H Upmann Magnum 50s

Description

H. Upmann Magnum 50 Review

The wind had sunk to a murmur, sufficient to keep the sails from flapping like sheets in a gale. I was seated on the aft deck of a 40-foot sailboat, mellifluously watching the sun drop toward the horizon off the coast of the Keys. It’s a funny feeling, being out there when the light begins to go that bruised purple and gold.

Product Specifications

It’s bittersweet. You’ve had a hell of a day on the water, but you know that it is getting late and the day is dying, and you are heading back to the harbor tomorrow, back to those emails, back to that noise. I had to hang on to something that would take me back to then. Something that would not stop until the sun slipped under in its final sliver of orange.

I dipped my hand into my travel humidor and fished around. A couple of shorter Robustos were passed over by my fingers and I grabbed something big. It was long, and thick, and it had that inimitable velvet feel of properly aged Cuban leaf. I reached into my suit bag — and there it was, the H.

Upmann Magnum 50. I have long felt that this particular vitola is all about transitions. It’s not a latte-time quick morning smoke, and it’s not a celebratory stick you puff while people are shouting out loud. It is a “sit down and shut up” cigar.

You know those times where the word is just too loud and you need a buffer around your day?” That was me on that boat. I snipped off the cap with a straight cut and noted the resistance of a well-packed bunch. The atmosphere smelled of salt and old rope, yet as soon as I toasted the foot that all changed. That first puff of blue smoke went spiraling up through the rigging, and I knew I had chosen wisely for my sunset companion.

Let’s dive into the weeds on this one! That smoke? The
H. Upmann Magnum 50.

Feature
Details
Wrapper/Binder/Filler
Vuelta Abajo, Cuba
Construction: How the Craft Feels

I have to say, though, there is something about the 160mm length that just feels good in the hand.

It’s got heft. It’s not a “baseball bat” like some of those 60-ring gauge monsters you see people humping around these days, but it’s substantial. Mine came in a Colorado shade —a striking, reddish-brown that stood out like polished mahogany under the setting sun. It was not a smooth drag — I could feel the fine veins, and there was a bit of tooth to it, which I quite like.

It makes it feel like food, not something shot from a plastic mold. The cold draw was perfect. I have smoked plenty of “Cuban straws” (the kind you can’t draw any air through), but this Magnum 50 was supplying me with just enough resistance. It was cold and tasted of cedar and dried straw, with a slight floral sweetness on the palate.

I actually spent a good five minutes just smelling the thing before I even got a flame to it. At least from my experiences, if the pre-light smells like a walk in a soggy forest, you’re going to have a good experience. First Third: The Easy Bit

The opening few puffs were lighter than expected, classic Upmann that. It begins in that light-to-medium space, not immediately trying to kick your teeth in.

I got this initial hit of graham cracker — that toasted, honey-sweetened grain taste. Then came the vanilla. It was not a cheap candle; it was more like a dry vanilla bean. Subtle.

Elegant. While I was sitting there, the mast swaying around me, I saw a bit of cinnamon dancing in the corners. It’s a “warm” profile. I taste a leather note in the back that is the counterballast; it keeps straight dessert.

The smoke output was impressive. Chunky white clouds that would linger in the humid air for a moment before being whipped off by the sea breeze. It was twenty minutes of pure relaxation at first. No bite, no bitterness, just a silky and velvety delivery that turned the bittersweet sentiment of saying goodbye to the day more “sweet” than “bitter.”
The Second Third: Thickening The Plot

When the sun was half way down to the horizon, the Magnum 50 began to stir.

This is where it begins to get muddy. I love the size, “Double Robusto,” because it’s nice and roomy for the tobacco to stretch out in. The body firmly entered the medium zone. That graham cracker sweetness was still there, but it came across as a little darker, more like honey and toasted nuts.

The retrohale started developing some black pepper spice for me. It was just enough to be spicy without making my eyes water — that necessary “zing” to balance the creaminess, though not an overwhelming amount. Then came the cedar. It’s that iconic Cuban cedar smell that takes you back to an old library.

I made out twinkles of frill, also glimpses of fruit. You ever eat a dried apricot? It’s right there: In the concentrated, slightly tangy sweetness. There was that in it, in the coffee and leather up to your elbows.

It’s a lot of flavor in one profile, but it doesn’t feel incohesive. Everything has its place. The burn was true as an arrow. I never had to touch it up along the way and would have been fine even if the wind blowing across the deck in places did mess with it a few times.

The ash was a firm, light gray, stubbornly clung for an inch and a half before I tapped it into the sea. That is the behavior of some very good rolling. The Third Act: The Climax

As the stars began to twinkle, so did the cigar. The last third of a Magnum 50 is, I dare say, my favorite part of the experience.

The spice segues, but the graham cracker note returns for an encore turn, growing richer and more intense. It’s as if the flavors are being concentrated once the cigar shortens. I began to receive a very heavy note of almond here. It’s a nutty, slightly oily finish that clings to the palate.

The leather went deeper, more the color of an old saddle, and the coffee notes got dark roast espresso. Now it’s a “full” medium body. It’s satisfying. I smoked it down to where my fingers began feeling the heat, and even then, it never became either bitter or “muddy.” It remained clean all the way to the finish.

I’ve heard this cigar has “powerful, almost raw” smoke, and I kind of get that but really it is a better word to use for it. It’s muscular, but it’s got on a sharp suit. The Backstory: From Limited to Legend

All you can do is love the history here. The Magnum 50 wasn’t always a regular item in H.

Upmann’s portfolio. It actually began its life as an Edición Limitada in 2. People went bonkers for it. It was one of those odd scenarios where, despite being a limited release that’s popularity was such that Habanos S. A. had no choice but to move it into regular production, which they did in 2.

It’s remained a staple ever since, and with good cause. It covers the ground between the diminutive Magnum 46 and giant Magnum 54. It’s the Goldilocks of the Magnum line for me — juuust right when it comes to time and tobacco. I heard a Gran Reserva Cosecha 2 is also coming soon.

I’m typically a bit of an agnostic when it comes to the “extra aged” hype, but in the case of the Magnum 50s blend, I can totally understand that five years aging on this raw leaf would really help this puppy sing. But honestly? The regular production stuff is so good right now — I don’t even know if I necessarily need to track down a “Gran Reserva” to be content. Pairing: What to Drink?

I was drinking a big, oaky Cabernet Sauvignon on the boat. The tannins of a big red wine are playing really, really well with the leather and cedar in the Magnum 50. They’re kind of like palate-cleansers between puffs, so you can taste that graham cracker sweetness over 3 and a half inches all over again. If you don’t like wine, this is a other-wordly steakhouse cigar.

Say the word “steak” to someone who loves food and watch their heart rate quicken. A glass of aged rum or peaty Scotch would work, too, but I have a sweet tooth, so I’d want something with a bit of sweetness to match the Upmann’s natural honey notes. Just don’t match it with something too light — a pilsner or gin and tonic will be absolutely bowled over by the cigar. The Verdict
So, who is this for?

For the novice this may be a lot of cigar to handle — not because it’s too strong, but because it is a commitment. You’re already at 90 minutes, easy. If you try to push it, it’s going to get hot and be a downer. But if you’re the sort of person who finds value in transitions, someone who enjoys watching flavors evolve from bright and floral to dark and spicy, this belongs on your list of must-own cigars.

It’s a dependable, nuanced and eminently “Cuban” experience. It’s all about that “twang” you just can’t get anywhere else. Is this the world’s cheapest stick? No.

Is it the easiest to find? Not always. But when you’re sitting on a boat, watching the sun die and you’d like to feel as though all is right with the world … the Magnum 50 is your tool. I sat on that deck long after the cigar was a nub and the sun had set.

The bittersweet sensation had dissipated, giving way to a serene form of satisfaction. That is what a good cigar does. It doesn’t just give you flavor, it gives you a memory. And this one?

Solid. Absolutely solid. Final Thoughts:
Beautifully integrated and worth the wait.

If you see a box, grab ’em. If you see one, smoke it. Just be sure you have the time to give it what it’s due.