Description





Trinidad Fundadores Review

I was kicking up dust on the backroads of the valley last spring when I came upon it. Underneath a moth-eaten tarp in a barn that smelled more of damp earth and abandoned dreams than agriculture sat a 1953 Buick Roadmaster. It was an unusual locate, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat if you have oil in your veins. Sure, the chrome was pitted and the upholstery had seen better decades of leather workouts, but those lines — man, were they ever something. Long, sweeping, and unapologetically elegant. It wasn’t a haul-the-groceries car, it was a journey-take car.

I opened the door and sat at the wheel, which squawked a little under my load as the springs relaxed (the doors on cars back then had indeed been hung onto something).I just stared out over that hugely flat hood.

I began to think about how we do not really make things like this anymore. It is all tight, neat and plastic now. We no longer have patience for the slow game, for the long burn, for that silhouette that’s not so rushed to get from a front bumper to a tailfin. I fished out my coat pocket to search for something befitting the soul of that dusty Buick. My fingers touched a narrow, cedar-wrapped tube I had been keeping for just such a time as this.

That smoke? The Trinidad Fundadores. It’s the cigar that compares to that ’53 Roadmaster — long, thin and built with a level of grace that feels almost misplaced in our modern rush-about world.

The Specs

Product Name Trinidad Fundadores
Origin Cuba (Vuelta Abajo)
Vitola Laguito No. 1 (Lancero)
Length 192 mm (7 1/2 inches)
Ring Gauge 40
Wrapper Cuban Vuelta Abajo
Binder Cuban Vuelta Abajo
Filler Cuban Vuelta Abajo (Long Filler)
Strength Medium

First Impressions & Construction

I’ve got to say, there’s something about a Laguito No. 1 that feels right in the hand. You ever pick up a cigar and wonder why you’re not wearing a tailored suit even though you’re actually in the full on barn surrounded by cobwebs? That’s the Fundadores. It’s a 7 1/2-inch example of Cuban craftsmanship, with a ring gauge of 40 — skinny by today’s “bigger is better” standards. But that’s the point. It’s elegant.

The wrapper on mine was a gorgeous, lightly oily Colorado shade — not so dark and varnished but with plenty of tanning that told of good fermentation.

The signature pigtail cap is the icing on the cake. It’s a cute little touch — an acknowledgment that these were once the private stash of Cuban diplomats before they went commercial in the first place, in ’98. I gave a light squeeze and it was a solid stick no soft spots which is rare with these long thin vitolas. If they’re rolled too tight, it’s going to be a workout just pulling on them for one puff. If they are too loose, they burn hot. This one felt solid.

The cold draw was a punch of sweet hay with a touch of floral musk. I snipped the cap — with a little extra care, because you don’t want to wreck that pigtail job — and took a cold draw. It was perfect. Just enough resistance to tell me I’d have to work for it a tiny bit but nothing reminiscent of sucking through a clogged straw. I took out a wooden and lit it, charing the sulfur then toasting the foot. The smell alone could have made me lean back into that old Buick’s bench seat and forget the world for a while.

The First Third: The Greeting

The first few puffs are always the best.

With the Fundadores, it doesn’t attack you swinging. It’s a little more of a polite handshake. I definitely got an immediate wash of cedar and a light, but very specific honey sweetness. It’s not a cloying sweetness, mind you — more like that of the scent of a beehive in the sun. There’s a floral aspect here that I’ve only ever encountered in premium Cuban leaf, from Vuelta Abajo tobacco to be more specific. It’s delicate.

At about the inch mark, I began to feel a mild white pepper tickling my throat. It wasn’t aggressive; it was subtle, reminding me that this is a serious cigar after all. The smoke was also surprisingly creamy for a thin ring size. With Lanceros, I find you need to take your time. Oh, you can’t smoke it like a chimney or you’ll burn the oil and turn the whole thing bitter. I smoked slow, not rushing it … and got this excellent ash – a salt-and-pepper combination that held well (you’d expect no less from the 40 ring gauge).

The Second Third: Rolling With the Punches

When I got to the middle third, a rich fragrant fog had filled the car. This is really when the Fundadores gets to spread its wings. The floweriness receded, and the profile slid onto something far more “gourmet.” I began to get some roasted almonds, and a very clean vanilla note. It was kind of what I didn’t know I wanted — like a superior latte, minus the sugar — creamy coffee with kick, on the after end.

I did feel the body get a little fuller here. It went from solid to something fairly weighty. I began to pick up notes of leather and a citrus zest that cleansed the palate. It’s a complex transition. One moment you’re thinking of nuts and cream, the next you have this wake-you-up slam of bright orangey pop to make your taste buds stand at attention. It’s the type of evolution that has you not thinking about your chores and instead pondering on the history of El Laguito factory where these were first brought into this world. The soul of that master blender, Raul Valladares, is present in the blend even though production moved to Pinar del Río years ago.

The Final Third: The Deep End

When I hit the end stretch, the “Founders” (that’s what Fundadores means, after all) had decided to stop screwing around. Sweetness dissipated, replaced by deep earthiness of the tobacco. It wasn’t earthy, though — it was more like old oak and caramelized nuts. The espresso flavors gained momentum, and the spice transformed from a white pepper to something spicier, a dark cinnamon.

It didn’t get mushy even down to the nub. That’s how you can tell a well-made Cuban. The heat was easy to handle and the flavors distinct. It had a long lingering aftertaste, but the lasting impression in my mouth is of rich chocolate. I smoked that thing until my fingers started to warm, not ready to put it out. It’s a 90 to 120-minute commitment, and I loved each minute of it. It’s decidedly slow-motion in a high-speed world.

The Pairing

If you’re going to pop one of these suckers, don’t insult it with soda. I was in a barn, so I didn’t have my full bar within arm’s reach, but if I were at home this week, I’d go one of two ways. To begin, some top-shelf Cuban rum, like Havana Club 7 or Seleccion de Maestros. The rum’s molasses sweetness is a great match for this smokes honey and cedar in the first half.

If you drink coffee, the black espresso is what you need. The coffee like bitterness powering through the creaminess from the second third really brings forward those roasted almond sort of tasting notes. “I wouldn’t use a heavily peated Scotch here; you would overpower the subtle floral and citrus notes that combined to give us the Fundadores.” You want an accompaniment, not a competitor.

The Verdict

Look, I’m going to be straight with you. Not everyone is going to like the Trinidad Fundadores. If you’re the kind of smoker who’s looking for a nicotine bomb flavored like a campfire, keep going. This is a patient cigar. It is for the guy who understands a thin ring gauge and for someone who knows how much history accrues around something that was once a secret handshake between world leaders.

It’s a masterpiece of balance. It was a great draw, even burn and the flavors developed like a well crafted novel. “.. has that old world feel that is getting more difficult to find. It’s not cheap, and it’s not always readily available, accounting for only a minuscule portion of Habanos production. But when you do find one? It’s worth the hunt.

And as I got out of that old Buick and looked it at the car, I had a weird feeling of being connected to the cigar via that car.

They were both remnants of an era when beauty wasn’t a luxury, but the norm. The Fundadores isn’t simply a smoke; it’s a signal to slow down and take notice of the handiwork. Solid. Truly solid.

Final Thoughts: You know, if you’ve got a couple of hours and some quiet thinking space, this is the cigar that wants to be in your hand. It’s a trip through some of the finest tobacco that the Vuelta Abajo has to showcase, and it’s one I’d take again anytime.