Montecristo Dantes Limited Edition 2016

Description

I was sitting high above the grid of Manhattan, tucked away in a penthouse that felt more like a glass-walled sanctuary than a home. Outside, a late autumn rain was absolutely hammering the city. You know that kind of New York rain—the stuff that turns the yellow cabs into blurry smears of light and makes the skyscrapers look like they’re dissolving into the clouds? That was the vibe. I was leaning back in a cognac-colored leather chair that probably cost more than my first car, watching the droplets race down the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where the city’s noise just… stops. I felt contemplative. I felt like I needed something that could match the gravity of the weather and the silence of the room.

I reached into my travel humidor and pulled out a stick I’d been saving for a rainy day—literally. It had that dark, oily sheen you only see on specific Cuban releases, and the secondary gold band caught the dim light of the penthouse. I spent a good five minutes just rolling it between my fingers, thinking about how much time has passed since this thing was rolled back in 2016. Eight years. That’s a lot of life lived while this tobacco was just sitting in the dark, getting better. I clipped the cap, struck a long cedar spill, and let the smoke join the gray mist outside the glass.

That smoke? The Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016. It’s named after Edmond Dantès, the lead from The Count of Monte Cristo, and let me tell you, it’s got just as much drama and complexity as the book itself.

The Specs

Construction: A Stout Piece of Art

I gotta say, the first thing you notice when you pick up the Dantés is the weight. It feels substantial in the hand—14-plus grams of tightly packed, high-quality Cuban leaf. It’s a Hermosos No. 1, which is basically a slightly slimmed-down Churchill or a beefed-up Grand Corona. For me, a 48 ring gauge is the sweet spot. It’s thick enough to give you a cool, voluminous smoke, but thin enough that you don’t feel like you’re chewing on a flashlight.

The wrapper on mine was a deep, chocolatey brown—darker than your standard Montecristo Linea Clasica. That’s the Edición Limitada hallmark right there. These leaves are aged for at least two years before they even see a rolling table, and it shows. The texture was slightly toothy, with a faint oily sheen that felt like fine silk. I gave it a cold draw and picked up a heavy hit of damp earth and a sweetness that reminded me of dried figs. The draw was firm—solid, but not plugged. Just that perfect bit of resistance that tells you the roller knew exactly what they were doing.

The First Third: The Awakening

The moment the foot caught the flame, I was hit with a wave of classic Montecristo DNA, but amplified. The first few puffs were all about leather and a heavy, rich creaminess. I’m talking thick, velvet-on-the-tongue smoke. But then, something weird and wonderful happened. You ever had a poppy seed muffin? That slightly nutty, slightly floral, baked-good flavor? It popped up right at the start, mixed with a bit of cedar.

As I sat there watching the rain hit the penthouse glass, the retrohale revealed a surprising amount of sugar. It wasn’t a candy sweetness, more like raw cane sugar. There was a touch of acidity, too—not the kind that bites, but a bright note that kept the heavier leather flavors from becoming too “muddy.” It was a sophisticated start. The strength was sitting at a comfortable medium, just enough to let you know it’s there without demanding your full attention while you’re trying to think.

The Second Third: The Plot Thickens

By the time I hit the second third, the ash was holding on like a champ—a light gray, tiered stack of nickels. The flavor profile started to shift away from that initial creaminess and moved into a more “savory” territory. I started picking up distinct notes of walnuts and peanuts. It was earthy, but in a clean, mineral sort of way.

I noticed a bit of Graham cracker coming through, which is one of my favorite notes in an aged Cuban. It’s that mix of honey, wheat, and spice. Speaking of spice, there was a faint whisper of cinnamon on the finish. The acidity I mentioned earlier started to pick up a bit, reminiscent of a dry white wine, which really made the nutty flavors pop. I gotta tell ya, the burn was a little wavy—which is common for these oily EL wrappers—but I didn’t mind. I just gave it a quick touch-up and kept watching the clouds roll past the Empire State Building in the distance. The cigar was hitting its stride, moving into that medium-to-full body range.

The Final Third: The Savory Climax

Now, this is where things got interesting. If you’ve smoked a lot of Cubans, you know that “umami” or “salty” character they can get. In the final inches of the Dantés, that nuttiness turned into something I can only describe as… well, Lay’s potato chips. I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s that specific oily, salty, starchy flavor. And on the retrohale? I swear I caught a hint of roasted pork. It’s a savory, meaty richness that usually only shows up in cigars with some serious age on the tobacco.

The wood notes deepened into a dark oak, and the sweetness from the first third pretty much vanished, replaced by a peppery tang. It stayed cool all the way down to the nub. Usually, cigars this size can get a bit bitter at the end, but the Dantés kept its composure. It was a long smoke—took me about 70 minutes—but I enjoyed every second of it. By the time I was putting it down in the crystal ashtray, the rain had started to let up, and the city lights were beginning to shimmer through the clearing mist.

Pairing: What to Drink?

In a New York penthouse, you’ve got options. But for the Dantés? You need something that can stand up to that medium-full body without drowning out the nuances.

• The Spirit Choice: A pour of Michter’s 10 Year Bourbon. The caramel and vanilla notes in the bourbon play incredibly well with the Graham cracker and leather in the cigar.
• The Classic Choice: A 20-year-old Tawny Port. The nuttiness of the Port is a mirror image of the second third of this cigar. It’s a match made in heaven.
• The Non-Alcoholic Choice: A double espresso with a tiny bit of brown sugar. It highlights the cocoa and earth tones without any distraction.

The Verdict

I’m going to be honest with you: the Montecristo Dantés Edición Limitada 2016 is a bit of a unicorn these days. If you can find a box, you’re going to pay a premium for it. But is it worth it? If you’re a fan of the Montecristo profile but want something with more “muscle” and a darker, more complex story to tell, then yes. Absolutely.

It’s not a “everyday” smoke. It’s a “I’m sitting in a penthouse watching the rain and thinking about my life” smoke. It’s elegant, it’s sturdy, and it’s got layers that reveal themselves slowly, much like Edmond Dantès planning his revenge. The construction is solid, the flavor evolution is distinct, and it leaves you feeling satisfied but still thinking about that last puff.

If you see one, grab it. Put it in your humidor for a rainy day. You won’t regret it.

Final Thoughts: A sophisticated, savory journey that proves why the 2016 Limited Edition series is still talked about in hushed tones at cigar lounges. It’s a masterclass in Cuban blending.