Montecristo 80th Anniversary

Description

I was out on the water, miles from the nearest coastline, sitting on the deck of a beat-up Grady-White. It was one of those nights where the ocean decides to stop moving—just a flat, black mirror reflecting a sky so full of stars it felt heavy. The engine was off. No hum, no vibration, just the occasional slap of a wave against the hull. It’s the kind of silence that forces you to think about things you usually ignore during the 9-to-5 grind. I was thinking about time. How it slips through your fingers, and how we mark the big milestones before they vanish.

I had a torch in my hand and a heavy cedar box on my lap. I didn’t need a fish on the line to feel like I’d caught something special. I just needed a couple of hours where nobody could reach me. Late-night contemplation is better with a bit of smoke to carry the thoughts away, and I’d been saving a particular stick for a moment exactly like this—something that felt as substantial as the darkness surrounding the boat. You ever have one of those nights? Where the world feels infinite and you feel tiny, but you’ve got one thing in your hand that makes you feel like the king of the deck?

That smoke? The Montecristo 80 Aniversario. It’s a beast of a cigar, a commemorative heavy-hitter that Habanos put out to celebrate eight decades of the most famous brand in the world. I’d been sitting on this one for a while, waiting for the humidity and the mood to align. Out there on the water, with the salt air mixing with the scent of aged tobacco, it finally felt right.

The Specs

First Impressions: The Build

I gotta say, the first thing you notice about the 80 Aniversario isn’t the gold band—though that thing is flashy as hell—it’s the sheer weight of it. At 17.38 grams, it feels like a tool in your hand. It’s a 55 ring gauge, which is thick. We’re talking “Double Robusto” or “Double Edmundo” territory, but the official factory name is the Maravillas No. 2. Holding it between my fingers while the boat rocked gently, I could tell the rollers at the H. Upmann factory weren’t messing around. It’s firm. No soft spots, no weird lumps. Just a solid, oily cylinder of Cuban craftsmanship.

The wrapper is a dark, chocolatey brown—typical of the higher-end Montecristos. It’s got that classic Cuban “rustic” look, with a few visible veins, but it feels like silk. Before I even reached for my cutter, I took a long sniff of the foot. I got hit with this intense floral aroma, mixed with something that smelled like old library books and dried hay. I nipped the cap—a clean, straight cut—and took a cold draw. Now, I’ve smoked a lot of Cubans, but this was weird in the best way possible. I tasted sweet cinnamon, a bit of salt, and—I’m not kidding—Lemonhead candy. It was like a citrusy, sugary zing that sat right on the tip of my tongue. Solid start.

The First Third: The Sweet Spot

Lighting a 55 ring gauge cigar on a boat is an art form. You have to shield the flame from the sea breeze, rotating the foot slowly until the entire surface is glowing like a coal. Once I got it going, the first few puffs were thick. The smoke production on this thing is heavy; it hung in the still air of the deck like a fog. The initial flavors were surprisingly gentle for a cigar billed as medium-to-full. I got a lot of caramel and milky chocolate right out of the gate. It reminded me of those oatmeal cookies with the icing on top—sweet, grainy, and comforting.

About an inch in, a woodsiness started to creep in, like cedar that’s been sitting in the sun. There was also this creamy, malty quality. If you’ve ever had a good milk stout, you know that smooth, slightly sweet finish? That’s what was happening here. The draw was a bit tight—which is a common quirk with these thick Maravillas—but it didn’t ruin the experience. It just meant I had to take my time. And out there on the water, time was the one thing I had plenty of. The ash was a light grey, holding on like it was glued to the binder. I didn’t want to tap it off; I wanted to see how long that tower would grow.

The Second Third: The Transition

By the time I hit the midpoint, the 80 Aniversario started to show its teeth. That “medium” strength I felt at the beginning? Yeah, that was gone. It moved firmly into the medium-to-full range. The sweetness from the first third started to fade, replaced by a deep, rich earthiness. It felt like the cigar was grounding itself. I started picking up notes of roasted nuts and a very distinct vanilla cream. It wasn’t “candy” anymore; it was more like a sophisticated dessert you’d get at a place where they don’t put prices on the menu.

There was a bit of black pepper beginning to tingle in the back of my throat, especially on the retrohale. It wasn’t overwhelming, just enough to let you know it was there. The burn stayed mostly even, though I had to give it one little touch-up with my torch because the sea breeze caught one side of the wrapper. The aroma, though… man. The smell of the smoke itself was intoxicating. It had this “old world” tobacco scent—leather, coffee beans, and dried leaves. I found myself just holding the cigar under my nose between puffs, watching the smoke drift up toward the Milky Way.

The Final Third: The Business End

As I got down to the last couple of inches, the cigar changed again. This is where the Vuelta Abajo tobacco really shows off. The flavor profile shifted toward the darker side of the spectrum. The pepper became the dominant player, and the woodiness turned from “sun-drenched cedar” to something more like charred oak. The sweetness was almost entirely gone, replaced by a robust, earthy bitterness that reminded me of a double espresso. It was intense.

I noticed a bit of harshness toward the very end, but that’s usually a sign that I’m puffing too fast. With a cigar this size, you have to be careful not to overheat it, or the oils will turn acrid. I slowed down, letting it sit for a minute or two between draws. The body was full at this point—heavy and coating the mouth. It’s a long smoke. I’d been sitting on that boat for nearly two hours by the time I finally decided to let it go. I didn’t want to nub it until it burned my fingers; I wanted to leave it while the flavor was still “solid.” I set it down in the ashtray and watched the last bit of smoke vanish into the night.

The Pairing

If you’re going to tackle the Montecristo 80 Aniversario, you need something that can stand up to it without fighting it. Since I was on a boat and keeping things simple, I had a flask of aged dark rum—something with a bit of molasses sweetness to bridge the gap between the first and second thirds. If I were back on land, I’d probably go with a heavy-duty coffee or, as the tasting notes suggested, a milk stout. You want something with body. A light lager or a thin gin and tonic would get absolutely bullied by this cigar. You need a drink that can hold its own in a conversation.

The Verdict

Look, the Montecristo brand has been around since 1935 for a reason. They know how to blend. The 80 Aniversario is a fitting tribute to that history. Is it perfect? No. The draw can be a bit finicky, and you might have to work the lighter once or twice to keep the burn straight. But the complexity is there. The way it moves from that weird “Lemonhead” pre-light to a creamy chocolate start, then into a peppery, earthy finish is a journey. It’s not a cigar you smoke while you’re mowing the lawn or distracted by a football game.

This is a “special occasion” stick. Whether that occasion is a wedding, a promotion, or just a Tuesday night where you find yourself alone on a boat in the middle of the ocean, it demands your attention. It’s a big, bold, expensive piece of Cuban history that reminds you why we bother with this hobby in the first place. If you can find one—and they aren’t getting any easier to find since the 2016 release—grab it. Just make sure you’ve got two hours of peace and quiet to give it the respect it deserves.

The Final Word: A heavy-hitter with a complex soul. It starts like a dream and finishes like a heavyweight fight. Solid.