:
A tumbler of aged rum — say, Havana Club 7 or a good Ron Zacapa. The molasses in the rum is