Trinidad Robusto Extra

Description

I was sitting on a stretch of sand that most people don’t know exists. It’s a little pocket of coastline on the western edge of Cuba, far enough away from the tourist traps that the only sounds you hear are the rhythmic slap of the Caribbean against the limestone and the occasional rustle of a palm frond. The sun was doing that slow, heavy sink toward the horizon, turning the sky into a bruised purple and gold. I was feeling reflective, the kind of mood that only hits when you’re truly alone with your thoughts.

I reached into my travel bag to find my lighter, but my fingers brushed against an old, weathered leather wallet I hadn’t used in years. Tucked inside was a grainy Polaroid from 2004. It was a photo of me and an old friend, sitting in a dimly lit lounge in Havana, clouds of smoke obscuring our faces. In the photo, I was holding a cigar that looked massive in my younger hands—a Trinidad Robusto Extra. That was back when they first hit the scene, before they disappeared into the “discontinued” archives in 2012. Looking at that photo, I could almost taste the salt air and the rich, creamy tobacco from twenty years ago. I felt a pang of nostalgia, not just for the youth in the picture, but for that specific smoke.

You ever have a flavor profile burned into your memory so deeply that a single image brings it back? I spent years hunting for boxes of those original Robusto Extras in dusty humidors across Europe and the Middle East, usually coming up empty-handed or finding sticks that had long since lost their soul. But things change. The world turns, and sometimes, the things we miss actually come back around. That smoke? The Trinidad Robusto Extra is officially back in the rotation, and I finally got my hands on the 2024 relaunch to see if it lives up to the ghost in my wallet.

The Specs

Construction: The El Laguito Touch

I gotta say, there’s something about a cigar coming out of the El Laguito factory that just feels right. It’s the same place where they roll Cohibas, and you can tell the rollers there have a certain level of muscle memory. This isn’t a small stick. At 155 mm with a 50 ring gauge, it’s got some heft to it. It feels substantial in the hand, like a tool meant for a job, but the wrapper is as smooth as a silk sheet. It’s got that signature Trinidad pigtail cap—small, neat, and twisted with precision. I’ve always found the pigtail to be a classy touch; it’s like the cigar is wearing a little tuxedo.

The color is a beautiful Colorado shade—reddish-brown, oily, and without any aggressive veins. When I gave it a gentle squeeze, the pack felt consistent from the foot to the head. No soft spots, no lumps. I decided to skip the cutter and just pull the pigtail off with my teeth, a bit of a rustic move, but it worked. The pre-light draw was spot on. I got hit with a mix of hay, dry cedar, and a faint sweetness that reminded me of dried apricots. It felt airy but held just enough resistance to let me know the burn wasn’t going to run away from me.

The First Third: A Soft Opening

The first few puffs are always the most telling. With the Robusto Extra, it doesn’t try to knock your teeth out right away. It’s polite. The initial smoke output is thick and white, carrying a very distinct cedar aroma. I noticed right off the bat that the “Trinidad funk”—that floral, slightly salty, and earthy mix—was present and accounted for. It’s a medium-bodied start, very creamy on the palate. If you’ve ever had a well-made latte where the foam is just thick enough to coat your tongue, that’s the texture here.

About an inch in, a bit of nuttiness started to creep in. Think toasted almonds or cashews. It’s not aggressive spice; it’s more of a warm sensation at the back of the throat. The burn line was straight enough that I didn’t have to touch it up, which is a relief because when you’re paying these kinds of prices, you don’t want to be playing surgeon with your lighter every five minutes. The ash was a light grey, holding firm for nearly two inches before I decided to tap it off. It’s a solid start, very refined, very “diplomatic,” which makes sense given the brand’s history.

The Second Third: Finding the Groove

As I moved into the middle of the cigar, the body stepped up a notch. We moved from a straight medium to a solid medium-full. This is where the complexity really started to show its face. The cedar remained the backbone, but the creaminess took a backseat to a more robust roasted coffee note. It wasn’t bitter, though. It was more like the smell of fresh beans being ground in a high-end shop.

I started picking up some subtle baking spices—maybe a hint of nutmeg or cinnamon—especially on the retrohale. You really have to blow a bit of smoke through your nose with this one to get the full picture. If you just puff and dump, you’re missing half the story. There’s a floral quality that pops up every now and then, almost like honey suckle, which balances out the deeper wood notes. It’s a balanced experience. Nothing is fighting for dominance; everything is just working in harmony. I found myself leaning back, watching the smoke curl up into the air, and for a second, I was back in that 2004 Polaroid. It’s got that classic Cuban “twang” that’s hard to find in non-Cuban sticks.

The Final Third: The Heavy Hitter

By the time I got down to the final few inches, the cigar had fully shed its polite exterior. The strength was definitely leaning toward the medium-full side now. The flavors darkened. The roasted coffee turned into a deep, dark espresso, and the spice became more prominent—more of a black pepper kick on the tongue. But even here, at its most intense, it didn’t get hot or “mushy.” The construction held up all the way to the nub.

The cedar was still there, but it felt more like charred oak now. There was a lingering sweetness, like molasses or dark chocolate, that kept the pepper from being too sharp. It’s a long smoke—I clocked in at about 80 minutes—and by the end, I felt like I’d actually gone somewhere. It’s a rich, satisfying conclusion. I smoked it right down until my fingers were starting to feel the heat, and even then, I didn’t really want to put it down. It’s a “finger burner” for sure.

Pairing Recommendations

You don’t want to pair this with anything that’s going to drown out the nuances. I’d stay away from the heavy, peaty Islay scotches. They’ll just bully the tobacco. Instead, I’d go one of two ways:

• Aged Rum: Something like a Havana Club 7 or an Especial. The natural sugar in the rum plays off the cedar and cream beautifully. It’s a classic pairing for a reason.
• Black Coffee: A clean, pour-over coffee with some citrus notes. It cleanses the palate between puffs and highlights the roasted bean flavors in the second third.
• Sparkling Water: If you really want to taste the tobacco and nothing else, a cold San Pellegrino with a lime wedge is the way to go. It keeps the mouth fresh and lets the Trinidad’s complexity shine.

Value and Usage

Let’s talk turkey. The Trinidad Robusto Extra is not a “Tuesday afternoon while mowing the lawn” kind of smoke. Since the 2024 relaunch and the 55th-anniversary rebranding, these things have been priced in the stratosphere. We’re talking Cohiba territory here. Is it worth the price of a decent steak dinner? That depends on what you value. For me, this is a “special occasion” stick. You pull this out when you’ve had a big win at work, when you’re celebrating a milestone, or when you’re sitting on a secluded beach reflecting on twenty years of life.

It’s for the smoker who appreciates the slower pace of a larger vitola. If you’re in a rush, don’t light this. You need at least an hour and fifteen minutes to do it justice. It’s a luxury item, through and through, from the gold 55th-anniversary band to the prestige of the El Laguito rolling room.

The Verdict

I gotta say, I was worried. Often, when a brand brings back a “legendary” vitola after a long hiatus, it feels like a cash grab. The tobacco isn’t the same, the rollers are different, and the magic is gone. But the Trinidad Robusto Extra managed to dodge that bullet. It feels like a genuine continuation of the legacy. It’s elegant, it’s complex, and it’s got enough strength to keep things interesting without being overwhelming.

It’s a solid, well-constructed cigar that delivers exactly what a Trinidad should: cream, cedar, and a refined complexity that evolves as you smoke it. While the price might make your eyes water, the experience is top-tier. I’m glad it’s back. I might even take a new photo of myself smoking this one, just to see how it looks in another twenty years.

Final Thoughts: If you can find them, and you’ve got the budget, buy a box of 12. They’re smoking great right now, but I have a feeling a few years in the humidor will turn these into something even more special. Solid.