Description
Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016 Review When news broke that the Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016 was now available in both France and Switzerland, it got me excited. I was perched high above the grid of Manhattan, in a penthouse that didn’t feel so much like a home as it did a glass-walled sanctuary. It was hammering the city, too. You know the New York rain I mean – you know this rain that turns the yellow cabs to smeary blurs of light, and makes all the skyscrapers seem to melt in towards clouds?
Product Specifications
| Attribute | Detail |
|---|---|
| Product Name | Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016[1] |
| Origin | Cuba[7] |
| Factory | Undisclosed[8] |
| Vitola | Hermosos No.1[2] |
| Length | 167 mm / 6.57 inches[1] |
| Ring Gauge | 48[1] |
| Wrapper | Cuba[8] |
| Binder | Cuba[8] |
| Filler | Cuba[8] |
| Strength | Medium – Full[1] |
That was the vibe. I was reclining in a cognac-colored leather chair that likely cost more than my first car, while the droplets raced down from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was one of those occasional uncharacteristic lulls in the not-alway-calm ambience of the city. I felt contemplative.
I felt like I needed something that was an equivalent to the weather, that would match the silence in the room. I reached into my travel humidor and grabbed a stick I’d been saving for a rainy day—quite literally. It had that rich, oily sheen found only on certain Cuban releases and captured the back-and-forth light in the dim penthouse with a secondary gold band. I sat there for five minutes just rolling it between my fingers, thinking about where this thing’s been since it was rolled back in 2016.
Eight years. That’s a lot of life lived while the tobacco we’ve just prompted from its darkness with all this shredding and rubbing was living in the dark, getting better. I sliced off the cap and lit a long cedar spill, watched the smoke rise into the gray mist beyond the glass. That smoke?
The
Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016
. It’s named for Edmond Dantès, the protagonist of
The Count of Monte Cristo
, and let me tell you, it’s as maddeningly dramatic and complicated as the book. The Specs
Construction: A Stout Work of Art
I must confess the first thing that strikes you as soon as you pick up the Dantés is weight.
It has a weight and feel in the hand — 14-plus grams of densely packed, high-grade Cuban leaf. It’s a Hermosos No. 1, which is pretty much a bit thinner Churchill or a fatter Grand Corona. For me as well, the sweet spot is 48 ring gauge. It’s thick, so it gives you a nice voluminous smoke, but thin enough that it doesn’t feel like you are chewing on a flashlight.
The wrapper on mine was a rich, chocolately brown—darker than your average Montecristo Linea Clasica. That’s just the Edición Limitada way. These leaves are aged for a minimum of two years even before they reach a rolling table, and it comes through. It was a touch toothy, with the faintest slick oil-sheen feeling of fine silk to it.
I cold-drew it and took in a big hit of damp earth, along with some sweetness that reminded me of raisins or dried figs. The pull was good — smooth but not tight. The perfect amount of resistance that says the roller knew exactly what they were doing. The First Third: The Awakening
The instant the foot caught, I was greeted with a wall of typical Montecristo DNA, accelerated.
The opening puffs were all leather and a thick, rich creaminess. I’m talking thick, velvet-on-the-tongue smoke. But then something amazing and strange happened. You ever eat a poppy seed muffin?
That nutty, floral (but only just a bit), baked-good flavor? It arrived at the front and pop, mixed with a touch of cedar. Sitting and staring at the raining hitting that penthouse glass, there was a shocking amount of sugar in the retrohale. It’s not a candy sweetness, but more of a raw cane sugar sweet.
There was some acidity, too — not in the sense of bitey robusta coffee, but a zip that kept the heftier leather flavors from running “muddy.” It was a sophisticated start. The strength was at a pleasant medium, enough to make you aware of it without commanding your attention when you’re trying to think. The Second Third: Plot Twists
When I reached the second third, a picture-perfect ash was still hanging in there— a wavy- tiered tower of light-gray nickels.
The second half of the flavor profile started to drift from that initial creamy and into more “savory” water.
I began to detect notes of walnuts and peanuts. It was earthy, but with a clean mineral quality about it. I detected an undertone of Graham cracker, which is one of my favorite notes in an old Cuban. It is that honey, wheat and spice blend.
And speaking of spice, there was a soft echo of cinnamon on the finish. The acidity I noted earlier began to assert itself a bit here, in the vein of dry white wine — and boy did it help those nutty flavors shine. I gotta tell ya, the burn was a bit wonky — typical of an oily EL wrapper — but I didn’t care. I merely gave it a quick touch-up and continued to watch the clouds racing over the Empire State Building in the background.
The cigar was coming into its own, entering the realm of medium to full bodied strength. The Last Third: The Sensual Conclusion
And this is where it starts to get interesting
.
If you’re smoked a lot of Cubans, you know that edgy “umami” or “salty” character they can impart. The final few inches of the Dantés proved that this nuttiness was just something I associated purely with the beginning of the blend; what it turned into… well, really best way to put it is Lay’s potato chips. I know, it sounds crazy. But it is that particular oily, salty, starchy taste.
And on the retrohale? I do believe I smelled little bits of roasted pig. It’s a savory, meaty richness that I’m used to only seeing in cigars with some serious age on the tobacco. That wood pulled down in to a charred oak, and the sweetness in the first third was all but gone and now replaced with an oily, peppery tang.
It remained cool down to the nub. Typically with such a large cigar I would expect some bitterness at the end, but Dantés kept its composure. It certainly was a long smoke — somehow the entire thing took me around 70 minutes to burn through it all — but I savored every minute. As I set it back into the crystal ashtray, the rain began to ease up and city lights outside had just begun to dance through dissipating mist.
Pairing: What to Drink?
In a New York penthouse, you have choices. But for the Dantés? You want something that can balance out that medium-full body while not overriding all those subtleties. The Spirit Choice:
A pour of
Michter’s 10 Year Bourbon
.
The caramel and vanilla flavors in the bourbon go fantastic with the Graham cracker and leather of the cigar. The Classic Choice:
A 20-year-old Tawny Port. The Port’s nuttiness reflects the second third of this cigar.
It’s a match made in heaven. The Non-Alcoholic Choice:
A double espresso with some brown sugar. It brings out the cocoa and earth notes and nothing more. The Verdict
I’ll be real with you: the Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016 is a unicorn right now.
If you can score a box, you’re going to pay just about any price for the privilege. But is it worth it? If you’re a fan of the Montecristo profile and need something with more “muscle” as well as darker, more complex story to tell then yes. Absolutely.
It’s not a “everyday” smoke. It’s a “I’m in a penthouse watching the rain and reflecting on my life” smoke. It’s graceful and beefy, with layers that unfold slowly amid the din, just like Edmond Dantès plotting his revenge. The construction is solid, the flavor development is different and it makes you satiated but still thinking about that last puff.
If you see one, grab it. Stick it in your humidor for a rainy day. You won’t regret it. Final Thoughts:
A complex, savory ride that proves the legend of the 2016 Limited Edition series is still whispered at cigar lounges today.
It’s a Cuban blending masterclass.
