Montecristo Open Eagle – Large Format Cuban Cigar

Description

I’ve said all along if you can tell the kind of guy a man is, it’s not what he does when he’s winning, but what he does when the heavens open up and splash his parade with a bucket of water. So, right after work last Tuesday I was hosting games at my house. We were on the back deck, one of those nights when the air is thick enough to chew and the humidity’s got your cards sticking together. I was adrift on a heap of chips — mostly plastic, but the pride was genuine — after just having bluffed my brother-in-law out of a pot that would’ve paid for a decent steak dinner. I was feeling smug, Ricketts in my chair, ready to bring home the bacon when the first clap of thunder rang out.

In an instant, the drizzle had transformed into a full-fledged tropical downpour. We fled, the chips and whiskey in tow, back to the ancient detached garage like a beaten army. It’s an airy room — it smells of lawnmower gas mixed with sawdust — but it has a tin roof. Nothing sounds like rain on a tin roof when you’re hunkered down against the world with a winning hand still snoozing in your pocket.” We tapped the table in place on a pair of sawhorses, and suddenly the tenor changed from competitive to intimate. I dipped into my travel humidor, searching for something worth lasting. I didn’t want a hit and run; I wanted slow victory laps. I felt my way through the regular suspects and found something meaty, substantial. I retrieved a Montecristo Open Eagle and lit it up.

That smoke? That’s exactly the kind of cigar you want when you’ve no place to go and a story to tell. It’s a big, beefy stick that looks like it could beat you up but acts like an old friend. I snipped the point, listened to what was left of amplified rain drumming above us and had an epiphany: It turns out sometimes nothing is better for a poker night than being rained out.

The Specs

Construction: A Handful of Havana

The most striking thing about the Open Eagle, however, is its sheer bigness. 54 ring gauge is no joke. It feels substantial in the hand—it’s dense, it’s well-stuffed, and it’s solid. It’s a “Geniales,” what they call it at the factory, and I have to say, the name fits. The wrapper is a silky Colorado shade, which means that beautiful reddish-brown that resemble polished cedar. It has a little bit of sheen to it, and as I ran my thumb down the side I felt that it is slick, almost oily in nature, that came with a triple cap so well applied that you only see from some of the best rollers in Cuba.

I smelled it before I lit up. The foot emitted this pungent scent of barnyard and aged hay — for those of us not into cigars, “smells yucky,” but for us sprouts that’s the smell of quality. The pre-light draw was easy. Some Cubans can be stingy, like they are holding on to their secrets; this one was open and inviting. I felt a blast of cold cedar and just a touch of salt on my lips. The toast was leisurely, I took my time with it and even went as far to ensure the giant 54-gauge foot was glowing evenly before I sat back and puffed away. That first cloud of smoke, in that drafty garage with the smell of rain-damp concrete hanging in the air, felt like a warm blanket.

The First Third: The Soft Open

Open, get it?)The Open series was introduced all the way back in 2009 and it’s for people who are at most three beers into a round of golf and at least a cigar or two past the point where they want to be carried/ dragged off the course from dizziness.

After about 10 minutes, I detected a subtle spice. It wasn’t black pepper; it was more a whisper of white pepper that lingers at the back of your palate to say it’s here. The smoke volume was impressive. Each pull yielded a dense, white cloud that lingered in the tepid garage air. My friends were telling me about where water was coming in at a corner of the roof, but I kept getting lost thinking about how good everything was starting to sit on my tongue. It’s a thin-bodied start, very clear, and this didn’t have that heavy resin feeling on my tongue. It was fresh — a strange word, for what is a cigar (but it’s true).

The Middle Third: Cream & Coffee

That’s because when we progressed into the second quarter, the Eagle began to spread its wings. The body increased a notch and was now just shy of medium. Here’s where the Montecristo DNA really began to manifest itself. If you’ve tasted a typical Monte No. 2, you know what I mean by creamy, bean-like flavors. The Open Eagle does a looser version of that. I began picking up toasted nuts — mostly cashews — and a pronounced creaminess, the kind you get in a latte when there’s just too much sugar.

Occasionally a grassy note rose to the top, which is something I tend to associate with younger tobacco, but this worked here. It imparted just a touch of “green” freshness that cut some of the cream. I also detected a touch of caramel sweetness on the retrohale. I asked the guys at the table to shut up for a second so I could pay attention to it. They didn’t, of course, but I did just get a whiff of biscotti. It’s a complex smoke, but it doesn’t demand anything. You don’t need to go out searching for the flavors; they sort of come to you while you’re pondering whether your buddy really has a full house, or is he just pulling one over on you.

Act Three: The Big Finish

As I made my way down to the last third, the rain was reduced to a soft patter on an empty beach and I had become the only player with chips worth bothering about. The Eagle was still dying a hero’s death. I haven’t really had to relight this once, and that’s a testament to the build coming out of that Geniales factory. The flavors blackened a bit here, which I admired. The cedar developed a more aged wooden profile and the cocoa began to reveal itself. Not dark chocolate, more like dusty cocoa powder.

I also tasted some fruit notes — perhaps a little dried cherry, and cinnamon spice. The finish stayed creamy, though. Even as this cigar burned down, and most cigars do get hot and bitter in the end, the Open Eagle was not. And that’s the advantage of the 54 ring gauge; you have enough tobacco there so that smoke doesn’t get too hot. I smoked it to the nub, till my fingers fought back heat. On the finish, it was floral, almost sweet, as if drizzled with honey on toasted rye bread. It was a long, satisfying trek and it took me about 80 minutes to complete. Solid.

Pairing: Keeping it Balanced

You don’t want to squash this — it’s a light-to-medium smoke — with anything heavily peated scotch. You’ll miss all those delicate floral and creamy nuances. That evening, I was taking dainty sips of a mid-shelf Cuban rum, not too fancy, just with some vanilla and oak to it. But we were soulmates. The sweet rum contrasted excellent with the nuttyness of the cigar.

If you’re not a liquor fan, I would honestly suggest a crisp pilsner or even ginger ale. You want a palate cleanser, not something that just covers the thing up. If you’re smoking this on a golf course or a back patio in the afternoon then cold iced coffee with cream would be amazing. I bet the middle third of the cigar would be singing with those coffee notes.

The Verdict

I know some of the old-school “puro” purists tend to look down on the Open series — in part because they want their Montecristo to be a spice-and-leather bomb that knocks your socks off, no matter what.

But I disagree. Really, there’s a time and place for such a cigar that doesn’t require 100% of your focus merely to navigate its depths. Sometimes the company and the backdrop are just as important as the tobacco, and that is when you load up the Open Eagle.

It’s a good looking stick, it’s sturdily built like it would survive a war, and the flavor profile is mild and enjoyable.

It’s the sort of cigar I’d hand to a buddy at his first charge on Habanos and it’s also something I make sure is in stock at home for those long afternoons — or rainy poker nights — where I want a completely premium experience without any nicotine hangover. It’s not trying to be the boldest thing in the room; it’s only trying to be the most dependable. And in my book that means a lot.

Is it the cheapest smoke available? No, it’s a Montecristo, you’re just paying for the name and some Cuban soil. But for a 60-to-90-minute break from the rain, it’s money well spent. If it’s got windows and the world outside is getting too loud, light one of these bad boys up. It will level you out nicely.

Final Thought: When a man smokes outside, he needs an “outdoor” Habano that’ll die trying!

Score: 91/100 – A continuous, durable and earnest partner for the long haul.