Montecristo Double Edmundo

Description

On the other side of a drafty porch sits, quite literally, on its last legs. The wood is greyed and splintering — that kind of wear doesn’t announce itself like this, except, you realize suddenly, when the sun has been beating on it for decades in West Texas with supporting contributions from heavy boots. My grandfather’s boots. Now he’s gone, and all I have is this vast, quiet ranch and a heavy mahogany box he kept hidden away in his study next to some yellowed land deeds and an old photo of my grandmother from 1954.

Product Specifications

It’s that kind of afternoon, a melancholic one. There’s a bit of dust coming off the driveway in the wind, and it’s too silent out here. You ever feel like you’re taking over a ghost? That’s the feeling this ranch gets. But when I opened that box, what I discovered was not ghosts. I discovered a cache of Montecristos. He was not a man of many words, but he knew tobacco. He’d kept these for “the right time,” which generally meant never. I reckoned, with a view over the fence line he spent five decades fixing up, today was as good a day as any.

I grabbed a stick, which seemed heavy enough to counter the load I was feeling on my chest. It felt substantial in my hand, a bit of history wrapped up in a Colorado-hued leaf. That smoke? The Montecristo Double Edmundo. It is a beast of a cigar, but it felt appropriate for a man who built something out of nothing in his life. I cut the cap, struck a match and watched as my first puff dissolved into the dry air.

The Specs: Montecristo Double Edmundo

But first, before we get into how this thing actually smokes while you’re pondering your life choices on a ranch porch or at the top of Kirkjufell in Iceland, here are the vitals.

This is not a quick-smoke-while-walking-the-dog kind of cigar.

Construction and Initial Impressions

I’ve gotta tell you, holding a Double Edmundo is like holding something made of heavy machinery. It’s got a waistline to it that demands a little bit of respect. Mine was wrapped in a gorgeous, oily Colorado—think reddish brown, the color of dirt beyond the barn. It’s handmade, completely a mano, and you can tell. The leaf is a little bit toothy, but it’s rolled tight without being a brick. No soft spots, no strange lumps. Nothing but a blank, straight cylinder of Cuban skill.

The cold draw was classic Monte. I found hay, with a sharp note of cedar. It’s that smell of an old barn — not the dirty part, but the clean, dry loft where the sun beats on the wood. It’s nostalgic. When I touched the flame to it, the draw was open but with a little pinch resistance that keeps me honest. I hate a cigar that feels like I’m sucking air through a straw, and this one has just the right “tug” where you know it’s chock-full o’ premium long-filler from Vuelta Abajo.

The First Third: A Soft-Opening

The first couple of drags tell the story. It doesn’t reach out and hit you over the head, like it tries to do with the Double Edmundo. It’s polite. I reclined in the rocker, pheasant-tailed a hawk out circling the north pasture and let the smoke drift. The first tastes were unexpectedly creamy. There’s that indelible cedar, naturally, but it’s accompanied by the faintest hazelnut-like nuttiness and a strangely pleasing whiff of cherry sweetness. It’s not quite a “fruit” cigar, to be sure, but there is a flash of something bright in it that counterbalances the earthiness.

The smoke output is generous. Plump, white clouds languishing in the dead air of the porch. It’s a soft medium-bodied beginning, quite accessible. If you’re accustomed to the smaller Edmundos, this is very much the same DNA but stretched out, and that allows room for the flavors to breathe. It’s relaxed. It was in tune with my mood — a little sad, a bit contemplative, but steadfast.

The Second Third: Time to Get Down to Business

At about the forty minute mark, the cigar began to come alive. Here is where “Double” starts to actually mean something in the name. The creaminess of it all, from the start, was moving and taking on a different shape now. From cedar it transformed into oak — stronger, darker. Then came the cocoa. It wasn’t a coffee bar like a milk chocolate bar; it was closer to raw cacao, or very dark chocolate that lost all its sugar. Solid.

I began to feel pepper blossom on my throat. It’s a sticky spice, not a sharp pepper burn, just a low empyreumatic flare that clings. This is the section on the cigar that lets you know it’s a medium to full stick. It’s got some weight to it. I noticed when I was puffing the cigar a little too quick because it tasted so good, and the cigar told me. It was beginning to turn a little bitter. I had to coach myself to pace it. My grandfather’s mantra was “If you’re in a hurry, you’re not doing it right.” That goes for ranching and it most certainly goes for a Dobles-sized Montecristo. When sipped more slowly, that sweetness returned, counteracting the heavy oak and spice.

The End of the Third: The Power Move

But when I got down to the last few inches, the sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky was a bruised purple. Now they were all systems go with the Double Edmundo. The power had increased dramatically. We’re talking full-bodied territory here. The flavours had consolidated to create a strong tobacco nucleus, with hints of leather and deep spicy aftertaste that hung in the air for each puff before fading away.

It’s a long smoke. I was pushing two hours in this thing and never thought it was slow. Even in the end, the construction was sound. The ash was a nice light grey holding on in solid chunks, which is always an indicator of good aging and rolling Cuban. The heat remained easily handleable all the way through, although you can certainly feel that signature nicotine kick by this finesse point. It’s a take-your-time kind of cigar. You don’t smoke this while you’re working; you smoke it when the work’s over and you’re thinking about who did it before you.

The History Behind the Sword

I continued to stare at the band — those crossed swords. It’s one of the most famous logos in the world — and with good reason. My grandfather may not have realized that in 1935, when the brand was first created in collaboration with H. Upmann, or that John Hunter, a British distributor, is responsible for the current look that we know today. He simply knew it was a Montecristo. He knew that when you saw somewhere between yellow and red, you are actually buying a product that amounts for 50% of all Cuban exports.” That’s because they know what the hell they’re doing.

The Edmundo line is a very young one in the brand’s history, having been introduced in 2004. The Double Edmundo didn’t even arrive until 2013. It was the big brother, the companion for long afternoons. There’s a reason it’s a 92-point cigar. It employs the classic Vuelta Abajo blend but it has a much wider canvas. It’s consistent, and in the world of Cubans, consistency is a hard rarity to come by.

Pairing Recommendations

Out here on the porch, I didn’t have a fancy bar. I did have a thermos full of black coffee, and I snagged a flask of some mid-shelf bourbon my cousin had abandoned in the kitchen. Honestly? It was perfect.

• Black Coffee: The bitterness of a strong roast compliments extremely well the creaminess of the first third and cocoa notes of the second. It cleanses the palate and allows you to taste between transitions.
• Bourbon: If you’re drinking the alcohol, choose something infused with caramel and vanilla. It complements the woodiness spice of the last third. I would recommend a wheated bourbon.
• Rum: If you’re a traditionalist, a dark Cuban rum is the way to go. The molasses sweetness is a suitable complement to the earthiness of the Montecristo.

The Verdict

So, who is this for? It’s not for the fellow who just wants a quick hit of nicotine before a meeting. It’s for the man with two hours to kill and a lot on his mind. It’s for the man seated on a front porch he just inherited, wondering how he will ever fill the shoes of the one who came before him.

The Montecristo Double Edmundo is a slow burn, though. It’s complicated but not confusing, powerful but not arrogant. It’s a “grown-up” smoke. It rewards patience. Rush it and it’ll come back at you, but give it some consideration and it will reward you with one of the most complex experiences a humidor can offer.”

I polished off the nub just as the first stars began appearing over the ranch. I was feeling slightly better, a little more in control. It wasn’t the cigar that did me good, but it gave me space to see things clearly. It’s simply a good, trusty and thoroughly satisfying smoke. Gramps, if you’re out there watching, thank you for the ranch — but thanks even more for the cigars. I’ll be all right out here, I believe.

Final Thought:If you could find these and have the time to really invest, purchase a box. Let them rest for a couple of years, they only improve with age, and keep them handy for a day when the world seems too much. You won’t regret it.