Yesterday afternoon I had the opportunity to cross the bridge into Detroit's southern suburb, Windsor, Ontario, Canada.  As such I was outside of the jurisdiction of that one and only regime in the world where simple possession of certain otherwise legal, natural, handmade tobacco products is a federal crime punishable by hefty fines and imprisonment.  Therefore I was able to freely exercise my right to smoke my choice of cigar, without fear of being fined up to a quarter of a million dollars and imprisoned for up to ten years.

Fortunately for me, the Cuban state cigar firm La Casa del Habano (owned by Corporation Habanos S.A.) operates a franchise in Windsor within sight of the beautiful Detroit skyline, not twenty minutes from my home.  I parked my car right out front (!) and fed the meter with a couple "loonies."

Inside the establishment one finds a helpful and knowledgeable staff, a relaxing, comfortable cigar lounge, and of course, a well-stocked humidor featuring a stunning collection of Cuban cigars. 


Once inside the ultimate, Havanas-only humidor, I made a beeline for the Partagas shelves to see if I could find that one Cuban cigar I've most wanted to try of late: the Partagas Serie D Edición Limitada.  In the last couple years I have read so much about this cigar, and knew that only 500 boxes were produced of the celebrated 2001 edition of the No. 3 vitola (a corona gorda).  I also knew that the only place these were available outside of Germany (which received 300 of those boxes!) was in the various world franchises of La Casa del Habano.

After a brief moment of panic I was overjoyed to find one -- ONE! -- of these very special cigars left.  Digging deep into my pockets I immediately ponied up my reserves of that pinkish Canadian cash (CAD 32.95 -- about USD 26.68) and breathlessly made my way into the cigar lounge with my prize, smiling from ear to ear.

Greeting the gentlemen already in the lounge, I took a seat in a comfortable, leather easy chair, opened my notebook and examined my catch. A beautiful, box-pressed maduro, this 5.5 x 46 stick had a dark, rosy brown wrapper, highly oil-spotted from age.  The classic Cuban corona seemed to have a slightly rough appearance, which surprised me; such a celebrated cigar should look perfect, should it not?  It had a light feel in my hand, and was somewhat squishy.

This stick featured two cigar bands.  I'm certain that the first -- the renowned red Partagas maduro band -- is what CAO is imitating with its own red maduro label.  (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.)  The second is the gold and black Edición Limitada 2001 label that was affixed to all special edition Havanas, regardless of brand, in the year 2001.

I intended to pay close attention to this once-in-a-lifetime, highly-celebrated cigar -- not missing any detail, not matter how slight, of the experience.  I prepared myself to shun any preconceived notions, and to carefully document the experience on its own terms.

The lightup was strong and toasty -- not harsh, but immediately authoritative.  Yes, this was a Havana; a premium one, at that.  The flavor of freshly-lit ligero filled my mouth.

At 5 minutes, the first taste of cedar debuted, making itself known from within that full, powerful ligero profile.  The cigar had an easier-than-average draw.

At 10 minutes, the finish began taking on some complexity and length.  Notes of cedar and leather dominated.

At 15 minutes, this smoke had taken on the most incredible, cedary character.  That this was a first-class cigar, there was no doubt.  The stick was beautifully alluring.

At 20 minutes, my Partagas had become the ultimate cedary cigar.  It was no longer a terribly strong smoke, but rather, it was massively flavorful.  Authoratative but with a subtle, cultured intensity, the incredible flavor profile was nevertheless beginning to be outshown by the unusually long finish.  Dominated by aromatic cedar notes, this finish was so good that I really didn't want to take the next draw on the cigar!  So I removed 1-3/8" of gray-white, mottled ash.

At 25 minutes, I realized that I was smoking quickly, or rather, that the cigar was burning rather fast.  Perhaps this fact, combined with the soft feel and easy draw, might indicate a light fill.  But after smoking a third of this stick I could not doubt that it was absolutely delicious, having developed a luxurious complexity of flavor and a luscious, heavenly finish.  And I was enjoying the comfortable surroundings as well as my conversation with the other cigar lovers in the room.

At 30 minutes, I noted that the cigar had been remarkably consistent.  At this point, nearly half was gone; it was perhaps a bit smoother and less strong than before, but just as full-flavored -- and maybe even more complex.

At 35 minutes, the flavor profile was characterized by a cedar top note, as before.  But cocoa had now become the middle note, while leather was diminishing.

At 40 minutes, I was so absorbed in an enjoyable conversation that I had barely noticed a change; the cedar and cocoa were now accompanied by a tingly, minty feel.

At 45 minutes, I removed another 1-3/8" ash.  The finish was almost indescribably enjoyable.  "Who needs lunch?" I exclaimed to my companion.

At 50 minutes, the nicotine was quite noticeable.  In the flavor profile, cocoa and cedar were now competing for dominance in a tense stand-off.  Less than two inches of cigar remained.

At 55 minutes, less than an inch and a half was left; noting that my prize was still extraordinarily excellent, I was determined to smoke this gift from heaven until my fingers needed to be bandaged.  The nicotine was making me quite dizzy, but I didn't care one whit.

At 1 hour, less an inch remained.  The smoke was still just as wonderful as before.  The pain of several inadventent finger burns was beginning to distract me from my animated conversation.

Alas! at 1 hour and 5 minutes, I reluctantly, sadly, abandoned the little stub of what was once a great cigar -- ritually and respectfully laying its remains to rest.  It was entirely too hot to hold and to draw from.  I literally staggered to the car.

At 1 hour and 15 minutes, back in Motown on the Jeffries Freeway, I was still savoring that lingering, complex finish.  I wondered: could I be tried and convicted for carrying that back across the border?

(Of course, it goes without saying that this cigar is highly recommended.)