Wrapper: Nicaraguan Habano
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: Toro (6 x 52)
Strength: Medium → Full (nub)
Body: Medium → Full (last couple of inches)
Price: $12.10 single, U.S. pricing
Factory: Las Villas, Estelí, Nicaragua
Blender: Paul Stulac
Release: Privada exclusive
Smoking Time: 1:40
Experience Rating: 97
Smoking my first Paul Stulac cigar, the wonderful Post Script San Andrés, was the first time I fully captured the concept of a blender’s intent. Before that, I understood it implicitly, especially since Katman would often mention it. But that cigar brought it into focus. The idea was to create a great-tasting, highly structured, and affordable cigar. Paul was noted as saying his focus was entirely on achieving the Post Script through the blend.
That was the first rabbit hole I went down in studying the intent behind each cigar I smoke. Frankly, it was also when I started to understand that the smoking experience was so much more than the flavor notes I detected. From there, I went down numerous rabbit holes of research to understand the cigar industry at large.
And that led to my Commentary and Foundations pieces.
With the Miami Style, I feel Paul Stulac has come full circle. His blends have always carried boldness, strength, and a distinctive seriousness. This cigar feels almost playful by comparison. It still bears Paul Stulac’s signature, but it shows a different side of his blending.
And if this cigar marks a change in his approach, I’m looking forward to what comes next.
Synopsis
Strength opens at medium, holds steady through the early sections, then begins a gradual climb in the home stretch. It reaches medium-plus in the last couple of inches, pushes toward full in the last inch, and finishes full at the nub. Body starts just past medium, thickens earlier than strength, reaches full before the final stretch, and stays there through the finish. Activity begins high, dips slightly once the profile organizes, rises again through progression, holds steady across the middle and back half, then drops in the last inch and nub as the profile compresses.
I’m pretty excited about this one. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a new Paul Stulac release, and on paper, it doesn’t read like one of Paul’s usual heavyweight bruisers, but it’s a Nicaraguan puro, so I’m expecting structure and intent.
The cigar is beautifully rolled. Firmly packed with no soft spots, and the wrapper glistens with a light oily sheen. The leaf feels slightly rough under my fingers, and a closer look shows tons of tooth. The band is all Miami Vice. Pink, blue, white, neon attitude. I can practically see Sonny and Rico blasting across Biscayne Bay in a powerboat.
The wrapper aroma is rich with vanilla, dried fruit, sauerkraut, and chocolate. Other than the sauerkraut, I’m reminded of a confectionery shop. The foot is like a fruit stand. It takes me right back to Olsen’s Cherry Stand in Sunnyvale. Strawberry fruit roll-up, Bing cherry, pear, more vanilla, and chocolate. The cold draw is quieter by comparison, giving me hay and cedar.
Strength comes in at medium right out of the gate, and the first puff lands with sweet cedar and Cuban coffee. Toasted almond follows quickly, then resolves into marzipan.
Wow.
The cedar chars slightly while espresso starts pushing for the center of the profile. The body is already just past medium, giving the smoke weight. Dark, burnt brown sugar comes in underneath, and lemon peel cuts across the top.
The cigar settles almost immediately. Flavor-wise, it’s a moderate start, but the way it organizes itself after only a few puffs is amazing. There’s already a clear sense of architecture, and the profile is moving with real intent.
I think this is going to be a future box purchase for me.
I love Paul Stulac’s blends, and this follows his pattern. It isn’t strong yet, but there’s a no-bullshit approach to the smoke. What surprises me is how much structure is already in place this early. I haven’t smoked a Stulac quite like this, where the cigar gets its feet under it this quickly before the first section is even over.
The cigar settles fast.
After the first few puffs, there’s already a definite core forming around espresso, roasted nuts, and cedar. Strength holds at medium, and the body remains just past medium, but the cigar feels more organized now than it did at ignition.
The citrus becomes very pronounced, especially on the retrohale, with notes of lemon peel and sour orange. Then cream enters and floats above the core. A gentle spice arrives the same way, hovering toward the front of my mouth.
A light brown sugar appears in the background and hangs on the finish, and activity pulls back slightly as the profile organizes itself.
With the profile settled, a procession of flavors files in: buttered popcorn, orange zest, green peppercorn, and peanut brittle. Body richens into medium-full, and activity pushes higher again.
A light nicotine begins taking shape, just enough to nudge the strength above medium, and it triggers a visual:
A Cuban expat in a Panama hat, lighting a cigar in a crowded café in Little Havana with a mojito on the table.
I get a hit of mint. Amazing. That mint ties the whole image together. The citrus was already there, but the mint completes the mojito reference. This is an elegant smoke. It reeks of Art Deco Miami style and really does live up to its name.
It’s a chill vibe.
But not California hippie chill. This is the chill of silk shirts and linen pants, dark sunglasses, amidst a room full of people. There’s activity everywhere, but no need to engage. You’re aware, but detached. Chill.
That’s where the maturity of the cigar starts to show itself. Not mature in the sense that only an experienced smoker should smoke it, but mature because it’s composed and refined. It has a clear idea of who it is. The profile doesn’t seem to be chasing anything or aspiring to be something.
Then the floral notes come in like a bouquet: roses, fuchsia, honeysuckle, and jasmine. Bread notes follow, then fresh melon. These flavors brighten the mood.
By halfway, the cigar seems to have spent the first half gathering itself and establishing its profile. Now it’s on cruise. The core is solid, built around espresso, cedar, roasted nuts, and the citrus that keeps flashing across the edges. Strength remains moderate, hovering just above medium, while the body thickens to medium-full.
The flavors move like people in a crowded café. Some are seated at tables. Some pass by. Some linger just long enough to be noticed before the next one takes their place.
Mint and citrus stay on the finish, reinforcing the mojito reference. The finish is long, and the spice doesn’t show itself until the end of it. When I take another puff, the spice steps aside and lets the flavors move freely again.
The body continues to fill in, and the scene starts coming into full relief. The cigar feels centered now. The room, the tables, the street outside, the man in the Panama hat with the mojito in front of him. Everything is there.
The spice steps forward in the home stretch. Coffee and cedar assert themselves, and the profile fills with nuttiness: roasted cashew, peanut, almond, and hazelnut. The sweet character has pulled back, but the nuttiness provides its own lift.
Strength edges higher here as the light spice becomes more pervasive. Body remains full and thick, giving the smoke a rich mouthfeel.
The cigar is still a chill cruise, and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself watching the hustle and bustle around me. There’s real emotional content here. And the elegance I spoke of has a romantic feel. I have a sense of longing to be sitting at a café in Little Havana.
Herbal and vegetal qualities begin to appear: rosemary, sage, thyme, and a bite of fresh celery. It’s a refreshing contrast to the darker tones.
The last couple of inches shift the main theme toward espresso and spice. Other flavors are still present, but they’re now subordinated to the coffee and spice. Strength is clearly medium-plus, and the body is full, thick, and settled into the smoke.
The herbal notes return, then baking spices suddenly appear: nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom, and clove. Orange zest punctuates the finish and adds a little brightness to the profile as the cigar begins to contract.
The scene starts changing. The profile narrows, pushing some of the earlier flavors aside, while the newer ones stay in the foreground. It feels like people are finishing their meals or drinks and leaving the café. The room is quieter, inviting quiet contemplation, but the atmosphere is still alive.
In the last inch, my lips tingle with spice. Espresso turns into ristretto, and the nicotine starts to assert itself. Strength is pushing toward full now, and the body remains thick.
This is where I start to see Paul Stulac’s power come into play. It isn’t overwhelming or aggressive, but it’s unmistakably bold. The cigar let the chill Miami scene unfold through most of the smoke, then reminded me that it’s still a Paul Stulac cigar.
Activity drops as the profile compresses. Coffee, spice, body, and strength take over. I imagine this is where a lot of people would end the smoke.
The nub continues in the same direction as the last inch. Activity stays compressed, body remains full, and strength finally reaches full.
The cigar finishes with espresso, spice, density, and nicotine. The earlier Little Havana movement has quieted down now. The café is still there, but most of the room has emptied out. What’s left is the weight of the smoke and the final reminder that Paul Stulac made this cigar.
What a chill smoke.
For most of the ride, I kept thinking this would be a great walking-around cigar. The strength and body were moderate early, the profile had plenty of movement, and the whole thing carried that relaxed Miami café energy.
By the last couple of inches, you should probably find a place to sit.
This is still Paul Stulac, and eventually the cigar reminds you who made it. The strength keeps climbing, the body fills out completely, and the easy cruise turns into something heavier, thicker, and more contemplative. I’d also make sure to have a meal before lighting one up.
I definitely need a box of these.
The best thing about the Miami Style is that it doesn’t taste like the other Stulac blends I’ve smoked. It has its own profile, its own activity, and its own emotional space. It’s still recognizably Paul Stulac by the end, but the path it takes to get there is unique.
The only place you can find these is Privada Cigar Club. They’re apparently exclusive to Privada, at least for now. Hopefully, they’ll be more widely available in the future.
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