Description

The Long Shadow of Havana: A Night with the Cohiba Siglo V

I remember the humidity more than anything else. It wasn’t that sticky, oppressive heat you get in the States during August. It was different. It felt like a warm, wet blanket that smelled of salt spray, diesel exhaust, and old limestone. I was sitting on the balcony of the Hotel Nacional in Havana, watching the waves of the Atlantic crash against the Malecón. It was our tenth anniversary. My wife had finally gone inside to escape the breeze, but I stayed out there. I needed a moment. I needed to sit with my thoughts and a glass of seven-year-old Havana Club that was disappearing faster than I cared to admit.

I reached into my travel humidor and pulled out something I’d been saving for exactly this kind of silence. It wasn’t a short, fat trend-chaser. It was long, slender, and looked like it belonged in a black-and-white movie. I’ve always felt that some cigars are for parties, and some are for conversations, but a few—the rare ones—are for contemplation. I clipped the cap, felt the give of the tobacco under my fingers, and realized I wasn’t just holding a bunch of leaves. I was holding thirty years of history and a whole lot of expectations.

That smoke? The Cohiba Siglo V. And I gotta say, it’s a hell of a way to mark a decade of marriage.

The Specs

Before I get into how this thing actually treated me on that balcony, let’s look at what we’re dealing with. The Siglo V isn’t your average smoke; it’s a Dalias, a vitola that demands a bit of respect before you even strike a match.

First Impressions: The Look and Feel

I’ve held a lot of cigars, but there’s something about a 170mm stick with a 43 ring gauge that just feels right. It’s elegant. It doesn’t feel like a club in your hand; it feels like a conductor’s baton. The wrapper on this specific Siglo V was a beautiful Colorado shade—a reddish-brown that looked oily enough to stain my fingers. I ran my thumb down the length of it, and it was smooth, with just a few fine veins that reminded me this was a natural product, rolled by hand at El Laguito.

You ever notice how some cigars feel “crunchy”? This wasn’t that. It had a supple, firm give. I took a pre-light draw, and I swear I could taste the barnyard. Not in a bad way, but that classic Cuban hay and sweet raisin. It was clean. The draw was exactly where I wanted it—not too loose like a straw, but with enough resistance to let me know I was going to have to work for it just a little bit. I spent a good five minutes just smelling the foot of the cigar before I even thought about fire. It’s part of the ritual, right?

The First Third: The Awakening

I lit it with a single cedar spill. I’m old school like that when I have the time. The first few puffs were surprisingly bright. I was expecting a heavy hit of tobacco, but instead, I got this incredible wash of citrus and honey. It was like someone had drizzled orange blossom honey over a pile of fresh-cut grass. It’s that signature Cohiba “grassy” note people talk about, but in the Siglo V, it’s refined. It doesn’t scream at you; it whispers.

About ten minutes in, the smoke started to get creamy. I’m talking thick, velvet-on-the-tongue creaminess. I started picking up notes of macadamia nuts and a very faint hint of white pepper on the retrohale. It wasn’t spicy, just… present. It reminded me of why this line was created in the first place. You know the history—back in ’92, they launched the Linea 1492 to celebrate Columbus. They were trying to fill the hole left when Davidoff stopped making their Chateau series in Cuba. You can tell they were aiming for sophistication over raw power. I sat there, watching the smoke drift toward the ocean, and I felt like I was in on a secret.

The Second Third: The Heart of the Matter

As I moved into the middle of the cigar—which takes a while, given this thing is nearly seven inches long—the flavor profile shifted. The honey stayed, but the grassiness faded into something much more substantial. I started getting hit with cedar and a deep, rich mocha. It was like the cigar was growing up as I smoked it.

There was this interesting ginger note that popped up around the halfway mark. It gave the smoke a bit of a “zing” that kept my palate from getting bored. The construction was solid; the ash was a light grey, holding on for about an inch and a half at a time before I tapped it off into the heavy glass ashtray. I noticed the strength was hovering right at a medium. It wasn’t making my head swim, but I definitely knew I was smoking a premium Cuban. The balance was what really struck me. Nothing was fighting for attention. The cedar, the earth, and that lingering vanilla sweetness were all just hanging out together, perfectly content.

I’ve heard guys compare this to the Partagás 8-9-8, and I see where they’re coming from, but the Siglo V feels… I don’t know, “cleaner” to me. It’s got a richness that feels more intentional. It’s the “special of the special” tobacco, as they say, and you can tell the extra fermentation they do at El Laguito actually does something besides just sounding good in a brochure.

The Final Third: The Grand Finale

By the time I got down to the last two inches, the sun had long since set, and the lights of Havana were twinkling in the distance. This is where a lot of cigars fall apart—they get hot, they get bitter, or they just lose their identity. Not this one. The Siglo V decided to go out with a bit of drama.

The flavors deepened significantly. That creamy mocha turned into a dark, roasted coffee bean. I started getting this savory richness that I can only describe as decadent red meat—salty, savory, and deep. There was a touch of cinnamon and more of that cedar, but the sweetness of the tobacco itself was the star. It never got harsh. I smoked it until my fingers were starting to feel the heat, and even then, I didn’t want to put it down. It’s a 90 to 100-minute commitment, and I enjoyed every single second of it.

Pairing: What to Drink?

Now, I was drinking Havana Club 7-Year, which is the local choice for a reason. The molasses sweetness of the rum plays perfectly with the honey and cedar of the Siglo V. But if I were back home in my library? I’d probably reach for a Highland Scotch—something with a bit of heather and honey, maybe a Dalwhinnie 15. You don’t want something too peaty; you’ll drown out the subtle citrus notes in the first third.

If you’re a coffee drinker, a simple café con leche is a solid bet. The creaminess of the milk mirrors the texture of the smoke. Just don’t go for anything too acidic. This cigar is all about balance, and you don’t want your drink to be the loudest person in the room.

The Verdict

So, is the Cohiba Siglo V worth the hunt? Because let’s be honest, finding these things isn’t exactly easy these days, and the price tag is enough to make your wallet flinch.

Here’s my take: If you’re looking for a “powerhouse” cigar to smoke while you’re golfing or distracted by a loud bar, don’t bother. You’ll miss everything that makes this stick special. But if you have a reason to celebrate—or even just a reason to sit still for an hour and a half—it’s a masterpiece of blending. It’s elegant, it’s complex without being confusing, and it has a way of making time slow down.

I’ve smoked a lot of the Siglo line, and while the Siglo VI gets all the glory because of its girth, I think the Siglo V is the true connoisseur’s choice. That Dalias vitola just delivers the flavor with more precision. It’s a gentleman’s smoke. It’s refined. It’s the kind of cigar that makes you glad you’ve stuck around for ten years of marriage—or anything else, for that matter.

I finally went back inside that night, the scent of cedar and honey clinging to my shirt, feeling a whole lot better about the world than I did when I sat down. That’s what a good cigar does. And the Siglo V? It’s a very, very good cigar.

Solid.