Montecristo S&C Perfumes 1999 Eau de Toilette

It must have been around the early 2000s when I was presented with the Eau de Toilette from Montecristo at my then-favorite perfumery. At that time, the bottle was designed to resemble a bundle of Habanas. I naturally associated the brand with Cuban tobacco products, but I wasn't really surprised by the success of Davidoff and Dunhill. Nevertheless, I paid no further attention to the fragrance - whether because my affinity for cigars was limited or simply because the product did not convince me.

A few years later, in May 2005, I went on vacation to Cuba and learned to appreciate the joy of Cuban cigars, which could be wonderfully enjoyed in Havana in the evenings at pleasant Caribbean outdoor temperatures after a meal with a cocktail. I stocked up on affordable Cohibas, Romeo y Julietas, and Montecristos at a state-run tobacco shop, smoked some at sunset, and took the rest home.

Before my return flight, I then discovered the Eau de Toilette from Montecristo again in the duty-free shop at the airport in Havana. However, this time it was in a completely different bottle, more angular and tapering upwards, like an elongated pyramid with a contrasting wooden cap. Unfortunately, I have no idea if it resembled the scent from back then, but it smelled okay and was, for me, alongside a small box of cigarillos, another fitting souvenir.

I have long since finished the bottle, and the memory of the scent has faded more than significantly, but thanks to a lovely perfumer who generously sent me a small decant, I can revisit those impressions.

Montecristo starts with a spicy-citrusy blend that quickly drifts into a shallow soapy scent thanks to the coriander, and a little later, it achieves an appealing balance between warming and woody-fresh notes through clove and cedarwood. Bright patchouli, together with the sweet tobacco, adds a touch of sensuality to the fragrance in the mid-range, while minimal leather along with a bit of amber makes everything appear a little more masculine.

The journey itself is okay, but overall, Montecristo comes across as a bit dull, as if something were missing or an ingredient was too dominant in the interplay. I suspect coriander, patchouli, or cedarwood here. Alternatively, or additionally, it may be due to a lack of quality.

In the duty-free shop, the fragrance was not an expensive purchase, but by today’s standards, I probably wouldn’t have taken it with me. I just wonder why there is still nothing to spray from Cohiba. And for anyone looking for Romeo y Julieta and finding it: the fragrance has nothing to do with the cigar brand of the same name.