Description

The rain in Manhattan doesn’t just fall; it attacks. It’s that grey, sideways slush that turns a three-block walk into a survivalist expedition. I was leaning against the cold stone of a doorway on 57th, watching the yellow cabs create wakes like speedboats, when my phone buzzed. No name, just a suite number and a time.

I’ve known “The Architect” for a decade. He’s the kind of guy who owns things you aren’t allowed to photograph. When I finally reached the penthouse, the elevator doors opened directly into a room that smelled of old money and floor-to-ceiling mahogany. The mood was hushed, secretive—the kind of atmosphere where deals are made with a nod rather than a contract. Outside, the storm was blurring the skyline into a charcoal smudge, but inside, the air was perfectly still.

The Architect gestured to a leather chair that probably cost more than my first car. “I’ve only got forty-five minutes before the board meeting,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But I’m not spending them sober or smokeless.”

I knew exactly what he meant. You don’t always have two hours to dedicate to a double corona, but you also don’t want to settle for a machine-made cigarillo just because the clock is ticking. I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a leather case. Inside were two short, tapered beauties with that distinctive brown and white band.

That smoke? The Montecristo Petit No. 2.

The Specs

Before I get into how this thing actually performed while I watched the lightning strike the Chrysler Building, let’s look at the numbers. This isn’t just a chopped-down version of its big brother; it’s a specific engineering feat.

Construction: The Tapered Edge

I’ve always been a sucker for a torpedo. There’s something about that pointed cap—the pirámide—that feels more intentional than a standard parejo. In my hand, the Petit No. 2 feels dense. It’s got a bit of weight to it that suggests they didn’t skimp on the filler just because they shortened the length.

The wrapper on the one I pulled out was a classic Colorado shade—a medium nut-brown with a slight oily sheen that caught the dim light of the penthouse lamps. I ran my thumb down the side; it was smooth, with only the faintest veins visible. No soft spots, no lumps. It’s a solid piece of craftsmanship.

I took my cutter—a simple straight cut, though I kept it shallow to preserve that tapered draw—and took a cold pull. I gotta say, the pre-light was pure Montecristo. I got a hit of dry cocoa, a bit of that “barnyard” funk that tells you you’re dealing with real-deal Cuban leaf, and a faint sweetness like graham crackers. The draw was firm but not plugged. Just enough resistance to let you know you’re going to have to work for it, but not so much that it’s a chore.

The First Third: The Opening Act

I toasted the foot slowly. In a room this quiet, you really notice the aroma of the first light. It wasn’t aggressive. It started with a puff of toasted tobacco and a very distinct note of whole wheat bread. You ever walk past a bakery early in the morning? It was like that, but with a spicy kick at the end.

The Architect lit his, and for a few minutes, we just sat there watching the smoke drift toward the high-tech air filtration system. The flavor profile in the first ten minutes was surprisingly bright. I picked up some milky cocoa and a bit of roasted nuttiness. It’s medium-bodied at this point, not trying to bowl you over, but definitely present.

There’s a floral spice that lingers on the tongue—not a “burn your throat” pepper, but more like a dried flower petal spice. It’s sophisticated. I noticed that if I puffed too fast, it started to get a bit sharp, so I slowed down. This is a cigar that demands you respect its pace, even if you’re in a hurry.

The Second Third: The Core Strength

As we hit the middle of the stick, the Petit No. 2 started to show its true colors. The “Petit” label might make some guys think it’s a lightweight, but by the second third, the body definitely moves into that medium-to-full territory.

The cedar came forward in a big way. It’s that classic, dry woodiness that defines a good Cuban. Alongside it, the cocoa deepened into something more like baker’s chocolate—less sweet, more intense. I also started getting a creamy coffee note, like a well-made macchiato.

What I liked most about this stage was the texture of the smoke. It felt thick. You could almost chew on it. The nutmeg notes started swirling around, and the spice moved from the back of the throat to the roof of the mouth. It’s a dry profile, for sure. If you’re looking for a sugary “flavor bomb,” this isn’t it. This is a “sit down and think about your life” kind of smoke.

The ash was holding strong—a light grey, almost white, with those beautiful “stack of nickels” rings. I didn’t want to tap it off; I wanted to see how long it would last. It stayed for nearly half the cigar before I got nervous about the Architect’s expensive rug and flicked it into the crystal ashtray.

The Final Third: The Grand Finale

This is where the Petit No. 2 usually separates the casual smokers from the aficionados. As you get closer to that tapered cap, the heat concentrates. If you haven’t purged the cigar or if you’re pulling too hard, it can get bitter. But if you treat it right? It’s a masterclass in evolution.

The woodiness shifted from simple cedar to something more exotic—sandalwood and a bit of woody vanilla. The floral spice stayed, but it was joined by a lingering earthiness. I felt a bit of caramel sweetness creeping back in, balanced by a touch of saltiness on the lips.

The pepper finally made its presence known in the final inch. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it gave a nice “thump” to the finish. It was a long finish, too. Long after I put the nub down, I could still taste that mix of hay, leather, and dark coffee. It’s a powerful ending to a short story.

Pairing: What to Drink?

In the penthouse, the Architect poured us a couple of fingers of a Highland scotch—something with a bit of honey and heather but not too much peat. It worked, but honestly? I think this cigar needs something with a bit more weight to stand up to that final third.

If I were at home, I’d go with a dark, aged Rum—something from Guatemala or Nicaragua with those deep molasses notes. The sweetness of the rum would play perfectly against the dry cedar and spice of the Montecristo.

If you’re a coffee drinker, a double espresso is the only way to go. The acidity of the coffee cuts through the creaminess of the smoke and highlights that cocoa note in the first third. Avoid anything too light or fruity; you want something that can dance with the medium-to-full body of the tobacco.

The Verdict

The Montecristo Petit No. 2 is a specific tool for a specific job. It’s for the person who loves the profile of the legendary No. 2 but lives a life that doesn’t always allow for a two-hour hiatus.

Is it a “budget” smoke? No. It’s a premium Cuban through and through. It has the complexity, the construction, and that unmistakable Vuelta Abajo soul. I’ve had some that were a bit tight on the draw—that’s the nature of the beast with hand-rolled figurados—but when they’re on, they’re solid.

It’s a “grown-up” cigar. It’s not trying to impress you with gimmicks or infused flavors. It’s just high-quality tobacco, expertly blended, and shaped into a format that fits the modern world.

As the Architect stood up to head to his meeting, he looked at the nub in the ashtray and nodded. “That did the trick,” he said. We didn’t need to say anything else. The rain was still drumming against the glass, the city was still a mess below us, but for forty-five minutes, everything was exactly as it should be.

If you find yourself with an hour to kill and a need for something that feels substantial, grab one of these. It’s a punchy, spicy, sophisticated little number that doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Final Thought: Solid. Keep a box of ten in the humidor for those “secretive” moments when time is short but quality is non-negotiable.

Summary of the Experience

• Aroma: Clean cedar and toasted tobacco.
• Burn: Mostly even, requires a little attention due to the shape.
• Draw: Firm but rewarding.
• Complexity: High for such a short smoke.
• Value: High, if you value your time as much as your tobacco.