Ramon Allones Specially Selected

Description

Product Specifications

I wanted something to ground me. I wanted something that tasted like the earth and felt like a hunk of history in my hand. I fished around in the travel humidor and came out with a stick that had more hair on it than the coast itself. I didn’t want anything delicate or floral.

I was hoping for something a little bit gritty. I needed something that could hold up against the salt air and the bitter dregs of coffee. That smoke? The
Ramón Allones Specially Selected
.

You ever have one of those days where the whole world is crumbling around you … and the only thing that makes any sense is a cigar in your hand? That was me on that boat. The Transition: The RASS
I have consumed many boxes of these over the years. It’s called the “RASS” for short, and if you’ve been hanging around the humidor a few times, then you know it has a reputation of being one of the meatier Cubans about town.

It’s not trying to be anything fancy, or a limited-edition showpiece. It’s a worker’s cigar, even if lately it has acquired something of a cult following among the high-society boys. I bit at the cap — don’t judge, my cutter was buried in my tackle box — and felt that familiar, solid resistance. This is not light, airy smoke.

It’s a commitment. Product Specifications
Product Name
Ramón Allones Specially Selected (Cuban)
Wrapper/Binder/Filler
100% Cuban Tobacco
Construction: Built Like a Tank
Examining the RASS in the low morning light, I see that it is a very dark and oily Colorado wrapper.

And it wasn’t a perfectly smooth one — there were veins, a little toothiness — but that’s what I like about Ramón Allones. It looks handmade. It appears as though someone in a Havana factory had actually rolled it, instead of having it cranked out by a machine. The hand feel is buttoned up.

There is no sponginess, no “squish” that implies a lazy roll. It’s filled to the brim with that premium Cuban leaf. The cold draw was just what I expected lots of barnyard, wet earth with a side helping of dried hay. Some people read “barnyard” and believe I’m criticizing the cigar.

I’m not. If you know, you know. It’s that lush yet heady, fermented scent that announces the coming of a deep, complex experience. It smelled like a Pinar del Río rainy afternoon.

I toasted the foot with a cedar spill I’d tucked in my pocket, its flame twinkling in the sea breeze and let those first plumes of smoke waft off into the fog. Flavor Profile: The First Third
For the first few hits there is always an alarm that brings me back.

Some Cubans begin creamy and courteous, but not the Specially Selected; it’s out swinging. There’s a spice right up front—nothing scorchingly peppery, more what strikes me as warm, baking spice combined with notes of heavy nuttiness. Think toasted walnuts and maybe a pinch of nutmeg. I sipped my coffee, the steam rising to my face, and likes cans were popping.

The bitterness of the bean was a perfect match with the sweet earthiness of the tobacco. Its soul, or chocolate note, as I call it, began to sneak in about an inch down. It wasn’t a milk chocolate; it was more of a dry, powdery cocoa. It rounded out the “barnyard” funk that lurked around in the background.

Thick and white the smoke came pouring out, hanging in the damp air like a ghost. It was smooth in the retrohale despite being something above medium- to full-bodied to start this stick, however, I wouldn’t suggest shoving too much of it through your nose if you haven’t gotten used to your Cuban strength quite yet. The Middle Third: The Second Act
By now, a little ways out on the boat, the RASS had found a groove.

Here’s where the cigar really starts to get interesting. The spice did fade just a bit with the leather becoming much richer. It’s the type of taste that conjures an old library or a well-aged saddle. There’s something round here in the flavor.

Everything is balanced. And the earthiness deepened, turning darker, somewhere between rich potting soil after a rain and tar. The construction stood up well to the wind.

Ash was motted gray and clung for almost two inches before I flicked it into the Atlantic. There was a very faint sweetness — sort of like dark honey or molasses — that would occasionally rear its head every few puffs. It’s a complex little beast. One moment you’re sipping charred cedar, the next a jolt of creamy espresso.

It distracted my mind from the “melancholic fog” and allowed me to concentrate on transforming the flavors. I have to say, for a cigar that’s been on the market since 1837, I’d say they haven’t lost the secret recipe when it comes to making things interesting. The Final Third (The Bitter End)
Just as the sun’s rays began to break through the dull morning sky, I hit my last third.

Enter, “Specially Selected,” where the “Full Strength” factor comes into play. The flavors got much darker. The cocoa morphed into espresso, thick and heavy, and the spice also came back strong. Nothing really grating, but present for sure.

Leather notes survived in force, but now they had the company of a charred wood flavor that felt very traditional, old world if you will. The heat wasn’t too much even as I approached the nub. A lot of times these shorter robustos can have a tendency to get “squishy” or bitter at the end, but this one stayed firm. The finish was earthy and it lasted on my pallet long after the smoke escaped.

It’s a thick finish, the type that makes you want to just be still and think about stuff for a while. I smoked it until my fingers were dancing with the cherry, refusing to release either its warmth or distraction. Pairing: What to Drink?

I drank black coffee on the boat and, actually, it’s a great pairing.

The acidics and bitterness of the coffee body were a perfect match for the oily Cuban tobacco. If I were back home on my porch, though, I would go for a dark rum that has been aged — something such as a Havana Club 7 or maybe a Diplomático. You’ll want something with sufficient sugar and heft to combat the force of that RASS. Maybe a peaty Scotch is just over the top, since that smoke-on-smoke could tend to smudge out those chocolate subtleties, but a good bourbon with more of a caramel note would be ideal.

History and Herita