On November 30, 1895, Winston Churchill was fired upon by Cuban insurgents as he traveled with the Spanish Army as a military observer. It was his 21st birthday and his first experience under fire.

As a recent graduate of the Sandhurst Military Academy, Churchill’s eagerness for active service drew him to Cuba. But he left with a taste for something else — the Havana cigars he would treasure and continue to enjoy for the rest of his life. At this time he was loyal to two brands in particular: the famous Romeo y Julieta, and a lesser known label called La Aroma de Cuba.

Romeo y Julieta has been in continual production since that time, but at some point La Aroma de Cuba fell by the wayside. In the late 1990’s, Robert Levin of Ashton Cigars read an article in Cigar Aficionado about Churchill’s exploits in Cuba and after doing a little research he discovered the brand name “La Aroma de Cuba” had been abandoned. He registered the name for future use.

In 2002 Ashton introduced La Aroma de Cuba with a Honduran wrapper (grown by Nestor Plasencia), a Honduran binder, and filler from Honduras and Nicaragua. The cigar is manufactured in the small colonial town of Santa Rosa de Copan in Honduras, most probably in the Flor de Copan factory. The artwork on the band and box is based on the original lithography. It certainly has that old timey look about it.

I read a review of this cigar somewhere that compared it the Cuban Bolivar petite corona. A far fetched claim, I thought. I had sampled La Aroma de Cuba a few years ago and wasn’t too impressed, but the review insisted that it was this particular size in the line that was the jewel in La Aroma’s crown. So I thought I’d give it a go.

The wrapper has a rough but robust appearance, slightly toothy with lighter colored veins. The cap is applied well and the roll is solid. The prelight draw is clear and we’re ready for takeoff.

The basic flavor of this little stick is leather and its highlight is spice. It produces a nice volume of medium bodied smoke which has a slightly sweet tinge to it. It’s not sweet like a habano though; it’s more of a sun-grown sweetness than the caramel and bread of a Bolivar. The smoke has a nice smooth texture, and while the finish is spicy it’s not biting. As a point of comparison, I’m thinking Camacho, but a sensitive Camacho, which I realize is an oxymoron. La Aroma de Cuba seems to me a more nuanced but still full bodied Honduran cigar.

This Corona Minor is a fine 20 to 30 minute smoke, but when I want this flavor profile I will probably reach for a Camacho instead. When you want to take a bull by the horns, you want some horns to hang on to.

Hoyo de Monterrey literally means “the hole of Monterrey,” which coincidentally is also the final destination of a good part of my paycheck. Not so literally, “Hoyo” means a valley, which is a nice place to grow tobacco because the plants are well protected from high winds. The valley of Monterrey is located in Cuba’s famed Vuelta Abajo, and this is where Jose Gener first grew the tobacco for his Hoyos in the mid nineteenth century.

In 1931 the Gener family sold their holdings to Fernandez, Palicio y Cia., the makers of Punch. They produced Hoyos for a couple decades and finally, after being hounded out of Cuba by the little green men, sold the Hoyo de Monterrey brand to the Villazon family. Today the Villazon outfit is owned by General Cigar, and the brand is still produced in their Cofradia, Honduras factory overseen by Estelo Padron.

The Dark Sumatra line was introduced in 2002 using an “unusually dark” Ecuadoran wrapper leaf that Estelo Padron found in one of his warehouses. It is certainly the darkest Ecuadoran wrapper I’ve come across — it is at least a maduro in color, if not oscuro. To create a striking and bold blend, Padron utilizes a Connecticut broadleaf binder and a filler combination of Honduran, Nicaraguan, and piloto cubano leaf from the Dominican Republic.

The names of the various sizes in this line all reflect the dark nature of the wrapper — Media Noche, Noche, and Espresso. This is the Ebano, a grand corona measuring 6 x 45.

Beneath the cedar sheath of the Dark Sumatra lies a very dry wrapper that is almost dusty in appearance — the dark hue of the wrapper highlights this effect, resulting in a somewhat rustic appearance.

The Ebano starts up with a hearty flavor of earth and surprised me with a classic Ecuador Sumatran aroma. I was expecting something different due to the unusual treatment of the wrapper leaf, but it turns out to be the aroma typical of ECSU — very autumnal, a scent of burning leaves and hearth smoke.

The smoke itself is fairly big-boned, full bodied but smooth with no initial bite. Overall, this stick is constructed very well: an even burn that leaves a solid dirty gray ash in its wake, and a firm but easy draw that results in nice clouds of smoke.

At the mid-point this cigar picks up some heavier flavors — a charred earthiness that reminds me of maduro without the sweetness. In the final stage it produces a slight burn in the sinuses and back of the throat.

This is a satisfying and straightforward smoke. There isn’t a whole lot of complexity here, but if you enjoy Ecuadoran Sumatra wrapper in a medium to full bodied cigar, the Dark Sumatra is worth a look. Like most premium cigars from General, these are attractively priced at around 3 or 4 USD per stick.

In the early 1900s, two of the leading brands of Havana cigars in the United States were Henry Clay and Villar y Villar, both owned by Gustavo Bock’s Havana Tobacco Company. In the wake of the Spanish American War and the American occupation of Cuba, tobacco trusts were created to establish a foothold in the industry. I always wondered why a Havana cigar would be named after a prominent American statesman like Henry Clay — that’s why, or at least partly why. Gustave Bock, along with establishing several brands which would survive into the next century (if in name only) is also credited with creating the first cigar band. Why is still up for debate.

Rudyard Kipling took note of the brand as well in his poem “The Betrothed.” The line is repeated so often in cigar literature that it’s almost become a cliche, but here it is for the millionth time:

There’s peace in a Larranaga, there’s calm in a Henry Clay

But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away.

Henry Clay came to mind the other day as I was reading Doris Kearns Goodwin’s recent book about Abraham Lincoln: Team of Rivals. Lincoln called Clay “the man for a crisis” because he was primarily responsible for the Missouri Compromise which saved the United States from civil war for forty years. He was one of the great mediators between the North and South; in fact his headstone in Lexington Cemetery reads “I Know no North – No South – No East – No West.” If Kipling found calm in a Henry Clay, Clay himself must have been remarkably even tempered.

And while many other cigar bands bore the names of eminent politicians, Henry Clay survived as a brand up to the revolution in 1959. Evidently Castro didn’t care for the name. (Actually, Castro wanted to “communize” cigars as well as people and have ONE brand only. Che Guevara wouldn’t hear it.)

So today there is no Henry Clay Havana, but there are two others, a Dominican and a Honduran. The Dominican line is easily distinguished because the entire line is maduro only. The Honduran version is made in Danli, but the components are mostly Nicaraguan. The wrapper and binder are both Nicaraguan, and the filler is a blend of Honduran, Nicaraguan, and Peruvian leaf. At one time there was also an H2000 line, but unfortunately they appear to have been discontinued. (Too bad really. They were nice smokes.) The Hondurans are produced for Santa Clara cigars (JR) while the Dominicans are made by Altadis. How they can use the same brand name is somewhat mystifying, but trademark law is not exactly my forte.

“Hermosos No. 4” is a Cuban commercial vitola which is actually a little bit narrower than this Hermoso. The Henry Clay Hermoso is a traditional robusto at 5 inches by a 50 ring gauge. The Cuban vitola is the same length, but a 48 ring gauge.

This cigar has a rough, somewhat dry wrapper. Not the most attractive stick around, but the draw is good and it takes an easy light. The construction on this robusto is quite good all the way around: even burn, solid gray ash, the works.

This is what I’d call a real stogie. It’s a medium bodied easy smokin’ seegar. A nice aroma with a mild spice to it that is very pleasant — nothing fancy, but pleasant. The flavors fall in the earthy category, bordering on metallic at times. I have to say I wasn’t crazy about the flavor, but it’s mild enough not to be overbearing in that regard. The aftertaste follows suit.

The last third of this cigar gets into tarry territory, so it’s not one I’ll ever nub, but the first half to two-thirds was a decent everyday smoke. I doubt I’d ever spring for a box of these guys, but having a few around for in-between times could be a good thing.

Henry Clay was the master of the compromise. While brokering a peace between factions that were destined for a bitter and violent war was no mean feat, I’d have to say this cigar is a compromise of sorts as well. It’s a middle of the road cigar that won’t compromise your budget. At around $2.50 a stick it’s a pretty good deal.

In the late 90’s I was fond of a cigar called Cupido, a rich and earthy Nicaraguan cigar made by Henry “Kiki” Berger. Don Kiki was making cigars for private customers in Esteli when he ran into Yossi Kviatkovsky and Dixi Monaco who had a stockpile of tobacco they wanted to turn into the Cupido brand cigar.

At first it was only available as a churchill, and that’s the size I remember. Looking over my notes from 1997, I said it was a little tight on the draw, but very tasty. I even compared it to a Cuban H. Upmann, which I will attribute to the enthusiasm of my youth.

The Cupido brand expanded and was eventually available in several more sizes, including the “torpito,” a truncated torpedo. A few years later the Cupido Criollo and the Tuxedo versions were also introduced. I liked these, but not as much as the original.

And then around 2002 or 2003 something happened and the brand went under. Sources vary as to whether it was poor business practices or just another victim of the “boom”. I bought several boxes on clearance around that time, and that was the end of my Cupidos. Or so I thought…

Regardless of what happened to the Cupido brand, Kiki Berger stayed in Nicaragua and continued to produce cigars. In 2005 Tabacaleri Esteli resurrected the Cupido under a new name: La Carolina. According to the manufacturer, La Carolina was an old Cuban brand that only “select connoisseurs” were able to obtain in the United States. The same tobacco and the same blend that was used to make the Cupido is now going into La Carolina, so I was eager to meet the reincarnation of what used to be one of my favorite smokes.

La Carolina cigars are Nicaraguan puros, and the Capitan is the line’s torpedo entry. The wrapper is a smooth EMS color with a few prominent veins. The first thing I noticed when I clipped the head and took a quick draw-check is that the wrapper is sweet, like a Baccarat. I usually don’t care for this, because there seems something unnatural about it, but that didn’t stop me from lighting up.

The draw is perfect, by the way, and this cigar exhibited excellent construction in all other ways as well. It burned perfectly from start to finish, and formed a solid near-white ash. Someone once said you could let a Cupido cigar burn for an inch or so, remove the ash with moistened fingers, and then stick the ash back on the cigar. I tried this with the Capitan. It didn’t work, but it’s still a solid ash.

This is a mild to medium cigar with an incredibly sweet floral scent. For the first half of the cigar it’s so smooth that it has no aftertaste at all. But the aroma is worth the price of admission alone. It’s hard to believe this is a Nicaraguan cigar until the half-way point where it picks up a little more body and a woody flavor enters the stage. From this point to the end it gets slightly salty. The real highlight of this cigar is the fantastic perfume. I can’t think of another cigar that smells quite like this — almost like lavender at times.

I don’t remember exactly what the Cupido tasted or smelled like, but I can see how I could, as a new cigar smoker, become quite enamored of a cigar like this. It’s a little too light for me now, as a grizzled fan of El Rico Habano and Padron, but on the right evening, when the air is still and the moon is full, I could still get sentimental about a cigar like this.

La Carolina is a winner. I’ll be looking for more of this great cigar from Cuban Crafters.

The term “Corojo” has been used to describe both a particular type of wrapper leaf and the style of a cigar. In the case of the Cusano Corojo, it’s a little of both.

The original corojo leaf was developed in Cuba on a plantation called Santa Ines del Corojo by agriculturalist Diego Rodriguez. This leaf became famous for its delicate and silky texture as well as its flavor and fine burning qualities. Genuine corojo was Cuba’s premier wrapper leaf for several decades.

But cultivation of corojo in Cuba came to a halt in the mid 90’s because the strain is highly susceptible to blue mold and other diseases. Corojo hybrids were then developed that could withstand the ills that cigar tobacco is heir to. Among the more famous — and infamous — Cuban hybrids are H2000, Corojo 96 and Corojo 97.

The corojo on the Cusano Corojo is a hybrid of some sort, but as owner Michael Chiusano said in Smoke Magazine, “You can make an orange pest-resistant without turning it into something other than an orange.” From this I take it that Chiusano means that his corojo is still Corojo, and bears at least a family resemblance to the original Cuban variety.

Cusano’s corojo is grown naturally tapado under cloud cover in Ecuador. The original crop was harvested in 1996 and the seeds from this harvest were selected and produced the 1997 wrappers the following year. The 1996 Corojo was released with a Connecticut binder, but the 1997s have a spicy Mexican Sumatra binder. The filler is Dominican in both cases. The brand was first released in 2004.

The wrapper on this robusto is a toothy dark colorado maduro. I used a punch on the cap and found the preliminary draw to be very good. The cap itself was not applied with the greatest care, but the rest of the cigar looks to be in good shape.

When I whipped the cello off this stick I thought I detected a whiff of ammonia. Not strong, but present. Lighting up this cigar confirmed my first impression — this cigar is a youngster. The first taste is grassy and slightly bitter, and it remains this way to the end. The aroma is toasty and delicate, but the greenish flavor doesn’t do the wrapper justice.

Additionally, the ash is crumbly and a mottled gray and black in color. Min Ron Nee in his seminal work on Post-Revolution Havana Cigars notes that this phenomenon is caused by incomplete combustion of the leaf. I’m not sure if this is true or not, but it is relatively common with unaged Cuban cigars.

Try this. Torch the black/grey ashes. They become white. The black/grey ashes are due to incomplete combustion. The black particles might be partially burnt organic molecules, because they are too large to be combustible.

He goes on to say that the fermentation process causes the breakdown of these molecules, resulting in complete combustion and a white ash.

Again, I don’t know if MRN’s explanation carries any scientific weight, but it is, as Plato says, “a likely story.” What I do know is that this is the second Cusano cigar I’ve tried that has tasted like this.

Aside from the green issues, this is a very well constructed medium-bodied smoke. Toward the mid-point it turns a bit musky, and the aroma remains pleasantly toasty throughout.

Like the Cusano 18 Double Connecticut I think the Corojo 1997 shows great potential, but it’s not there yet. I’m going to pick up a few and stow them away for a few years to see if my hypothesis is correct. Both the 18 Double CT and the Corojo 1997 are reasonably priced — well worth the investment of time and space in my humidor.