Montecristo Limited Edition ‘C’ 2003 - Johnnie Walker Blue Label ‘Ghost and Rare’ Whisky

Well, this was looking a touch awkward. 

For a very long time, I have happily told the world that the greatest waste of tobacco leaf in history are those dire Monte C’s – full moniker, Montecristo Limited Edition ‘C’ 2003. Not because I am not a Limited Edition fan – I most certainly am – but because they are really awful cigars. Then along comes Whipcrack with his ‘smoke your worst cigar’ comp, an idea that ranks with the Skins signing Albert Haynesworth. 

I give him a review, but apparently that will not do. Under the perfidious shadow of retrospective legislation, I have been forced to search the very depths of my humidor in the “hope” of finding a Monte C – which seems a bit like searching one’s nether regions in the “hope” of finding a rash. 

I found one – the cigar, not the rash. 

Now, as Rob will be the first to tell you, I am nothing if not the most open-minded person anyone could hope to meet and always ready to admit my mistakes. So, if this Monte turned out to be a decent cigar, I would be the first to bite the bullet, to eat humble pie, to slink off with my tail between my legs, to eat crow, to roll out endless clichés. Not that I ever want to spend time smoking a dud cigar, but I was kind of hoping that this was not the next Talisman. I am not certain I could have lived with the endless humiliation and childish giggles to which I would most definitely have been subjected.

Oh dear. A disturbing start. 

The construction was immaculate. Very dark maduro wrapper, perhaps the darkest I've seen on a Cuban. Near black. I would not say that it was a small iron bar, but it was certainly firm. The draw cool was also firm but not an issue. It was looking good, or not looking good, depending on your perspective. 

I took great care in lighting it. Did not want any unsubstantiated accusations of damaging the cigar by poor fire etiquette. I will say at the outset that once lit, I was not required to touch it up again, in any way. A big tick for the toxic tobacco toad. Possible humiliation for your correspondent. 

It got worse (or again, better, depending on the perspective). The initial and immediate flavours were terrific. Toast and nuts and quite a bit of chocolate. Lovely stuff. This was going ever so badly. One thought – it was very early but this was a fabulous trio, with delicious LE characters, obvious Montecristo DNA and finally, great flavours. That was just the first half inch.

The second half inch, the flavours a little more muted. Still the same, but just not what they were. Well, that had not taken long. By the end of the first inch, the flavours were there but very much upfront. No length at all. A disappearing act of which Houdini would have been proud. 

It just got worse. The rest of this dismal, waste of time was utterly lacking in any flavour at all. Actually, that is not true. It was slightly acrid, disappointingly tired, unbalanced and offering no redeeming features at all. The smoke seemed to creep everywhere and my eyes were soon stinging. Toss in a very ordinary aftertaste and we are no longer thinking the next Talisman. Talk about all hat, no cowboy. 

But what was the most obvious was that the cigar went from a good draw for that first inch to an utter wind tunnel. No substance, no resistance. I would have got more from smoking an empty straw. I had to puff wildly to simply get anything. Just an absolutely nothing cigar. 

By this stage, I was desperately looking for any positives and I found one. It smoked quickly. So I did not have to endure this smoking hell for long.

Seriously, if someone came up to you and said that they were keen to try a cigar, to learn what all the fuss was about, and you gave them one of these, they would think we were all ‘box of frogs in party hats’ crazy. Why would any sane person put themselves through this? Makes no sense. 

A score? Well, I did not want to be unfair. The construction was excellent. That first half inch was lovely and, as I mentioned, it did smoke reasonably quickly so I did not have to suffer for much as I might. I gave it 50. Generous, sure, but that is just how we roll! 

Monte C – shame, everyone involved, shame.

Now, in my efforts to ensure it got a fair hearing, I thought that I really should pull out something decent. So out came the last of my Johnnie Walker Blue Label ‘Ghost and Rare’ Whisky. Stunning stuff. 

Mind you, at a $480 a bottle, it would want to be good (in case anyone was wondering, it is not me sticking my hand in the pocket for these drinks). But then the LE cigars are not cheap, ie the Monte C, so that does not always work. 

This was the first release in what will be a series of very special whiskies. Each one will be based on a whisky from a long-closed distillery, but include various other components, in this case a total of six malts and two grain whiskies, all of which usually feature in Blue. 

The concept of ‘Ghost and Rare’ comes from the JW Master Blender, Jim Beveridge. Rare represents “rare expressions of malts and grains from existing distilleries”. Five whiskies were sourced from these distilleries, namely Royal Lochnagar, Clynelish, Glenkinchie, Glenlossie and Cameronbridge. Ghost refers to those distilleries no longer operating but where some whiskies have survived and are held in the JW Blue library – Cambus, Pittyvaich and the distillery which has provided the core of this whisky, Brora. 

Beveridge has blended the different components with the aim of creating something special, with an emphasis on smoothness, and he has definitely succeeded in that. 

The heart of the whisky comes from the Highland distillery, Brora, which closed its doors in 1983. The JW team describe Brora as contributing “light peatiness and subtle sweetness”. My notes (I always taste before reading any accompanying tasting notes to try and avoid preconceptions and undue influence) were quite close to those of the team but I did differ in that I could see almost no peatiness in this whisky – the merest hint at best. Pittyvaich is from Speyside and brings nuttiness. Cambus was a grain whisky distillery which closed in 1993. 

The five remaining distilleries are all still operating. Clynelish offers “honeyed, waxy and citrusy” notes and also provides the texture with its hallmark creaminess, which is most certainly apparent; whiskies from the Speyside distillery of Glenlossie are more grassy, as are those from Royal Lochnagar (apparently this distillery plays a key role in Blue); with the final two, Glenkinchie and Cameronbridge, from the Lowlands. 

The whisky is a beautiful bronze/gold colour. Lovely honeycomb and hazelnut notes with a touch of butterscotch and nougat. Quite spicy with plenty of cinnamon. It is aged, complex and wonderfully smooth. The seductive creaminess of the texture is a highlight. Dense but elegant, which is such a fine line. 

The level of alcohol is 46% ABV and this does emerge on the palate, perhaps fractionally more than expected. 

All up, a superb, complex and wonderfully smooth whisky. A great addition to the JW portfolio and a whisky of which I think almost every producer would be proud. 

In the end, as good as this whisky is, it could not hope to save this came-from-the-bottom-of-a-shoe cigar. So I put it aside and finished it later. It did not deserve the ignominy of being paired with that horror. 

KBG