Description

The Long Wait and the Golden Hour: A Review of the Cohiba Robusto Reserva Cosecha 2014

I remember the day I put the torch down. It wasn’t because I stopped loving the leaf; it was a matter of principle, a bet I made with myself during a particularly rough patch in my health. I told myself I wouldn’t strike another match until I was back on my feet, back on the ranch, and feeling like the man I used to be. Five years. That’s a long time to stare at a humidor and wonder if the oils are still holding up. But there I was, sitting on the porch of the ranch house, the Texas sun dipping just below the horizon, painting the scrub brush in shades of burnt orange and deep violet. I’d just closed the biggest deal of my life, and for the first time in half a decade, I felt triumphant. My lungs were clear, my heart was steady, and my hand was reaching for a very specific black lacquered box I’d been saving for this exact moment.

You ever have one of those moments where the world just goes quiet? No phones, no cattle lowing in the distance, just the sound of your own breath. I cracked the seal on that box, and the smell hit me—that unmistakable Cuban funk, aged and refined. I didn’t want just any smoke. I wanted the one that had been waiting almost as long as I had. I wanted something that represented patience. I wanted the Cohiba Robusto Reserva Cosecha 2014.

That smoke? The Cohiba Robusto Reserva Cosecha 2014 isn’t just a cigar. It’s a statement. It’s what happens when you take the best tobacco in the world and tell it to sit tight for five years until it learns some manners. I sat there on my porch, cutter in hand, feeling the weight of the moment. I was back. And I had the perfect companion to celebrate the return.

The Specifications

Before I get into how this thing actually treated me, let’s look at the numbers. This isn’t your everyday Robusto you pick up at a duty-free shop. This is a 2014 harvest (Cosecha) that didn’t see the light of day until it had been aged for a minimum of five years. It’s part of that Habanos S.A. Reserva program where they pick one vitola and give it the royal treatment.

Construction: The Feel of Five Years

I gotta say, holding this thing is an experience in itself. You know how some cigars feel a bit “papery” or thin? Not this one. The wrapper is a gorgeous, oily Colorado shade—darker than your standard Cohiba line but not quite a Maduro. It’s got that silky sheen that tells you the oils have been preserved perfectly. I ran my thumb down the length of it, and there wasn’t a soft spot to be found. It felt dense, like it was packed with more tobacco than should physically fit in a 50-ring gauge.

The double band is what really gets you. You’ve got the classic Cohiba Taino head, and right below it, that silver and black Reserva band. It looks like it’s wearing a tuxedo. I used a straight cut, wanting to get the full profile of that Vuelta Abajo blend. The pre-light draw? Solid. It tasted like cold-brew coffee and old library books. There was a sweetness on the lips, almost like honey, but with a hint of something earthy underneath. I hadn’t even lit it yet, and I was already nodding to myself. This was the right choice for my first smoke back in the game.

The First Third: The Awakening

I toasted the foot slowly. You can’t rush a cigar like this. If you blast it with a triple-flame torch, you’re just disrespecting the five years of aging that went into it. I used a soft flame, letting the heat gently wake up those 2014 leaves. The first few puffs were a revelation. I’d forgotten how much “texture” a great Cuban can have. The smoke was thick, chewy, and immediately filled my palate with notes of roasted coffee beans and cedar.

It wasn’t aggressive, though. That’s the thing about the Reserva series—it’s got all the flavor of a full-bodied smoke but none of the “bite.” It was smooth as silk. About half an inch in, a distinct vanilla cream note started to emerge. It reminded me of the homemade ice cream we used to churn on this very porch when I was a kid. It was sweet, but balanced by a toasted nuttiness that kept it grounded. The burn line was razor-sharp, and the ash was a light, structural gray that didn’t want to fall off. I felt like I was winning all over again.

The Second Third: The Heart of the Matter

As I moved into the second third, the strength started to build, but it stayed firmly in that medium-to-full sweet spot. The cedar notes deepened into something more like oak—sturdier, more resonant. This is where the complexity really started to show off. I started picking up hints of almond and a very refined leather. It wasn’t “new car” leather; it was more like my favorite pair of broken-in work boots. It felt familiar, comfortable, yet clearly high-end.

What really impressed me was the transition. Some cigars are “linear”—they taste the same from start to finish. This Cohiba was like a conversation that keeps getting more interesting. The vanilla from the first third didn’t disappear; it just evolved into a richer, more spiced character. I’m talking nutmeg, maybe a little bit of cinnamon, but all wrapped in that “cashmere” smoothness the research mentioned. I found myself sitting back, watching the smoke curl up into the Texas twilight, and thinking that if I had to wait another five years for a smoke this good, I probably would.

The Final Third: The Grand Finale

Usually, when you get to the last couple of inches, things can get a bit hot or bitter. Not here. The 2014 tobacco showed its pedigree in the home stretch. The flavors intensified, becoming bolder and more “Cuban.” The earthiness came to the forefront—that rich, red soil of Pínar del Río. It was savory, spicy, and had a kick of black pepper on the retrohale that made my nose tingle in the best way possible.

The finish was long and creamy. Even as the nub got short enough to burn my fingers, I didn’t want to put it down. The spice stayed balanced against a lingering sweetness that reminded me of dark chocolate. It was a bold ending to a refined experience. I smoked it until it was nothing but a tiny ember, and even then, I considered getting a toothpick to finish it off. It was that good. No bitterness, no harshness—just pure, aged tobacco perfection.

Pairing: What to Drink?

Now, look, I’m a purist when it comes to a smoke like this, especially after a five-year hiatus. I didn’t want anything that would drown out the nuances of the Cosecha 2014. I went with a neat pour of a well-aged Highland Scotch. You want something with a bit of honey and heather to play off that vanilla cream in the cigar, but enough of a backbone to stand up to the leather and spice in the final third.

If you’re not a scotch person, a dark, aged rum would be killer. Something from Nicaragua or even a Havana Club 7-Year if you can get your hands on it. The molasses sweetness of a good rum would marry beautifully with the coffee and toasted nut notes. But honestly? Even a glass of sparkling water would do fine. The cigar provides enough entertainment on its own; the drink is just the backup singer.

The Verdict

I gotta be honest with you: this is a “special occasion” stick. With only 5,000 boxes out there, and the price tag they command, you’re not smoking this while you’re mowing the lawn or working on the tractor. You’re smoking this when you’ve got something to celebrate—or when you’ve finally come back from a long absence and need to remind yourself why you loved this hobby in the first place.

Is it worth the hunt? Absolutely. The Cohiba Robusto Reserva Cosecha 2014 is a masterclass in what aging can do for Cuban tobacco. It takes the legendary Robusto profile and polishes it until it shines. It’s smooth, it’s complex, and it feels like a reward in every puff. Sitting there on my porch, watching the stars come out over the ranch, I knew the wait was worth it. This wasn’t just a cigar; it was the taste of victory.

Final Thoughts: If you find a box, buy it. If you find a single, buy two. It’s a piece of Habanos history that lives up to the hype without needing to scream about it. Solid. Truly solid.

Rating: 98/100 (I’d give it a 100, but I need to leave room for the Gran Reserva when I close the next big deal.)