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The 40‐Minute Anchor: A Smoker’s Journey with the Partagás Shorts

I can feel the salt spray on my face, mingling with the initial thud of a Caribbean squall. “It was a thirty-four-foot sloop, you know, the sort of boat that feels like a palace in the sun and a coffin in the rain. We were slicing through the swells just beyond sight of the shore, the sky turning that bruised shade of purple that means a quiet afternoon is about to get very loud. It was a little bitter, honestly. I was crossing back over to the mainland, having spent a week island hopping that I knew I’d never quite get the hang of again. It was the end of a journey and everyone could feel it, and weather was on its way, storming up from the south, and I had about enough time for one more moment of clarity before we went and battened down our hatches and didn’t think about hitting a reef.

I slipped under the short canvas bimini, huddling by the companionway to keep above water. My hands felt a little shaky from the sudden cold but I got into my coat pocket and took out a small, cedar-lined leather case. In it lay a small, plump little cigar. This was not a flashy Double Coronado or some colossal Churchill that would require two hours of my life. It was a worker’s cigar. A small, punchy little stick that seemed to be no-nonsense. I cut the cap, struck a match (sheltering flame from the increasing wind with cupped hands) and tasted the first puff. The smoke was dense, blue and sincere. It was just what I needed as both a link between the calm I was moving from and the storm to which I would soon be returning.

That smoke? The Partagás Shorts. It’s been a mainstay of my humidor ever since that rainy afternoon on the water.

The Specs

But before I start telling you what this thing actually tastes like when you’re not standing in the middle of a gale, let’s cover the vitals. This is not a cigar that pretends to be something it’s not. It’s a Minutos, and it’s all Havana from head to toe.

First Impressions & Construction

My feeling (feeling), the Partagás Shorts been something of a ”sleeper.” You examine that in a dress box of 25, or better still the slide-lid cabinet of 50, and they look like little soldiers. They are not always the most lovely-looking cigars in the world. The wrappers can be a little rustic —a tad toothy, with veins that harken back to the fact this is a natural product grown in the red soil of the Vuelta Abajo. But I like that. I like my cigars to not appear as though they’ve been buffed in a lab. I want them to appear like they were rolled by a person who knows how to roll a cigar in a factory that has been in existence since 1845.

It feels substantial in my hand, like a brick. It is surprising that it feels so substantial for a little cigar. When I squeeze it gently, I want that firm but give-me-an-inch resistance. The majority of the Shorts I’ve smoked, and I’ve slugged through a number of boxes over the years, run firmly packed. That’s the Partagás way. They don’t want you rushing through that. The draw before each lighting generally provides me with some cold press coffee notes and a ton of “barnyard” smell that has been really interesting to me as I smoke. If you are familiar with Cuban tobacco, you know that smell. It’s earthy, gently sweet and very nostalgic.

Removing the cap is typically easy. The reason I say that is because due to the narrow 42 ring gauge, a V-cut might be enough to make the draw too tight if it’s rolled especially dense. Once that cap comes off, the airflow is absolutely perfect—just a little bit of resistance, like sipping on a thick milkshake through a straw. That’s a flavor bomb, but it is about as subtle as throwing a hand grenade into the floor. It’s just not what this cigar was designed to do. You can easily find more complex, subtle and quieter cigars than this piercingly bold monster. There are wonderful flavors in the Escurio — wonderful notes that on any other cigar would be front and center like an art exhibit at Sotheby’s — but they run alongside other flavors which constantly elbow their way forward first in line for your attention to please recognize them! from when you torch the foot until it clips flaming (be careful!) 2+ hours later.

The Flavor Profile: A Three-Act Play

Have you ever smoked a cigar that is a bit silent to start and then tears your face off half way into it? The Partagás Shorts is not really like that. It begins with an assault, and remains aggressive throughout, but the “volume” of the flavors varies in tone as you proceed.

The First Third: The Wakeup

The first couple of puffs are always a jolt. Peppery zing right off, mostly black pepper, tickles the back of the throat. But immediately behind that pepper comes a vegetal, almost herbal note. It’s fresh. I tasted a lot of cedar and a specific nuttiness, like toasted walnuts. It’s a medium-to-full-bodied start. Here, too, I’ve found that if I puff too quickly it becomes angry and bitter, so I regularly remind myself to slow down. Though it’s a short cigar, this is not a “fast” smoke. You gotta respect the tobacco.

The Second Third: The Sweet Spot

Once I was receding from the first inch — which is to say, most likely when I was watching the rain drum against the deck of that boat — the pepper began to tone down. This is where classic Partagás DNA kicks in. The flavor takes a turn in the much deeper direction. I begin to get darkness on dense leather and rich, moist earthiness. It’s as if I am walking through a forest downed after a storm. There’s a spice there, too, but now it more resembles baking spices — cinnamon or nutmeg — interspersed with an increasing creaminess. Occasionally a puff will taste precisely like what it is: a shot of espresso with a twist of lemon. It is complex for such a small vitola. I’ve heard people claim that small cigars can’t be complex but such people just aren’t paying attention.

The Final Third: The Powerhouse

When I finally reach the last couple of inches, the intensity shoots through the roof. It shifts from “solid” into “gutsy.” The flavors darken significantly. I’m referring dark chocolate, heavy tobacco and the cedar returns but shit, it’s charred now. The heat begins to grow, but if you’ve kept your pace modest, it remains within control. I can’t stop nubbing these until my fingers rage in flames. There is a note of vanilla that will occasionally peek through at the end, a weird and welcome taste after all of that earth and spice. It’s a pleasant finish; you can taste the coffee and wood, it’s not long, but tongue is left with that lingering taste for a while.

Pairing Recommendations

What should I drink with a Partagás ShortEGT? Well, on the boat I really didn’t have much choice — bottled water that was lukewarm and the adrenaline rush of an approaching storm. But in polite company, I do have a couple go-tos.

First and foremost: Coffee. This cigar was practically designed to pair with a Cuban espresso, a Cafecito. The coffee’s bitterness and the sugar’s sweetness is a harmony for the earthy, peppery notes of thie Minutos. If it’s morning or early afternoon, you want a short black coffee, stout as hell. It’s a palate cleanser and makes sure you’re not overdoing the strength of that cigar.

When the sun is down, I’m reaching for a Dark Rum. Something a little old-fashioned and somewhat caramelly. For that you’d want a Havana Club 7 Year, but any rich, molasses-forward rum will suffice. The sweet rum cuts the leather and spice of the Partagás like a dagger. I’ve also enjoyed this with a peat-heavy Islay Scotch, but you’ve gotta tread lightly that way, because sometimes the smoke from the scotch jousts with the smoke from your cigar. I’d go with the rum or the coffee unless you want the cigar to be on stage.

History and Heritage

Worth a mention that when you smoke a Partagás Short, you are smoking history. This is not some new-age concoction cooked up in a boardroom. This cigar has existed since the days predating the Cuban Revolution. It has outlasted regime changes, trade embargoes and the changing vagaries of the global market. 1845 — that was when Jaime Partagás y Ravelo began this whole affair. He was an archetypalist, the fellow who learned that aging tobacco and fermenting it correctly wasn’t just a good thing to do, it was essential.

I love the fact that in the partagás factory in Havana they still have a Lector.

A person who actually sits on a high platform and reads the news or some classic literature to the torcedores (the rollers) as they work. I like to think the guy who rolled this particular cigar of mine was listening to a reading of The Count of Monte Cristo, or possibly just the morning’s sports scores. There’s an irreproducible human element to these cigars that you just don’t get with machine-made stuff. It is a craft, and the Shorts are that craft in miniature.

The Verdict

So is the Partagás Shorts for you?

Probably not. If you want a faint, palatable (creamy-only) breeze to puff on while out mowing the lawn — this isn’t it. This is a dense, potent and sometimes challenging little smoke. It’s for that guy who has just forty minutes but desires the full-bodied experience of a much larger cigar.

It’s what I consider one of the most even Cuban out there. Whether you’re buying them in the dress box or the 50-cab (pick up a 50-cab if you can find it, as they age better in slide-lid boxes), you know what you’re getting. You’re getting spice, you’re getting earth and you get that patented Partagás power.

On the sailboat that day, as the rain finally began to come down hard and a breeze started howling through the rigging, I took one last draw on the Short and flicked it overboard into the roiling grey water.

I felt centered. I felt ready. It’s funny what a wad of rolled-up leaf can do. It’s not the longest smoke of my life — and certainly not the most relaxing — but it was just what I needed. It’s a no-nonsense classic. Solid. Reliable. And it never tries to be more than it is.

If you haven’t tested one, treat yourself to it. Get a box of them, stow it toward the back of your humidor for a year or so and then reach in one day when you’ve got time in short supply but nothing to scratch that itch for real. You won’t regret it.

The Bottom Line: An indispensable reference for the committed enthusiast. It’s the classic “short and stout” Cuban that accomplishes so much in such a small package.

Total Smoking Time: 35-45 Minutes.

Body: Medium-Full.

Strength: Full.