Quai D’orsay Imperiales

Description

“`html

Hunched in a leather armchair that’s seen better decades, crammed into the corner of some darkened lounge somewhere in Miami, you start to notice things. The humidity outside trying to scramble through the glass door, the clack of dominoes from the sidewalk, and blue smoke moving slowly around beneath a languorous ceiling fan. I was in one of those moods that are reflective, and maybe a bit regretful, and all you want to do is watch the world go by at half-speed. A buddy of mine, a dude who’s been scoping rare boxes before I was even old enough to buy a pack of matches legally, sat across from me.

He didn’t say much. He simply thrust a long elegant cigar out of his coat pocket and into my hand. No flash band, no contemporary marketing gimmicks. Only that, discreetly Quai d’Orsay.
“I thought they didn’t make these anymore,” I said, rolling the Churchill between my fingers.
“They did,” he said, striking a cedar spill. “And then they didn’t.

Enjoy the ghost, my friend.”
That smoke? The
Quai d’Orsay Imperiales
. It’s a cigar with a history as long as its vitola, and there in the Miami sun I realized that I held a morsel of Franco-Cuban diplomacy on my palm. Rarely do you get a discontinued legend that has burst out of retirement to play a couple more concert dates, so to speak.

The Specs
But before I get into how this thing smoked, let’s look at the hard numbers.

This isn’t a little, stubby Robusto you can do between meetings. This is a commitment. Feature
Details
Product Type
Cigar (Hand-rolled)
Brand
Quai d’Orsay
Weight
15.07 grams
Wrapper/Binder/Filler
Vuelta Abajo, Cuba
Build The Feel of the Julieta No. 2
The first thing I noticed when I first got my hands on the Imperiales was its weight. At more than 15 grams, it is weighty but not heavy.

It comes with a “Julieta No. 2,” as they call them in the factory, or what many of us refer to simply as a Churchill. It’s a classical format, the type of cigar that will make you want to sit on a porch and ponder your life choices for two hours. The wrapper was a medium ggolden-brown — what the old- timers call
claro
. It is smooth — silky, even — to the touch, also typical of the Quai d’Orsay brand.

You’re not going to get those dark, oily, toothy wrappers here. This is refined. I squeezed it gently: firm but with just enough give to assure suckling wasn’t akin to trying to sip through a blocked straw. The cold draw was the first hint of things to come.

It was not that earthy or peppery taste you get from a Partagas. This was airy — there were whispers of dry hay and a faint sweetness, like dried flowers. I sliced the cap straight and toasted the foot low, allowing the first puff to rest. Flavor Profile: A Three-Act Play
I’ve smoked a lot of Cubans, and many are eager to punch you in the throat with spice inside of five.

The Imperiales isn’t like that. It’s polite. It taps on the door and asks to be let in. First up: THE FIRST THIRD – FLORAL/WOODY
The opening was incredibly smooth.

I mean “velvet on the tongue” smooth. The lead note was wood — light, irradiating cedar — but one that had this fragile floral undercoating. You know when you’ve walked through a garden after the rain? It had that kind of newness.

It’s light-bodied, for sure. If you’re seeking a nicotine rush powerful enough to make your head swirl, then The Wrong Stick’s what you must not click. This is about finesse. My palate felt just a little bit dry, which I quite liked; it made me feel the need to gulp down another sip of my drink to quench the thirst.

Second Third: The Fruit Comes Out
In the middle of the cigar, it started to come together.

The woody had remained, but the floral turned into something a touch fruitier. Not exactly a bowl of cherries, more like a suggestion of dried apricot or orange peel. It’s subtle. Really it’s in the details, if you look for it.

The smoke texture held as a solid — substantial enough to seem present, but never heavy. The burn was freakishly straight, a real credit to the guys that roll their sticks in the factory. Very often, with a cigar this long, you’d expect a “canoe” or some wonky burn lines, but this one stayed in check. The Final Third: Refined Intensity
As I smoked the Double Connecticut down to the final two inches or so, strength picked up a notch (perhaps two) — certainly reaching true medium territory

.

The flavors were a little fuller, more aromatic. The wood notes became a little darker, that fruitiness grew less specific and transformed into a more general “toasted” flavor. And it never once turned bitter, even halfway through the last cup. I have had many a Churchill fall apart into one hot, bitterly acrid mess in the last third but not the Imperiales.

I nubbed it, mostly because I didn’t want the party to stop. History: The French Connection
I have to say, the story behind this brand is half the fun of smoking it. In 1974, SEITA (French tobacco monopoly) decided that they need their own cigar for the French market. They were something light, elegant and sophisticated — something that would go well with champagne or a light cognac.

So, Habanos S.A. introduced Quai d’Orsay (pronounced kay-dor-say), named for the wharf in Paris where the France’s tobacco office was situated. The Imperiales was the flagship. But, in the way of the cigar world, tastes evolved. Men began to want shorter, fatter, more pungent smokes.

Habanos pulled the plug on the Imperiales in about 2014 or 2015. A sad day for fans of the “light and long” style. But wait — 2023 arrives and they say it’s coming back — as a limited travel humidor available only in duty-free shops. It would be like a band that breaks its promise by doing one final stadium tour.

In Miami, smoking this felt like a tribute to that history. It’s a cigar that has no business existing in a world of “bold” and “intense,” but here it is, doing nothing if not class. Pairing: What to Drink?

You have to be careful here. If you pair this with a peaty Scotch or something like a heavy Stout, surrounding that would make the flavors of the cigar drown out and not be able to tell you what it’s trying to say. I’d do a light rum, something with maybe a little bit of age but not too much stuff in it. We never turn down a cafecito, the traditional Cuban coffee, whose bitterness marries well with the floral sweetness of the tobacco.

And if you are feeling fancy, a glass of vintage Champagne or a slice of crisp white wine would indeed do the trick. The French, you know what they were doing when they dreamt up this blend. Value and Use: Who is this for? The fact is, the Imperiales simply isn’t a “daily driver.” It’s too long, too hard to locate and, let’s not mince words here, it demands a little bit too much attention.

This one’s for the pal who has two hours to spare (and wants to casualties be damned).
taste
his tobacco. It’s a cigar for the collector who cares about history of the Vuelta Abajo region and also wants to see what a “li
“`