Description
I never forget my younger brother’s wedding just like yesterday. Not the cake, not even some of the slightly lewd dance moves my Uncle Jerry had made during the reception, but a certain thirty-minute slice when evening light was at play with fading sun. The wedding itself was a high-wire act of logistics, family politics and a sudden rainstorm that threatened to turn the garden venue into a swamp. But by 7:00 p.m., the clouds cleared, the “I dos” were said and I was propped up against a stone balustrade overlooking a valley so perfectly hypothetically rendered it felt like someone had painted it after hoarding nothing but gold-leaf orange.
I felt triumphant. Primarily because my brother had finally found someone who actually liked him, but also because I’d been able to keep a small cedar travel humidor in a suit jacket all day without tearing out what’s left of my hair. I reached inside, felt that tapering head we know so well and removed a walking stick that had been lying there for almost six years. Have you ever wanted the world to just absolutely stop turning for a second? That was me. I cut the cap, lit a match and watched caverns of blue smoke curl into the dusk. That smoke? The H. Upmann No. 2.
I’ve smoked a lot of cigars in my time—some that tasted like tire fire, some that felt like a divine revelation—but the Upmann No. 2 is an entirely different animal.
It’s the typical cigar that doesn’t demand your attention, but instead earns it as being one of the most reliable, consistent and perfect damn companions you could ask for when the sun goes down and the adrenaline wears off.
The Specs
| Ring Gauge | 52 |
| Length | 156 mm (approx. 6.1 inches) |
| Vitola | Piramides (Torpedo) |
| Origin | Cuba |
| Wrapper | Vuelta Abajo, Cuba |
| Binder | Vuelta Abajo, Cuba |
| Filler | Vuelta Abajo, Cuba (Long Filler) |
Construction and Pre-Light
Carrying a Piramides is a special kind of joy. There’s something old world about that tapered head, more so than a regular Robusto. The H. Upmann No. 2 I was smoking that night had a wrapper the color of a well-worn leather book bag—not too dark, not too light, just a solid, oily Colorado color. I ran my thumb along the side, and ho boy the build was sturdy. Any soft spots, any odd lumps. Nothing more than a serious, confident roll from the Partagás factory in Havana.
It’s in the pre-light draw that this story begins. I only trimmed just enough off of the tip to get a nice draw, did not want to lose that nice focused Piramides sensation. I got a blast of cold-draw flavors that transported me straight to a barn in the Vuelta Abajo: hay, old cedar and an oddly specific odor of dried tea leaves. (Isn’t the “bold” part yet, but that’s something.) The foot scent was pure Cuban — earthy, a little sweet and smelling of bank vault filled with tobacco (which is appropriate since Hermann Upmann was a banker before he was a cigar man).
The First Third: The Awakening
It’s that first drag that tells the story. You don’t get smacked across the kisser with a spice bomb when you light up the H. Upmann No. 2. It’s more of a ‘Here, you don’t know me yet. As I observed the wedding guests beginning to snake over toward the bar and the “real” party, a wave of light spice and what I can only describe as pu-erh tea washed over me. If you’ve never had pu-erh, it has an ashy-basement-smoke quality that tastes earthy but clean. It’s a sophisticated start.
I think the first output of smoke was strong. Thick, creamy, and white. There’s woodiness here, but it comes with creaminess—oak and cedar mostly—and isn’t astringent. People like to compare this to the Montecristo No. 2, which many believe is the “famous” brother in the family, but I find the Upmann earthier. It feels more grounded. The Monte is all twang and cocoa, but the herbaceous brightness of the Upmann might appeal to you more. It’s the fire you go for when you want to taste what you’re smoking, rather than simply being smoked.
The Middle Third: The Sweet Spot
Twenty minutes in, as the sky went a deep violet, the cigar really came into its own. And here’s where the magic happens with a well-aged Cuban. The “medium” body began to lean a little more toward richness. I saw the tea notes fade away and the chocolate nutty taste take over. It did not taste like a Hershey bar; it was more akin to dark, unsweetened cocoa powder accented with some shortbread.
I have to tell you, the floral notes in the middle of this cigar is what makes it unique. It is subtle, like catching an aroma of a garden on the breeze.” I detected too a bit of sweetness coming in — not sugar, but closer to a dried fruit or honey sort of feeling. The leather began to surface on the tongue as well, which added a little more “weight” to it in the mouth with each puff. The burn was razor-sharp, which says a lot for a Cuban Piramides. There’s usually a little babying to do so they burn down evenly, but this one was performing like a pro. It was a dark grey piece of ash, hard as a rock, and never had to be touched-up.
The Final Third: Game of Thrones
By the time I was down to the final third, the tinny bleats of a wedding band were playing something loud and brassy three block away at least but all that really mattered at this point was me locked into the nub. The flavors changed once more – became bolder and more assertive. Those “musky vanilla” notes that everyone goes on about? They’re real. It’s a weird, captivating combination of old-school leather, bold black pepper and creamy sweetness that hangs onto the back of the throat.
The heat increased more toward the end, but it never went “hot.” And that’s the beauty of a 52 ring gauge—it stays cool until even when you’re only an inch away from the nub. I was getting notes of licorice and the flavor of a deep, roasted coffee bean. It’s a complex conclusion to a complex cigar. Smoked young (1-2 years), these can get a little feisty in the final third, but with 5-8 year old age? They are smooth as silk. When my fingertips started to feel the warmth through the pages, I finally stopped, as if emerging from a long deep conversation with an old friend.
Pairing Recommendations
This is where you have to be cautious. The last thing you want is a drink that’s going to steamroll those delicate tea and floral notes in the first half.
- The Go-To: A damn fine cup of coffee. A good latte or a flat white is amazing as the milk brings out the creaminess of tobacco.
- The Classic: Havana Club 7 Años. It’s an easy one for a reason. The molasses sweetness of the rum marries quite well with the oak and leather notes in the Upmann.
- The Connoisseur’s Choice: Slightly peated Scotch. Something like a Highland Park. It is bridging the notes of pu-erh tea and later cocoa.
The Verdict
I mean, the H. Upmann No. 2 is a premium cigar workhorse. It doesn’t have Behike flash, or Montecristo cache; in my view, it’s usually the better smoke. It’s earthier, it’s less fakable (an alarming characteristic of some criollo tobaccos on the Cuban market) and there are enough flavor transitions in that 90 minutes to keep you fascinated.
Is it for everyone? Maybe not. If you want a “pepper bomb” that’s going to make your eyes water search somewhere else. But if you’re looking for something nice and medium-bodied that starts tea-and-cedar-y but spends some time in chocolate-and-leather land, this is your stick. It’s a celebratory cigar, but it’s also a “contemplative” cigar. It was great for me that night at the wedding, and it will be great for you whenever you have something to be proud about. Solid. Truly solid.
