Partagas Lusitanias GR Cosecha 2007

Description

Every year when my birthday rolls around, I have this tradition. I don’t want a party, I don’t want a cake, and I definitely don’t want another tie. I want to be somewhere I can’t hear a cellphone ringing, preferably with enough salt spray in the air to remind me I’m still alive. This year, I found myself solo-piloting a 45-foot sloop off the coast of the Keys. The wind was being a real bear, gusting just enough to make a solo tack feel like a wrestling match with a giant. But I nailed it. I caught the line, swung the boom, and found that perfect trim where the boat just hums. It was a triumphant moment, man. I dropped anchor in a quiet cove, watched the sun start that slow, orange dip toward the horizon, and realized I’d finally earned the right to open the small, airtight travel humidor I’d been guarding all day.

I’ve been holding onto a specific stick for a moment exactly like this. You know those cigars you save for a day that’s actually “special” and not just a Tuesday? This was it. I reached past the daily smokes and pulled out a long, dark, imposing beauty that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a sailboat cockpit. It felt heavy in my hand, substantial, like a piece of history that had been waiting for me to stop working and start living.

That smoke? The Partagás Lusitanias Gran Reserva Cosecha 2007. I’ve had my eye on this one since it first hit the scene back in 2013, but I wanted to wait until the tobacco—already aged five years before it was even rolled—had some serious “me time” in my own humidor. Sitting there, with the boat gently rocking and the smell of the ocean mixing with the anticipation of that first light, I knew the wait was over.

The Specs

Construction & First Impressions

I gotta say, holding a Lusitania is an experience in itself. It’s a massive cigar. At nearly eight inches long, it’s a commitment. You don’t smoke this while you’re mowing the lawn. You smoke this when you have two hours and nowhere else to be. The wrapper on this Gran Reserva is something else—darker than your standard Lusitania, with a slight oily sheen that caught the fading sunlight beautifully. It’s “Totalmente a Mano,” which is just a fancy way of saying some master roller in Havana spent a lot of time making sure this thing was perfect.

The double banding is what really sets the mood. You’ve got the classic Partagás red and gold, but then that black and gold “Gran Reserva” band sits right below it, telling you that the tobacco inside has seen some things. This particular stick comes from the 2007 harvest, meaning the leaves were picked when George W. Bush was still in office. They let that tobacco sit and mellow for five years before they even thought about rolling it. That’s patience I don’t usually have.

I gave the cap a clean clip with my straight cutter. The pre-light draw was exactly what I was hoping for—just a tiny bit of resistance, like drinking a thick milkshake through a straw. I got hits of cold cedar and a sort of earthy sweetness that reminded me of a forest floor after a rainstorm. No soft spots, no veins that looked like they’d cause trouble. It felt solid, dense, and ready to go.

The First Third: A Polite Introduction

I toasted the foot slowly, making sure I didn’t rush the process. When I finally took that first puff, I was actually a little surprised. Usually, Partagás hits you like a freight train right out of the gate. But this Gran Reserva? It was polite. It was like a well-dressed gentleman walking into the room and shaking your hand before he decides whether or not he’s going to start a fight.

The first few minutes were all about yeasty bread and a very subtle chocolate note. It wasn’t sweet like a candy bar, more like a high-end dark cocoa powder. The smoke output was massive—thick, white clouds that hung in the still air of the cove. It felt incredibly smooth on the palate. I wasn’t getting that typical Partagás “zing” just yet. Instead, it was creamy and rich. I sat back against the mast, watched the first few stars pop out, and just let the flavors settle. If the whole cigar had stayed like this, I would have been happy, but I knew the 2007 Cosecha had more in the tank.

The Second Third: The Strength Wakes Up

As I moved into the second third, the “gentleman” started taking off his coat. The strength began to ramp up from a medium to a solid medium-full. This is where the pedigree of the Vuelta Abajo tobacco really started to shine. I could taste the difference between the districts they used. The Seco leaves from San Luis were giving off this incredible aroma—spicy but not biting—while the Ligero from San Juan y Martinez was starting to provide that backbone of strength Partagás is famous for.

The flavor profile shifted away from that initial breadiness and moved straight into cedar and leather territory. There was a bit of black pepper on the retrohale, but it was refined, not harsh. It’s that aged tobacco magic; you get the flavor of the spice without the burn that makes your eyes water. I also started picking up a distinct earthiness, like old wood and damp soil. It felt grounded. Solid. Every puff felt like it had a purpose. I noticed the ash was a beautiful light gray, holding on for nearly two inches before I decided to tap it off into the water. The burn line wasn’t laser-straight, but it was close enough that I didn’t need to touch it up once.

The Final Third: The Partagás Powerhouse

By the time I hit the final third, I was about 90 minutes into the smoke. The sun was long gone, and the boat was just a silhouette against the dark water. This is where the Lusitania Gran Reserva stops being polite and shows you why it’s the king of the brand. The strength hit “Full” and stayed there. It was a total sensory overload, but in the best way possible.

The cocoa from the beginning came back, but now it was mixed with a heavy dose of spice and a rich, toasted nut flavor. The leather notes got deeper, more intense. It was a complex dance—one minute I’d get a hit of sweetness, the next I’d get a punch of peppery earth. It never got hot, even as I smoked it down to the nub. That’s the benefit of a 194mm length; you’ve got a lot of runway for the smoke to cool down before it hits your mouth. I found myself slowing down, savoring those last few inches because I knew I wouldn’t be lighting another one of these for a very long time. It was a bold, unapologetic finish that left a lingering taste of cocoa and spice on my tongue for hours.

The Pairing

Now, you could pair this with a lot of things, but on the boat, I kept it simple. I had a flask of aged Cuban rum—nothing too sweet, just something with enough oak and vanilla to complement the cigar’s earthiness. A heavy-hitting, peaty Scotch would also work if you want to lean into the smoky side of things. But honestly? If you’re at home, a strong, black Cuban coffee (Cafecito) is the way to go. You need something that can stand up to the strength of the final third without getting lost. Water is also your friend here; you’ll want to keep your palate clean to catch all those transitions.

The Verdict

So, is the Partagás Lusitanias Gran Reserva Cosecha 2007 worth the hunt? I’m going to be honest with you: if you’re looking for a quick nicotine fix, look elsewhere. This is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s a cigar for the person who appreciates the process—the five years of aging, the careful blending of San Juan and San Luis tobaccos, and the sheer craftsmanship of a Double Corona.

It’s not a “daily” smoke, and not just because of the price or the rarity (only 5,000 boxes made, after all). It’s because it demands your full attention. It’s a triumphant smoke for a triumphant moment. It transitions from a soft, chocolatey start to a powerhouse finish that reminds you why Partagás is a staple in every serious humidor. For my birthday, sitting on that boat after a hard-won sail, it was exactly what I needed. It’s a piece of art you can set on fire. And man, what a fire it is.

If you ever get the chance to grab one of these—and you have the two hours to spare—do it. Just make sure the setting is right. You don’t want to waste a Cosecha 2007 on a mediocre day. Wait for the day you nail that solo tack, or the day you finally finish that project, or just a day where the sun hits the water exactly right. You won’t regret it.