Description

The Quick Sprint: A Deep Dive into the Montecristo Open Junior

I remember standing in my father’s study, the air thick with the scent of old leather bindings and that lingering, ghostly aroma of pipes smoked decades ago. I was twenty-two, vibrating with a sort of frantic energy that only comes when you’re about to board a plane for your first solo trip abroad. My bags were packed—mostly wrinkled t-shirts and a beat-up copy of Hemingway—but I felt like I was missing a piece of the ritual. I wasn’t a “cigar guy” yet, at least not in the way I am now, but I knew that a journey required a proper send-off.

I remember the sunlight hitting the mahogany desk, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. I reached into the bottom drawer where my old man kept his “quick smokes.” My hand hovered over the big Churchill tubes and the thick Robustos, but I didn’t have an hour. I had a taxi coming in twenty minutes. I needed something that matched my pace—energetic, compact, and ready to go. I swiped a small, slender stick with a vibrant green-and-gold second band.

That smoke? The Montecristo Open Junior. I didn’t know it then, but that little Trabuco was about to become my go-to for every time life moved a little too fast for a double corona.

The Specs

Construction: Small but Feisty

When you pick up an Open Junior, the first thing you notice is that it feels like a heavy pen in your hand. It’s not intimidating. It’s the kind of cigar you can clench between your teeth while you’re fiddling with a camera or checking a map. The wrapper on mine was a classic Colorado shade—a natural, healthy brown that looked silky at a distance but revealed a bit of “character” up close. I’m talking about visible veins and a slightly toothy grain. It’s not a “pretty boy” cigar; it looks like it was made to be smoked, not stared at in a museum.

I gave it a gentle squeeze. It felt firm, no soft spots, which is always a gamble with these smaller Cuban vitolas. The pre-light draw gave me exactly what I expected from a Monte: a bit of dry hay and a distinct earthy musk. I clipped the cap—a clean, straight cut—and the airflow was spot on. Not too loose, not like sucking air through a straw, but just enough resistance to let you know there’s actual tobacco packed into that 38 ring gauge.

The First Third: The Wake-Up Call

I lit it up right there on the porch while waiting for my ride. The first few puffs are always a surprise with the Open series. If you’re used to the classic Montecristo No. 2 or No. 4, this is a different beast. It’s brighter. The Open line was designed for the “outdoor” smoker—golfers, sailors, or guys like me rushing to an airport—and you can taste that intent.

The initial flavors were dominated by oak and a very “fresh” kind of woodiness. It wasn’t heavy or oily yet. Instead, it felt crisp. There’s a nuttiness there, too—think raw almonds rather than roasted walnuts. It’s light-bodied, but it doesn’t feel thin. I gotta say, for a small cigar, the smoke output was solid. It produced these thin, blue ribbons of smoke that smelled like a high-end leather shop. It’s the kind of start that matches a morning coffee perfectly.

The Second Third: Finding the Groove

About ten minutes in, the Open Junior starts to settle into its rhythm. The “green” edge of the first third mellows out, and the classic Montecristo DNA starts to peek through. I noticed the leather notes getting a bit dustier, a bit more mature. This is where the coffee notes started to show up—not a creamy latte, but more like a dark roast espresso with no sugar.

What I like about this middle section is the balance. You’ve got that Cuban earthiness, but it’s tempered by a slight fruity sweetness that stops it from becoming too “dirt-forward.” There’s a touch of nutmeg in the retrohale, which adds a bit of zing without burning your sinuses. It’s a very approachable profile. If you’re a beginner, you aren’t going to be overwhelmed. If you’re a veteran, you’ll appreciate the clean transitions. It’s just… easy. No fuss, no relights, just a steady burn.

The Final Third: The Pepper Crescendo

As I neared the end—and I’m talking about the 25-minute mark here—the Junior decided to show some teeth. The strength ticked up from light-medium to a solid medium. The oak turned into a charred wood flavor, and a distinct black pepper started to coat the back of my throat.

Usually, with small cigars, the final third can get “hot” or bitter because the heat is so close to your mouth. But this Trabuco stayed remarkably cool. The spice was intentional, not a byproduct of a bad burn. It finished with a bit of a kick, a final reminder that despite its “Junior” name, it’s still a Cuban Montecristo. I smoked it right down to the nub, until my fingers started to feel the heat, and I didn’t regret a single puff.

Pairing Recommendations

You don’t want to drown this cigar in a heavy peated Scotch. It’s too delicate for that. Here’s how I’d play it:

• The Morning Routine: A double espresso or a flat white. The bitterness of the coffee plays beautifully with the nutty, woody notes of the cigar.
• The Afternoon Refresh: A crisp, dry white wine—maybe a Sauvignon Blanc. The acidity cuts through the leather notes and keeps the palate fresh.
• The “Outdoor” Special: If you’re actually on a golf course or a boat, a gin and tonic with a slice of lime. The botanicals in the gin bring out that “fresh” woodiness I mentioned earlier.

Design & Aesthetics

The Open Junior sports two bands. You’ve got the classic brown and white Montecristo band, and then that distinctive green-and-gold “Open” band below it. I know some purists think the second band is a bit much, but I like it. It signals that this isn’t your grandfather’s “sit-by-the-fire-for-two-hours” smoke. It looks modern. It looks like it belongs in a travel humidor or a blazer pocket.

The box of 20 is a classic Habanos setup, but these also frequently come in those handy 3-pack cardboard tubs. If you’re traveling, those 3-packs are a lifesaver. They protect the delicate wrappers from getting crushed while you’re tossing your bags around.

Functionality & Value

Is it a “value” smoke? Well, it’s a Cuban, so you’re paying a premium for the soil and the name. But compared to its bigger brothers like the Eagle or the Regata, the Junior is a steal for what it offers.

It’s the perfect “dog walker” cigar. It’s the perfect “I have a 30-minute lunch break” cigar. It’s for the person who wants the complexity of Cuban tobacco without the time commitment of a larger vitola. It burns for about 30 to 40 minutes if you take your time, which is the sweet spot for a lot of us these days.

I’ve found that these really benefit from a little bit of age. If you can let a box sit for two years, that “green” edge I mentioned in the first third turns into a lovely, oily sweetness. But even fresh off the shelf, they’re reliable.

The Verdict

I’ll be honest: if I’m sitting down for a celebratory dinner, I’m probably reaching for something with more girth and a longer story to tell. But the Montecristo Open Junior isn’t trying to be that. It’s a scrappy, energetic little stick that delivers exactly what it promises: a high-quality, medium-bodied Cuban experience that fits into the gaps of a busy life.

It’s solid. It’s dependable. It’s the cigar I grab when I’m heading out the door and I don’t know where the day is going to take me. Whether you’re a novice looking to dip your toes into the world of Habanos or a seasoned pro who needs a quick fix, the Junior is a staple.

Every time I light one up, I’m back in my father’s study, bag in hand, ready to take on the world. And that’s the real magic of a good smoke—it’s not just about the tobacco; it’s about where it takes you.

Final Thought: If you see a box, grab ’em. You’ll find a dozen reasons to smoke them before the week is out.