Trinidad Reyes

Description

I was out on a balcony, forty-two stories above the grid of Manhattan, watching the sun slowly swan dive behind the Hudson. You know that particular New York orange? The one that whacks against the glass of the Midtown towers and turns the entire world into something glowing from the inside out? That was the moment. I’d just completed a project that had been eating my lunch for six months and for once felt some authentic pride. We’re not talking about the smug kind, just a quiet sense that I’d accomplished what I had hoped to do.

I didn’t fancy a double corona. I didn’t want to have to sit there for two hours and contemplate the mysteries of the universe. I wanted something short, punchy and polished — something that reflected the sharp lines of the skyline and what my weighty gold watch suggested. I unpacked my travel humidor and pulled out a small, tan stick with an interesting little pigtail on the head. It felt right. I men it was reward time, the fruits of my labor.

That smoke? The Trinidad Reyes. It’s a small giant, and if you haven’t had the pleasure of burning one while the world turns gold, then you are missing out on one of life’s better shortcuts to happiness.

The Specs

A Look At It: Build And Feel

When I opened the box of 12 and took out the Reyes, one thing struck me at once about its wrapper. It has this color that I’m calling “dark latte.” It’s not dark like a Maduro but it’s got a richness to it that appears healthy.” There’s an oily sheen that shimmers in the light (great for when you want to head out at sunset) and the veins are so fine you’d think they steam-ironed it before they rolled up the leaf.

I’ve always adored the iconic Trinidad pigtell cap. It’s a little bit of a flex, quite frankly. It informs you that this little number happened to come out of the El Laguito factory, which is where they roll the top-tier CoHibas. It’s even a bit of craftsmanship that’s saying to you, “Yeah, I’m small but do notice the pedigree.” In my hand, it felt solid. No soft spots, no lumps. All a satisfying, steady roll that promised nice draw. On the pre-light I tasted some sweet hay and a hint of floral tea. It was clean. I snipped the cap just past the pigtail and prepared to smoke.

Do you ever smoke one of those cigars that just feels right in the penthouse? This is the one. It’s not showy, but it has a sort of “if you know, you know” swagger. It represents just 0.2 percent of Habanos production, so carrying one makes you feel like you’re a member of a very exclusive, very lucky club.

The First Third: Sweet Biscuits, White Tea

As soon as flames hit the foot, I received a puff of smoke that smelled like an up-market bakery. I mean sweet tea biscuits with a hint of vanilla. There’s hardly any spice here: wonderful when you actually want to taste the tobacco. It’s slick, in a well-tailored-suit kind of way.

The first few drags were curiously light and tasty. I picked up this sort of floral white tea note on it — very delicate, very beautiful. It’s the type of flavor that demands a bit of slowing down and paying attention. I was sitting there, and I was looking out at the Chrysler Building, and the smoke — it was kind of just dancing in the air. It’s a light grey ash that holds well, even though the ring gauge is 40. It’s a “linear” beginning, in that it doesn’t immediately attempt to befuddle you with a zillion transitions. It’s just like, here I am, I’m delicious and enjoy the view.’

I got to say, it is just the right medium strength for an afternoon or early evening. It doesn’t kick you in the teeth. It’s less shouting so much as polite conversation.

The Second Third: Latte Gets in Gear

As I smoked toward the middle of the stick, the flavors deepened. That initial biscuit sweetness hardened into something a little meatier — like a caramel latte dusted with toasted oak. None of it’s reinventing the wheel, but the creaminess takes center stage here. It’s rich on the tongue, almost buttery.

On the finish I started to pick up on some medium roast coffee. It’s not bitter, though. It’s more reminiscent of the scent that wafts from a new bag of beans being torn open. The pièce de résistance of the Trinidad Reyes is the retrohale. Blow a little smoke back through your nose and you’ll get hit with that floral note again, but this time it’s swaddled in salted caramel. It’s a wild mix, but it works because that Vuelta Abajo leaf is just such high quality and you know it.

I was reclining in my chair, looking out over the city as the lights flickered on. The Reyes burned as straight as if they had rolled off a machine — no touch-ups. A huge plus for a little cigar is the amount of smoke it produces. It’s not thin or wispy; it has body. It had a certain heft, despite its size. It’s the type of cigar that makes you realize you don’t need a huge Churchill to have a “big” experience.

The Third Tier: The Espresso Finish

Once I was down to that final inch and a half, the sweetness began to recede and be pushed into the background by some subtler, toastier ones. The caramel became burnt sugar, and the latte an espresso shot. There was a touch more woodiness, now — some toasted oak specifically and an ever-so-slight note of herbal bean that I often find in Trinidads.

As it got shorter, it never grew hot or harsh. That’s the indicator of a well-seasoned, well-made Cuban. I’ve smoked lots of small cigars that become a hot mess toward the end; this one, however, stayed elevated until my fingers were nearly touching the ember. But the saltiness I’d previously detected amped up, which actually evened out what vanilla was left.

I did not want to stop reading it. I was nubbing it, a tool I use to get every last pull of that El Laguito magic. And as the last of the sun vanished and the New York night took hold, the Reyes gave me one last puff of their rich, earthy coffee, and that was it. Solid. Truly solid.

The Pairing: What to Sip

Feeling like the “king of the world” up there in that penthouse, I went with a monstrosity collar shirt here.

I suspect a light, aged Cuban rum — the likes of Havana Club 7 — would be its natural bedfellow. The Rum’s sweetness complements the caramel profile of the cigar beautifully.

If you’re smoking this in the morning or early afternoon, however, make it a double espresso. The Reyes, though, has some “latte” character paired with just enough body to make it feel like a continuation of the coffee. More of a spirits person, and want to try something closer to home in New York?Arrays of Fire A neat pour of a high-rye bourbon gives the inside-your-mouth-is-on-fire zing on your palate; it’s a good spicy counterpart to the cigar’s creaminess. But honestly? You could even drink a sparkling water with a twist of lime, because this cigar has enough flavor to carry the conversation alone.

The Back Story: No Longer a Secret

You have to remember, for ages you couldn’t even purchase a Trinidad. They began as diplomatic gifts in 1969, just as Cohiba did. They were the Cuban tobacco world’s “best-kept secret,” distributed by Castro himself to foreign dignitaries. They didn’t even go commercial until 1998, and the Reyes vitola did not emerge until 2004.

When you smoke a Reyes, you are smoking some of that history. It’s named for the city of La Santísima Trinidad, a UNESCO world heritage site, and you can taste that old-world soul in the blend. It’s a “puro,” which means every little bit of tobacco in there is from the Vuelta Abajo. No fillers, no shortcuts. No airs and no graces, just one hundred percent Cuban roots in 110mm.

The Verdict

Listen, I’ve smoked my bear of “beast” cigars that require an entire afternoon to slog through. But there’s a certain charm in the brevity of the Trinidad Reyes. It provides you with a high-end, complicated experience in 30 to 40 minutes. It’s the ultimate smoke for when you want the best, but don’t have all day to spend hanging out waiting for it.

Is it the least expensive petit corona in existence? No. But you’re paying for the El Laguito construction and that particular, creamy Trinidad profile you can’t find anywhere else. It’s consistent, it’s beautiful to look at, and it gets the job done every time.

If you’re on a rooftop somewhere, or maybe just settled back into your favorite chair after a long day of winning, do yourself a favor: Pleasure yourself! Reach for a Reyes. It’s a little cigar for big times. It’s easy, it’s reliable and it is one hell of a way to watch the sun go down.

Final Thought:If I were stranded on a deserted island and could have just one box of small cigars, these would be the ones.

No hesitation. It’s a lesson in what a Petit Corona should be.