Wrapper: Nicaragua – Plasencia-grown Habana 2000 (H2000) Oscuro
Binder: Nicaragua – Plasencia-grown Cuban-seed
Filler: Nicaragua – Plasencia-grown Cuban-seed
Size: 6.5 x 54 Toro (Soft Box-Pressed)
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $21.00 ~ $3.71 at JR (use codes welcome15, welcome15-1)
Date Released: Unspecified (1999-2000)
Factory: Plasencia, Nicaragua

***This is not to be confused with the regular Montecristo 2000, which is an entirely different blend!***

The Montecristo Nicaragua 2000 Limited Edition was a millennium release that should’ve been pure marketing fluff but wasn’t: Altadis had Plasencia build it as a true Nicaraguan puro using dark, oily Cuban seed Estelí tobacco, aged an extra year and obsessively color sorted and draw tested, then released it as a single modern 6×52 Toro before it vanished almost instantly, never reviewed by Aficionado, Halfwheel, or the blogs of the era. It just slipped through the cracks and sat there for two decades, unexamined.

It only resurfaced because Katman noticed JR had slashed the price of a box to $37.06 with discount codes and mentioned, almost in passing, that it was made by Plasencia. That was enough for him to buy a box, and enough for me to follow suit.

I smoked one after a couple of weeks of rest and immediately ordered two more boxes. The second round wasn’t quite as cheap—about four bucks more per box—but that wasn’t going to stop me. What struck me wasn’t the price; it was the realization that this cigar had been hiding in plain sight for twenty plus years, carrying a real identity and a real blender’s fingerprint. And nobody had ever bothered to write about it! It deserved someone to actually see it. So I did. And the fact that I “get it” about this cigar makes me feel good, well, about me.

How it was lost in the market is anyone’s guess. But this is a damn good cigar, and it deserves the justice of a proper review.

Some people might question writing a review of the 2000 LE only a couple of weeks after the box landed on my doorstep. But these cigars had a full year of box aging before they were released back in 1999–2000, and at this point they’re what we’d call “new old stock” in the vintage guitar world: brand new gear made a long time ago, no longer in production, and somehow still untouched. Smoking the 2000 LE feels like smoking a little piece of history.

When this cigar was produced, Plasencia wasn’t the global brand it is today. They were a pure contract manufacturer—the quiet engine behind dozens of other brands’ lines. And they didn’t just roll cigars. They grew the tobacco, fermented it, aged it, blended it, rolled it, color-sorted it, and boxed it. It was a fully vertically integrated operation long before that phrase became marketing copy.

With the 2000 LE, Plasencia did everything except put their own name on the band. They didn’t fully author the blend, but every part of the cigar’s DNA—seed, soil, fermentation, construction—runs straight through their hands.

And this is exactly why I think Katman jumped on the deal. He knows Plasencia’s history. He knows what their contract era cigars were capable of. I jumped on it as more of a knee jerk reaction, but once I dug into the backstory, I was glad I grabbed a couple more boxes. This is a Plasencia cigar through and through. The only things Montecristo about it are the box and the band.

Two things can happen with vintage cigars: they either fade into something thin and ghostlike, or they mellow into something refined and quietly powerful. Most drift toward the first path—structure dissolving, sweetness evaporating, the whole profile collapsing into warm air. But every so often, when the cigar was built well and cared for even better, age doesn’t hollow it out; it clarifies it. The sharp edges round off, the bitterness dissolves, and the strength stays intact, not loud but focused, like the core of the blend has been distilled down to its essence. I don’t know what this cigar tasted like when it was new, but if today’s showing is any indication, it had the bones of something I would’ve loved from the start.

The first thing I noticed after removing the cello was how gorgeous the cigar looked. The wrapper was beautifully executed—smooth, with only the faintest veins, nearly invisible seams, and an inviting, oily sheen—and paired with the minimalistic primary and secondary bands, the whole presentation radiated a quiet, confident elegance as if it had nothing to prove.

I smelled the wrapper and was met with barnyard and an overripe fruit sweetness, accented by caramel and vanilla—classic signals of well fermented Nicaraguan maduro. But the barnyard note puzzled me; it was more pronounced than what I usually encounter. Then I remembered the cigar is likely more than twenty years old, and that extra age could easily account for the more pronounced, almost concentrated barnyard aroma.

I love it when a cigar plants its flag right away and tells me exactly who it is, and the 2000 LE did that within the first couple of puffs. It announced itself as a Nicaraguan puro with no hesitation: black pepper, espresso, hot chocolate, cream, malt, and sourdough bread formed the opening structure. But the real surprise was the spine — a pervasive, balanced fruity sweetness that everything else orbited around. The cigar didn’t build toward its identity; it declared it from the start.

From there, everything begins to intensify, rising to just shy of full strength and body—but without the nicotine spike that usually comes with that kind of escalation. It felt almost as if the cigar were saying, “I’m going to give you a strong treat, but I’m not here to knock you on your ass.” And something interesting happens with the sweetness. At first I thought it had faded, but it hadn’t; it had simply moved. Instead of sitting in the foreground, it slipped to the back of the palate and became the mouth coating finish—still the spine of the profile, still the thing everything else leaned on, but now giving the other flavors room to step forward.

And the way the spine makes room for the other flavors feels intentional. As the cigar progresses, new notes begin to adorn the profile: nougat, cedar, toasted bread, floral sweetness, oak, and a touch of baking spices. They don’t replace the core; they rise around it. These additions give the profile lift and dimension, keeping the intensity from sinking into darkness and preventing the cigar from becoming heavy.

About halfway in, I find myself stopping and again asking myself, How did this fall through the cracks? It’s so beautifully presented — not just cosmetically, but structurally. There’s an uncanny quiet, composed focus to it. Some cigars stop me in my tracks with their complexity. This one, age aside, blows me away with its calm, unassuming composure. It doesn’t try to impress; it simply is, and that confidence is its own kind of power.

Notice that I haven’t mentioned red pepper spice. That’s because it doesn’t show up until well past the halfway point. It first appears as a quiet footnote to the profile, almost an afterthought, but then it begins to gather weight. Eventually it integrates into the spine itself, merging with the fruity sweetness to form a mouth coating, spicy sweet finish that lingers long after each puff. It’s magnificent.

As I near the finish, the word regal comes to mind. There’s something about this cigar that feels like it’s royalty. It sits on its throne, quietly composed, almost contemplative, and projecting an aura of confidence as to say, I’m the king. I have nothing to prove.

In the end, what stays with me is the sense of dignity this cigar carries. The Montecristo Nicaragua 2000 LE isn’t loud, flashy, or trying to resurrect itself from obscurity. It simply reveals what it always was: a beautifully made Plasencia puro that time treated with respect.

It sat in the dark for more than twenty years, waiting for someone to notice, and when it finally gets its moment, it doesn’t shout—it bows. Smoking it feels less like discovering a forgotten relic and more like recognizing a quiet piece of royalty that was never given its due. And giving it that due feels right.

Katman here: Please visit Unco B’s Stogie Diary.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: brendan delumpa, cigar reviews, cigar reviews by the katman, cigars, katman, montecristo cigars, Montecristo Nicaragua 2000 Ltd. Ed. Toro ~ Guest Review by Unco B | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, phil kohn, unco b's stogie diary