Description

A Moment of Silence in the Study: The Rafael Gonzalez Panetelas Extra

I recall the dust motes swirling in the late afternoon sunshine that sliced through the heavy velvet curtains of my father’s study. I had just completed a three-month solo journey across the backroads of Andalusia — less to find myself and more to lose the noise of a life in a city that had become too loud. I was back, I was winning in my quiet way and the feeling could not have been more celebratory. But this wasn’t the sort of celebration that warranted a brass band playing and opening up a bottle of cheap bubbly. It was of the sort that required a deep leather chair and the silence of a room packed with old books and didn’t try too hard to impress me.

There I sat a little dirt from the road still on my boots, studying the mahogany desk where my old man used to balance his ledgers. I dug into my travel humidor for something I’d been saving for the homecoming. It wasn’t a chunky, imposing Churchill or an extravagant limited edition. It was something sleek, unassuming and classic. I longed for something that tasted of history without the high price tag of a museum piece.

That smoke? The Rafael Gonzalez Panetelas Extra. It’s a cigar that seems like it belongs in a room where the clocks tick just slightly more slowly. It’s not a “look at me” cigar. It’s a “sit with me” cigar. I’ve smoked a lot of sticks in my time, but for some inexplicable reason this particular vitola grounds me every time I light one up.

The Specs

Before I get into the details on how this thing smokes, lets take a closer look at the vitals. You must KNOW what you are holding in your hand BEFORE you clip the cap.

The Construction: A Hand-Rolled Tradition

I’ve got to tell you, there’s a whole lotta shit in cigar land about “short filler.” Some blokes are a bit snobbish about it, as if it’s the offcuts they pulled out of the factory bin. But with the Rafael Gonzalez Panetelas Extra, you’re getting a handmade product that’s constructed with tobacco from Vuelta Abajo—the promised land of Cuban leaf. This isn’t some machine-chopped scrap. They went to this around 2002, making them handmade, and you can feel there is a difference in the roll.

I picked it up in my father’s study and its wrapping seemed a little rough. This is not that oily, silky leaf which will be found on some of the highfalutin Montecristos. It’s a little toothy, a little rough-around-the-edges — which is actually where I prefer to be when I’m feeling reflective. It feels real. The weight is light — the official specs say around 6.10 grams — and it feels nimble between the fingers. The cold draw gave me a taste of what was to come: Some hay, sweetness and the unmistakable Cuban “twang” that has never let me down in the past.

The pull was oddly strong, but not obstructed. For a 37 ring gauge, you always worry about it being too tight, like sucking milkshake through a coffee stirrer. But this one? Solid. It provided just the right amount of resistance to allow the smoke to cool.

The First Third: Flowers and Sugar

I lit a long wooden match, burned off the sulfur at the end, and toasted the foot. The first couple of drags tasted like it would smell, taking a walk in the garden after a rainstorm. I’m not just being poetic, either — there’s a real sugar-floral smell to this cigar that I’ve found hard to come by elsewhere. It’s not as heavy on the tongue, and it doesn’t immediately douse you in thick oils.

I got a little bit of almond right out the gate. It’s a clean flavor, not muddy in the least. The study reeked of pungent blue smoke as I sat within it. It’s the kind of smoke that, should your wife walk in and she isn’t a smoker, will not offend her or stay in the curtains for three weeks. There’s a light chocolate note in the background, but not much; it would be more like dusting of cocoa powder than rich truffle. It’s elegant. Do you ever smoke, the way something tastes like it doesn’t taste so much as whispers? This is it.

The Second Third: The Body Wakes Up

Getting into the halfway point and still I was surprised at how solid of an ash this little short-filler was maintaining. I’ve watched long-fillers fall apart quicker than this. The flavor profile began to change here from that floral sweetness to something a bit more earthy. I began to get notes of espresso — not the acrid sludge at the bottom of the cup, but a silky, frothy latte.

There is a hint of spice that sneaks in here, too. It’s not black pepper in the back of your throat; it’s more like a warm cinnamon, or a slight amount of nutmeg. The body went from weight to substance. I realized I was leaning back in the chair, observing smoke curling up to the ceiling and pondering that “secret blend” Márquez Rafael González allegedly had invented. Provenance or marketing hype, the balance in the second third is amazing. (And the burn remained even, which I always find to be kind.) I cannot stand monitoring a cigar with the flame of a lighter every five minutes when I want to relax.

The Final Third: A Nutty Goodbye

At the end, when I was down to the last couple of inches, it really found its stride. The floral aromas were gone, replaced by luscious, nutty finish.’ Think toasted walnuts or hazelnuts. It became a little warmer, the fate of all smaller ring gauge cigars, but it was never “nasty.” Sometimes those smaller Cubans can get bitter at the end, but my Panetelas Extra never twisted sour.

I did pick up a little cedar and perhaps just a hint of leather toward the finish. It’s not a simple little stick given it is one that seems to be very easily overlooked by many smokers and enthusiasts in Habanos’ entire catalogue. I smoked it down to the nub, my fingers feeling the heat. It felt like the 60-minute ride that life required at that point. I didn’t need a two-hour chunk as much as I needed one solid hour of quality.

Pairing Recommendations

So what do you drink when something is this delicate? If you reach for a heavy, smoky Scotch, you’re going to drown out everything the Rafael Gonzalez is trying to whisper in your ear. You’ll taste just the campfire and you will have missed all the almond and floral notes.

Id recommend a straight-up black coffee or a café con leche.” The creamy nature of the coffee marries brilliantly with the espresso tones in the second third. And if I want something stronger, a light Cuban rum — a Havana Club 3 Year would be the perfect choice. It possesses that touch of sweetness that reflects the sense of the floral sugar in the opening third. I went with a plain glass of sparkling water with a twist of lime at my father’s study. I wanted to be able to taste the tobacco, and I found that the bubbles cleansed my palate for each puff.

The Verdict

So, who is this cigar for? If you’re the type of cigar smoker who smokes nothing but “Ligero bombs” that make your head spin, then this may be too polite for you. But if you care about nuance, if you’re looking for a cigar to smoke with morning coffee or during an afternoon of quiet contemplation — this is a winner.

It’s a serious smoker’s mild cigar. It doesn’t try to hit you with strength; it tries to hit you with balance. And let’s face it, they are often price friendly versus the big name Cuban brands. You’re getting Vuelta Abajo tobacco and handmade construction and a brand history that stretches back before 1960 for less than the price of a Cohiba Siglo I.

I would say buy a box of 25 and let them rest for about three to five years. I’ve tasted these fresh, and they’re good, but a bit of age and those floral and nutty notes really start to sing. They lose that “young” character and get really round.

I sat and finished that smoke, and as I did, three months of travel came off my back and shoulders.

The Rafael Gonzalez Panetelas Extra tasted the way it was expected to taste. It didn’t require I focus on it; but it was a perfect environment for me to be alone with my own thoughts.

Final Thought: It’s a modest classic. It’s just the type of cigar that makes you remember why you got into smoking in the first place. Not to rank, but to exist. Solid. Just plain solid.