H Upmann Magnum 48 LE 2009

Description

H.Upmann Magnum 48 Edición Limitada 2009 Review defaultMessageRegardless of whether a cigar is standing out right now, or if it has been on the market for some time, people are always looking to reevaluate cigars. It is the salt air that I remember most. It was thick and hanging, clinging to my skin like a damp blanket while I sat on the balcony of the Hotel Saratoga in Havana. Below me, the vintage American cars — the
almendrones
— clattered and hissed down the Paseo del Prado, engines exhaling blue smoke that mixed with the warm twilight.

The only cigars I had smoked were Cuban “cohebas,” which aren’t even officially available in the U.S. for five years. Five years of “clean living,” five years of walking by the humidor in my study and feeling that dull pang of nostalgia, five years of telling my wife that I’d kicked the habit for good. But Havana does funny things to a man’s resolve. I was there to commemorate a decade of a business partnership that had weathered more storms than the Florida Straits, and my friend Carlos had set down on the wrought-iron table between us a small, dark, oily stick.

He didn’t say a word. He simply thrust the cutter toward me. I eyed the secondary band, gold and black, the one which read
Edición Limitada 2009
. My hands shook a bit, in fact.

This was no mere smoke; this was a homecoming. I picked it up, sniffed that intense, fermented hay and cocoa smell and I knew the “quitting” days were officially over. I wasn’t just smoking a cigar; I was getting a part of myself back. That smoke?

The
H. Upmann Magnum 48 Edición Limitada 2009 Profile: The chocolates and moisturizer come to the palate first with a creamy meat flavour.
. It was the perfect thing for a man emerging from a long fast. It wasn’t a massive double corona that was going to kick me in my teeth, but it had that deep, complex maturity that informed me I was about to smoke something interesting.

The Specs
But before I tell you how this sucker treated me, let’s break down the vitals.

This is not your average production run/jose marti factory 🙂
Detail
Specification
Product Name
H. Upmann Magnum 48 Edición Limitada 2009 If you haven’t yet figured it out, I love the Pedroso Pedron concept of smoking two cigars at once, no matter who makes them. Factory Vitola
Magnum 48 (Short Robusto / Short Corona Extra)
First Impressions & Construction
I’ve got to say, this thing looks incredible.

The majority of H. Upmann sticks carry that lighter, “Colorado” colored wrapper, but as an Edición Limitada this one has a much darker leaf. It’s this cinnamon-colored, chocolatey hue that looks like it has been steeping in a vat of espresso. It’s smooth to the touch, almost oily, and has very fine veins.

When I held it in my fingers, it was heavy. There’s an heft to a well-made Cuban that you just don’t get anywhere else—it’s not “hard” (that would be the F-ing “blatants,” which I have more than a sneaking suspicion are crushing), but the cigar feels dense with purpose. The 48 ring gauge is in my wheelhouse. It’s thick enough to be substantive in the hand, but not so much that you look like you’re gnawing on a bratwurst.

I snipped the cap — a razor-like surgical cut — and cold drawn. And as soon as I opened my mouth, I had that, like, Cuban twang.” It’s impossible to describe if you haven’t had it, but imagine a blend of sourdough, sweet hay and a hint of the barnyard funk. I had drew was a little tight, as is common with these older Magnums, but I knew once heat hit it things would open up. The First Third: The Reunion
I fired it up with a single cedar spill and spent the better part of 20 minutes toasting the foot until everything was glowing a gentle orange.

The first few puffs felt like a warm hug from a good old friend. I was hit with a wave of creamy sweetness — I would say buttery caramel or even some vanilla bean. It wasn’t sweet, though: it had a very solid oak and cedar base. Around ten minutes along, nutmeg and cinnamon began to make an appearance.

It’s a very “festive” flavor profile, if that makes sense.

There was a touch of cocoa on the retrohale that made me close my eyes. When all was said and done, while this was a “short” smoke, the flavors I experienced felt massive. You eat a bite of dark chocolate, then immediately after take a sip of heavy cream? That’s the mouthfeel here.

The smoke was heavy and white, hovering in the humid Havana air like a ghost. I picked up some of that herbal, fruity note as well — something slightly dried cherry-ish, maybe — that kept the woodiness from getting too dry. ACT II: A Tough Business To Build
As I work my way through the center of the stick, the sweetness began to fall by the wayside. The creaminess was still there, but it was downtrending toward even deeper, more “toasted” territory.

I began to pick up roasted cashews and the slightest hint of licorice. Here’s where the 2-year aging really comes into play. There is no acridness, no “young” bite. It’s just smooth, earthy tobacco.

The “twang” ratcheted up here — that sugarcane sweetness which only Vuelta Abajo soil can produce. I did need to correct the burn once; the wrapper wanted to canoe on me but I was able to adjust it with a flick of my lighter. It was beautiful ash, salt and pepper grey, hanging on until just under an inch before I tapped it into the crystal ashtray. The strength hovered just above a solid medium.

I wasn’t getting a nicotine buzz, but I was getting my puffs and quite liking the taste. It’s a refined profile, not a”punch-you-in-the-gut smoke.”
For the Big Finish: The Grand Finally
When I reached the last couple of inches the temperature rose and the flavors went a little darker. The cedar became increasingly earthier and a black pepper spice began to tickle the back of my throat. It wasn’t too-heavy handed, certainly nothing that was going to blow me away — just a good reminder that I was smoking a serious cigar.

That buttery unctuousness made a sudden, unexpected return at the very end, cavorting with the natural tobacco taste in a manner that only made me want to nub the thing until my fingers were burning. I remained on that balcony until it was nothing but a tiny, glowing coal. The construction performed gloriously — no tunneling and no plugging.

It’s a solid little firecracker that’s somehow able to cram 50 minutes of pure evolution into a four-and-a-half-inch frame. And as it got short, it never got bitter. It just got… concentrated. The Pairing
Now, come on, you’re in Havana, you drink the rum.

It’s the law of the land (or ought to be). I washed this one down with a glass of Havana Club 7 Year Old, straight up. The molasses-heavy sweetness of the rum, dark and unusual, was a great pairing with the oak and nutmeg notes of the H.

Upmann. If you’re not much of a rum person, I’d opt for something like an opulent, rich café con leche — or even a laid-back Highland scotch.