Wrapper: Habano / Ecuador
Binder: Nicaragua
Filler: Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Peru
Size: Corona Gorda (6 × 46)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (final inch)
Body: Medium → Full (last couple of inches)
Price: $8.95–$9.96 per cigar (U.S., varies by retailer)
Factory: TacaNicsa, Estelí, Nicaragua
Blenders: Jon Huber / Luciano Meirelles / Eradio Pichardo
Release: August 2020 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:40
Experience Rating: 99
I’ve smoked a bunch of regular and Maduro Mil Días over the past several months, starting with the Sublime and Double Robusto. But with the regular Mil Días, the Corona Gorda is where I’m landing. It’s simply a magnificent cigar—one that will keep you on your toes throughout the entire experience.
The Drew Estate Undercrown Maduro used to be my steady go-to cigar, but the Mil Días Corona Gorda is quickly taking its place. I’ll always keep a few Undercrown Maduros in my humidor, but this now takes precedence. Along with the Southern Draw Manzanita, it has become one cigar I simply don’t want to be without.
This cigar has been reviewed extensively. In general, they tend to agree on the overall flavor notes. But it was interesting to read the more tepid responses. Some reviewers found little evolution, while others thought the cigar narrowed or lost momentum toward the end. That’s almost the exact opposite of my experience. The flavors were only part of the story. This cigar was in constant motion, and at least for me, its energy never let up.
I think that disconnect may come from the cigar barely wavering in strength, staying in the medium range throughout the experience. If strength is what signals progression, the cigar could seem almost static. For me, though, there was nothing static about the Mil Dias. The energy didn’t come from increasing intensity.
It came from movement.
And the Mil Dias was in constant motion.
Synopsis
Strength begins at medium and rises only slightly throughout the experience, settling into a long plateau before ticking up to medium-plus in the final inch. Body takes a much steeper path, jumping from medium to medium-plus as the cigar settles, then climbing steadily until it reaches full in the last couple of inches and remains there through the nub. Activity starts comparatively low, spikes sharply during the progression, and stays near full for the remainder of the cigar, easing briefly in the last couple of inches before returning to its peak in the final inch and nub.
This cigar wears the updated Mil Días branding, which is a nice touch and a considerable improvement over the rather pedestrian original. The wrapper is smooth, with only a few visible veins and a light oily sheen across its surface.
The wrapper has an indistinct sweetness alongside rich tobacco and a strange rubbery element. It isn’t off-putting, but it does stand out. The foot is more inviting, offering fresh wheat berries, hay, and a fruity sweetness.
The cold draw is a little more resistant than I prefer, though nowhere near plugged. I have a feeling I may need to give it a poke or two later. The rubbery quality from the wrapper carries into the draw, joined by fresh wheat, graham cracker, and oatmeal.
I toast the foot and its aroma is rich with savory and meaty notes. Others reported a sweetness. I’ve never gotten that in the cigars I’ve smoked.
The first puff is woody. I can’t tell if it’s a specific type of wood at this point. But there is a distinctive woodiness to the profile.
Over the next few puffs, dark coffee joins the wood, followed by roasted nuts. A creamy core forms almost immediately, pulling the coffee, nuts, and wood together.
Activity is still low, but it’s a nice, smooth start. Strength is an immediate medium, while body is a luxurious medium-plus.
A light spice enters and immediately settles at the front of my tongue, carrying a touch of white pepper. I’ve smoked the Sublime several times, but the Corona Gorda is considerably more intense. It’s just as smooth, though the narrower ring gauge makes it clear just how much the wrapper is driving the profile.
Nutty aromatics waft from the foot as buttered popcorn enters the profile. A bread-like quality follows the popcorn, while the spice lightly intensifies and remains planted at the front of my tongue.
It’s still a relatively tame start in terms of flavor range, but it’s delicious. More importantly, the smoke seems to grow richer with each puff, while strength and body are at a solid medium.
As I get deeper into the first half, though I rarely mention it, the burn line is perfectly straight. The other three I smoked burned the same way.
Even without a huge flavor palette, there’s an implicit energy in the cigar. It’s constantly moving. Green tea appears alongside the popcorn, followed by rich black Ceylon tea and a touch of jasmine. I lightly retrohale and I’m rewarded with a wave of roasted almonds, cashews, and peanuts. The bread-like quality resolves into something closer to a crème Danish, while an unexpected fruitcake note lands on the finish.
I was a little dubious about the start of this cigar. It was dark and sparse, but as it settled, I could feel that more was in store. Then, about an inch in, the hidden complexity reveals itself all at once. One moment, I’m thinking, okay, this is delicious, but it isn’t very active. The next moment, it’s a completely different cigar as activity suddenly surges.
By halfway, the spice notches up a touch, and the transitions are whizzing by a mile a minute. I can’t keep up with them, so I stop trying and simply go with it. Amazingly, strength has barely moved, holding just above medium, while body continues to grow richer and is now nearing full.
What’s really cool is the way each puff behaves. There’s a blur of activity at the front end, but the finish resolves into something tangible: milk chocolate, dried fruit, graham cracker, buttered toast, roasted nuts, or honey. The finishing flavor then fades, and the core of coffee, wood, and cream reappears.
It reminds me of a magician pulling different objects from his top hat. He distracts you with all the movement, then suddenly produces a rabbit, a bird, or a bouquet of flowers. There’s tremendous complexity here, with transitions occurring within each puff.
It’s actually a little uncanny.
We tend to think of transitions as distinct, separate events. But the Mil Dias is presenting its transitions on a micro scale.
As I hit the home stretch, like the Patisserie Macaron I just reviewed, I don’t want this cigar to end. It has been the same with every Mil Días I’ve smoked, but the Corona Gorda gets there differently than the Sublime. The Sublime is expressive out of the gate. The Corona Gorda takes a little time to find its footing, but once it does, the depth of flavor is astounding.
The transitions are still coming in a whirl as the profile takes a savory turn. Soy sauce, mushroom umami, grilled steak, and Irish lamb stew fly by, not in a progression, but as individual flavors I can pick out amid all the movement.
The richness is practically overwhelming.
And still, strength is holding firm in the medium range. That is what has struck me about this cigar: so much activity with no significant increase in strength.
Then, just when I think the cigar might be calming down, the magician reaches into his hat again. A floral bouquet appears, followed by a finishing note reminiscent of Chanel No. 5—I know, right?—and then crusty sourdough bread. It’s still the same effect: a blur of activity at the front of the puff resolves into a distinct finishing flavor before the core of coffee, cream, and wood returns.
Even the wood refuses to remain still, shifting among oak, hickory, cedar, and teak. It never stays on any one expression long enough to define it, so I simply call it wood.
In the last couple of inches, the cigar finally gives me a little respite as the bready character begins to shine. It’s like walking into a bakery. Shortbread, crème Danish, cheesecake, sourdough, and croissants drift through the profile.
Pretty amazing.
Astonishingly, strength remains unchanged. There has been very little nicotine throughout the experience, and yet the body has become magnificently thick and luxurious, finally reaching full.
The whirling has calmed down, but the cigar is still operating in high-energy mode. Activity has eased only slightly and remains near full.
Holy shit! This thing ain’t done.
I hit the last inch, and grape jelly and red Gatorade suddenly burst from the profile before the cigar circles back to bread and grain. Crème Danish and croissants return, followed by Fruit Loops, yes, Fruit Loops came out of nowhere. I’ve drunk nothing but water, so nothing has tipped my palate in that direction.
The spice finally asserts itself a little more, and strength ticks up only slightly. Otherwise, there’s no late darkening, no compression, and no collapse.
This is simply a high-energy cigar. Even in the last inch, it continues changing, articulating, and throwing surprises at me.
Amazingly, as I reach the nub, the whirling returns. At the very end, no less.
The spice picks up a little, but there’s no corresponding increase in strength. Nor is there any compression, collapse, or increase in density. Nothing blurs together. The cigar remains beautifully articulated through and through.
It’s rare to smoke a cigar that reaches the nub with absolutely no compression. Most cigars eventually tighten, darken, or compress. The Mil Días Corona Gorda does none of that. It remains beautifully articulated and highly active to the very end.
I was a little dubious at the start. The profile was dark and somewhat sparse, but that changed quickly. Once the cigar opened up, it moved constantly, almost using that movement as misdirection before another distinct flavor suddenly appeared. It really was like watching a magician pull one unexpected object after another from his hat.
Looking back, baked goods were the central theme. There was some form of bread or grain in nearly every puff, from wheat, oatmeal, and graham cracker to crème Danish, sourdough, croissants, and Fruit Loops. It never felt like the cigar’s structure; coffee, cream, and wood provided that. The baked goods were more thematic, continually resurfacing in different forms as everything else swirled around them.
This is a magnificent cigar, and easily one of the most exciting I’ve smoked this year.
Buy these at CigarPage. They’re $156.71 for a box of 21 and $41.04 for a fiver. But if you’re a Page+ member, the price goes down to $128.50 for a box and $33.15 for a fiver. As I mentioned previously, that Page+ membership pays for itself quickly.
Leave a comment