Description

Pavement Paradise: Kickin’ It with the Montecristo Petit Edmundo

I was in Madrid, near the Calle de Alcalá. If you’ve ever been there during rush hour, as I was yesterday, it’s a sensory overload. Vespas are zipping like angry hornets, tourists are getting lost in maps and you can feel the humidity rising to just the point your shirt adheres to your back. It’s loud. It’s chaotic. It is the very last place one would suppose that you might encounter a moment of real, God-damned peace.

Product Specifications

I slipped into a modest, little estanco, one of those fusty little tobacco shops which have probably never changed their wallpaper since the seventies. There was nothing in particular I needed, maybe some matches or a cheap cutter to replace the one that vanished at security. But I had wandered into the walk-in humidor in the back, and there it was. One of the dusty boxes of machine-mades in the way back, however, yielded a single slightly worn-out cedar box of Montecristo Petit Edmundos. In a city in which the best Cubans are picked over by midday, discovering a well-aged stash like this felt akin to finding a twenty-dollar bill in an old pair of jeans. It was a once in a lifetime discovery, and I knew exactly what to do.

I picked up a couple, headed back out to the chaos and plopped down on a stone bench by a fountain that was far enough away from foot traffic to give it considering space. I flicked the cap, I struck a match and all of a sudden, the sound of that city just. .. Fell away. The horns became a dull hum. The heat didn’t matter. It was just me and the bench and that squat little stick. That’s the trick of a good smoke — it doesn’t just rearrange your palate, but for an hour, it changes your zip code.

The Transition: That smoke? The Montecristo Petit Edmundo…

I’ve smoked the full-blown Edmundo many times, but there’s something about the “Petit” that feels more honest for the way I do some of my living.

I can’t always spend two hours with a double corona. There are times when I simply require forty-five minutes of intensity. This cigar was Habanos S.A. reply to the contemporary smoker 2006, coming on the heels of the Hoyo de Monterrey Petit Robusto’s trail. It’s called edmund dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo and, like that character, it’s kind of got a chip on its shoulder (but a lot more depth).

Technical Specifications

Build: How It Feels in the Hand

When I took this out of the box, the first thing that struck me was how heavy it is. And for such a little cigar, it’s hefty. It’s that classic Cuban “Colorado” wrapper—a bit of a reddish-brown that reminds me of an old leather saddle. It’s not bulletproof smooth; there is a trace of fine veins and some tooth, but that’s what I want from a Monte. If it looks too nice, my Spidey senses start tingling.

The dry hit was just what I want to see: firm but not plugged. You ever smoke a cigar that’s more like trying to drink a thick milkshake through a pinhole? This isn’t that. It has just enough resistance to let you know it was rolled by someone who gives a damn. On the nose (with the unlit foot) I got a big hit of dark chocolate, dense earth, and that unique funky “barnyard” smell signifying something made from tobacco outta Vuelta Abajo was fermented correctly. It smelled of toasted tobacco and a little bit of spicy pepper. Solid start.

Flavor Profile: A Three-Act Play

The First Third: The Awakening

The first few draws tell us all we need to know. It doesn’t mess around with the Petit Edmundo. Right off the bat, I was smacked in the face with a strong burst of cedar and oak. It’s woody, but not dry. There’s an abundance to it, as if you walked into a woodworker’s workshop. Five minutes this time and the leather notes made an appearance. This is a medium-bodied opening, yet the flavors are “thick.” I mean double-roasted coffee and a bitterness that brings to mind premium cocoa — not the sweet stuff but the 85 percent cacao. There was a solid amount of smoke, dense and creamy as it hung itself in the air against a even light breeze of Madrid.

The Second Third: The Sweet Spot

As I arrived at the midway point of the stick, and body increased to a medium-full. Click to expand Montecristo DNA really starts to reveal itself here. The woodiness continued, but with a bouquet of spices to accompany it. I mean nutmeg and cinnamon, with a leathery snap of white pepper on the retrohale. But the real surprise? Marzipan. There’s just a sort of nutty sweetness in the almonds that tames down the spice. It’s a complex balance. One moment it’s savory and earthy, the next there is this creamy caramel sweet thing happening. And I have to say, that was an unusually well-distributed burn for a Cuban. I don’t think I had to touch it up 1 time (which is a small miracle for an outdoor smoke).

The Last Third: The Big Finish

When I descended to the band, there Petit Edmundo was in full flight. The sweetness began to ebb, giving way to a more rough and herbal character. I detected notes of star anise and a slight vegetal, almost “Chinese tea” quality. The coffee notes got darker — black espresso, say — and the finish was long and opulent. And it stayed cool until almost the end, which is a rare thing to say for the shorter vitola. I ended up nubbing it, holding it between my fingertips until I just couldn’t. It ended quickly though with a nice long, leathery finish and nutty cocoa bean flavor that stayed on my palate for some time after I had put it out in the ashtray.

Pairing: What to Drink?

So, I was sitting on a park bench this time so just sipping at cafe solo (espresso) again. And honestly? It was perfect. The bitterness of the coffee balanced against the creaminess of the cigar really brought out those roasted bean notes.

But back home in my lounge, it would be Havana Club 7 for me. You want something with a little age that will match the spice on this cigar, and also one that has a molasses sweetness to it. A peaty Scotch could walk all over it, but a mellow bourbon that has some vanilla would also work. If you don’t drink, I’d go for a high-quality ginger ale or one of those dark-chocolate heavy stouts. You are looking for a beer that reflects the “bittersweet” quality of the smoke.

The Verdict: Who is this for?

Listen, the Montecristo Petit Edmundo isn’t the cigar for you if what you’re interested in is a light, grassy smoke to accompany your mowing of the lawn. This is a “look at me” cigar. It is for the smoker who craves the whole Cuban experience — earth, spice, cocoa — but has only an hour. It’s a mouthful, an in-your-face little creature that doesn’t make apologies for its intensity.

Is it the humidor’s least expensive smoke? No. Is it the prettiest? Probably not. But if you’re looking for a rich, “meaty” experience that can be counted on, it’s a heavy-hitter. It’s that kind of cigar, the one that can turn a busy city street into what feels like your own private library. If you come across a box that’s been lying around for a year or two, snatch it! You won’t regret it.

FINAL TALLY:Vegan Junkfood to the Max!: 10The Pornstar Martini: 7

NEXT TIME:A grand spread for my family, featuring a couple of slow cooker side dishes.

Nellie’s Vegan Cafe1593 N. Main St.Walnut Creek