Montecristo Petit No 2

Description

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It is not just falling rain in Manhattan; it’s an assault. It’s that gray, sideways slop that can transform a three-block walk into an Antarctic expedition. I had my back potatoed against a cold slab of 57th Street doorway, watching the yellow cabs rip wakes like speedboats, when my phone buzzed. No name, just a box number and time.

Product Specifications

I have known “The Architect” for a decade. This is the type of guy who has things that you are not allowed to photograph. Finally reaching the top floor, I stepped out of the elevator into what can only be described as a room permeated with the smell old money and 10-foot high mahogany walls. The atmosphere was not light and amusing but hushed, secretive — the world where things are nodded rather than contracted.

Outside, the storm was roiling the skyline to a charcoal smudge, but inside, the air was perfectly calm. The Architect indicated a leather chair that was likely worth more than my first car. “I’ve got forty-five minutes until the board meeting,” he said, almost whispering. “But I am not spending them sober or smokeless.”
I knew exactly what he meant. You might not always have two hours to spare for a double corona, but you don’t want to reach for a machine-made cigarillo just because the clock is ticking, either. I took a leather case from my breast-pocket.

Inside were two of the little, fat-tapered beauties with that brown and white band. That smoke? The
Montecristo Petit No. 2
. The Specs
Before we dig into how this thing actually performed in use — while I watched the lightning strike the Chrysler Building, among other things — let’s go to the numbers!

This isn’t simply a chopped-down version of the big brother, it’s an engineering challenge in its own right. Attribute
Detail
Product Name
Montecristo Petit No. 2
Vitola de Galera
Petit No. 2 (Petit Pirámide)
Shape
Petit Torpedo / Figurado
Body
Medium to Full
Smoking Time
45–60 Minutes
Construction: The Tapered Edge
A Torpedo I have always been a sucker for a torpedo.

There is something about that tipped cap — the
pirámide
— that seems more deliberate than your usual parejo. The Petit No. 2 is surprisingly hefty in my hand. R/ This has a bit of heft to it, like they didn’t just skimp on the filler since they shortened the length. The wrapper on the one I withdrew was that old favorite Colorado color—a medium nut-brown with a small oil sheen which caught the poor light of the penthouse lamps.

I ran down the side with my thumb; it was hairless and only faintly veined. No soft spots, no lumps. It’s a good one, even if it is merely competent craftsmanship. I took my cutter, a straight cut but quite shallow to keep that taper draw and gave it a cold pull.

I’ve got to say, the pre-light was all Montecristo. I caught a whiff of dry cocoa, a touch of that “barnyard” funk that tells you your real-deal Cuban leaf is in effect, and a slight sweetness which suggested graham crackers. The draw was tight, but not plugged. Just the right amount of resistance to let you know that you’re going to have to work for it, but not so much so that you feel like it’s a chore.

The first third: The beginning
I toasted the foot slowly. In a place this silent, you can tell the scent of first light. It wasn’t aggressive. It began with a toasty puff of tobacco and an unmistakable note of whole wheat bread.

You ever walked by a bakery in the early morning? It was that, but with a spicy flourish at the end. The Architect lit up his as the two of us were content sitting there for a bit watching the light blue smoke wafting upwards into his high-tech air filtration system. The flavors in the initial third were unexpectedly light.

I tasted milky cocoa and a hint of roasted nuttiness. It’s midweight at this stage, not attempting to bowl you over but definitely there. There’s also a kind of floral spice that lingers on the tongue – it’s not a “burn your throat” pepper, but more kind of dried flower petal spice. It’s sophisticated.

I found that it flirted with sharpness if I puffed too fast and so I eased off. This is a cigar that makes you respect its leisurely pace, even if you are in a hurry.
the second third: The Abdominals
We started to get into the meat of the stick, and the Petit No. 2 began to open up.

The “Petit” designation might cause some gents to believe it will be a lightweight, but by the second third—for me, at least—it does shift into that medium-full direction for sure.

The cedar made a big entrance. It’s that wonderful, dry woodiness characteristic of a good Cuban. Next to it, the cocoa darkened further, becoming something closer to baker’s chocolate: less sweet and more intense. I also began to taste a creamy, coffee note—or perhaps even more like a well-made macchiato.

My favorite bit was the texture of the smoke on this phase. It felt thick. You could almost chew on it. The nutmeg notes began to swirl, and the spice moved from the back of the throat to roof of the mouth.

It’s a dry profile, for sure. If you are after a sugary “flavor bomb,” this isn’t it. This is a “sit down and talk about your life” smoke. The ash was hanging well— light gray, almost white, with those beautiful “stack of nickels” rings.

I didn’t want to take a tap off it, I wanted to see how long it would go. It sat there for most of the cigar before I became afraid it would ruin the Architect’s expensive rug and flicked it into the crystal ashtray. The Final Third: The Piste De Resistance
This is where the Petit No. 2 usually divides casual smokers from aficionados.

The closer you get to that tapered cap, the heat focusses. It can easily become bitter if you haven’t purged the cigar, or if you’re drawing too hard. But if you treat it right? It’s a masterclass in evolution.

The woodiness moved off basic cedar to something a little more exotic — sandalwood and a hint of woody vanilla. The floral spice remained, but it was accompanied by lingering earthiness. I tasted a hint of caramel sweetness creeping back in, offset by a little bit of saltiness on the lips. The pepper finally made an appearance in the last inch.

It was not very assertive, but added a pleasant “thump” to the finish. It was a long finish, too. Even long after setting the nub down, I could still taste that marriage of hay, leather and plain old dark coffee. It’s a strong ending for a short story.”
Pairing: What to Drink?

We walked into a penthouse, and the Architect poured us each a couple of fingers of some Highland scotch — something that had just the slightest bit of honey and heather but not much peat. It worked, but honestly? I feel this cigar requires something a touch heavier to face off against that last third.

If I was at home, I’d drink a dark, aged Rum — some Guatemala or Nicuaragua type of thing with those heavy molasses notes. The rum’s sweetness would pair well against the dry cedar and spice of the Montecristo. If you

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