Cohiba Siglo VI

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A Miami Night’s Tale – A Cohiba Siglo VI Review
I was writing at this dinky hole-in-the-wall bar off Calle Ocho in Miami, that seedy sort of place where the neon sign flashing “Open” buzzes a little too loudly and the air smells of one part salt spray, another part gasoline, and 40 years’ worth of high-grade tobacco. It was a Tuesday, I think. I was on a solo vacation, one of those “find yourself” trips where you end up re-discovering all the ways you can be alone in a city filled with other humans. The humidity was doing that thing where it stuck to your skin like an old wool blanket, and I was sitting in a cracked leather chair staring at the ceiling fan lazily chopping through the thick atmosphere.

Product Specifications

To be truthful, I was a little nostalgic. Miami has a way of doing that to you.) It’s like a postcard from an alternate reality of the past that never fully existed. I dug into my travel humidor, reaching past some of the shorter sticks I’d grabbed for short strolls, when I came upon it. The girth.

The smoothness. I’d been saving this one for a time that felt momentous, but sitting there as the world whizzed past my pressed-cheek face in a streaky window, I realized “momentous” is just what we call “now” when you are actually awake to it. I drew it out, the yellow and black band catching the flickering light. It looked right.

It felt perfect for that room, that heat. That smoke? The
Cohiba Siglo VI
. It’s a beast of a stick, but it doesn’t scream at you.

It just sit there, weighty and secure, waiting for you to pull yourself together and start it. The
Construction: The El Laguito Touch
I’ve seen a lot of cigars in my day, and you can generally tell when something was rolled with just a little bit more care.

The Siglo VI is produced at the El Laguito factory, the same place they made cigars for Castro himself in a custom size back when. You can feel that history when you have it in your hands. They call the wrapper a “Claro,” and it is smooth. Not plastic as in a cheap trinket, but like the handle on a well-worn silk tie.

There were hardly any veins, only a pure leaf of tan that appeared almost edible. It was firm when I gave it a soft squeeze. Not quite soft spots, not precisely hollow points. It’s a ring gauge of 52, which is hefty.

When this size was first introduced in 2002, it was a monster. These days we have cigars the size of baseball bats, but the Siglo VI remains the “gold standard” for a 52+ ring gauge cigar. I secured the cap—a well done three-slider gladwrap job—and pre-lighted. It wasn’t wide open; it had that elemental Cuban resistance, as if you were drinking a thick milkshake through a straw.

I tasted cold hay, a little sweetness and something that made me think of an old wooden desk. Solid start. The First Third: The Awakening
I used a soft flame to start it up.

A blasted leaf like this doesn’t need to be given a triple-jet torch blast, you know; you just gotta wait. The initial few puffs had a good strong punch to them. I thought for sure it would be creamy from the word go, but instead it slapped me with some hits of white pepper and leather. It wasn’t aggressive, just… present.

It is like a firm handshake from someone who knows they are more important than you. That beginning heat became muted after about 10 minutes. The amount of smoke was impressive, (large white clouds, hanging heavy in the hot Miami air like ghosts). I began to get a honeyed sweetness on the finish.

It’s a strange feeling, pepper on the tip of your tongue and honey at the back of your throat — but it works. The burn line was straight as an arrow, which is great because sometimes these thicker Cubans can have a bit of a wonky nature if the roller wasn’t having a great day. This one was behaving. Second Third: Sweet Spot
I was loosened up by the time I reached the center of that stick.

The nostalgia that I’d been feeling earlier began to turn from “sad” to “grateful.” That is the power of a nice cigar, I suppose. The flavor turned a corner here. The pepper all but disappeared, overtaken by this amazing creaminess. If you’ve ever had buttered toast with a sprinkle of almond shavings on top, that’s what I was getting.

It was rich, but not heavy. I even observed the “extra fermentation” they refer to with Cohiba. They make the seco and ligero leaves undergo a third fermentation in barrels, and you can truly taste it in how smooth this is. No harshness; no youth (as in young) tobacco bite.

It just glides. I caught the shadow of coffee — not dark-roast but more cafe con leche from one of the stands outside. A little vanilla, a little nutty. It’s complicated, but it doesn’t seem to be working too hard.

It’s just being a Siglo VI. The Final Third: The Deep End
As I turned onto the finishing straight, the power began to increase.

It transitioned from a hearty medium to a nice, solid medium-to-full. The flavors got darker. The cedar emerged, and that opening leather note resurfaced but in a lower register — more like an old library book. I also picked up dark chocolate — the bitter kind, not the candy-bar kind.

Despite that I was getting down to the nub, the smoke remained cool. That’s what you want in a well-built Cañonazo there. Now, sometimes at the end these kind of asserts can get a little hot and bitter but I was able to smoke this down into where it was scorching my fingers. The finish was quite long and vegetal, it still had a bit of presence in my mouth that made me just want to sit there quietly for another twenty minutes after the cigar is finished.

Pairing: What to Drink?

From there I was in Miami, so I did the classic. I had a glass of 7-Year-Old Havana Club rum. The rums natural sweetness interacts perfectly with the cedar and spice of the Cohiba. If you’re not a rum person, a double espresso is the best call.

You want something with enough body to hold its own against the cigar but without being so boisterous as to drown out those fine honey and almond flavors. I’ve seen people pair ’em up with heavy peated scotch even, but I think that’s a mistake. You’ll lose the nuance. Less is more, keep it classic.

The Verdict
I must say, the Siglo VI is a commitment.

I took a good 90 minutes to make my way through it, and that’s not even rushing. This is not a cigar for the quick break; it’s a cigar for when you have something to think about, or when you want to stop thinking altogether. Is it expensive? Yeah.

Is it hard to find? Sometimes. But when you find a good one, it’s tough to beat. It’s not perfect—no cigar is.

The draw was a hair more snug than I traditionally prefer for the first five minutes, and these need time to age. If you smoke one of these right off the truck, it’s like flushing money down the terlet. Give it five years in the humidor and let it calm down, and then it is something special. Sitting in that lounge, watching traffic inch along on Miami streets, I knew I’d made t
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