Somewhere Between Havana and Louisville

It began on a damp Kentucky morning. The kind that smells of oak, rain, and something distant—something earned. In the warehouses of W.L. Weller, a master distiller once whispered to a cigar man from Havana, “What if the barrels could dream again?”

And they did.

Months later, those same bourbon barrels found new purpose, now cradling dark, oily leaves of tobacco instead of spirit. The aroma that rose from them was a paradox of earth and fire, sweetness and char. It was the scent of two worlds meeting—one rolling in molasses and oak, the other in sun-baked soil and volcanic stone.

From that improbable union came The Weller by Cohiba.

This cigar does not simply burn—it unfolds.

The first draw greets you with pepper and roasted coffee, assertive yet polite, like a well-dressed southern gentleman with a dangerous glint in his eye. As it warms, the flavor deepens into leather, vanilla, toasted oak, and the faintest echo of Weller bourbon whispering through the binder. Somewhere near the final third, the sweetness subsides, replaced by an elegant dryness that lingers longer than goodbye.

It’s not for the impatient. It’s not for those who smoke distractedly while answering emails. This cigar demands conversation, contemplation, perhaps even a confession.

At The Cigar Box Bar & Lounge, we’ve managed to acquire a limited cache of these barrel-born marvels—each one a ticket to that place between Kentucky and Cuba, between bourbon and tobacco, between discipline and indulgence.

You could pair it, of course, with a pour of Weller 12-Year, the natural companion. But if you wish to experiment (and you do), try our signature Amber Ember cocktail—a smoky bourbon creation that mirrors the cigar’s slow crescendo of oak and spice. Together, they transform a simple evening into something nearer myth.

Picture yourself here:

Low light spilling over brass and mahogany. The gentle hiss of a match. The rich curl of blue smoke rising above your glass. Outside, Indiana carries on with its hurried purpose. Inside, time slows to a civilized crawl.

You might discuss philosophy. Or baseball. Or say nothing at all. The cigar will carry the conversation for you.

In the end, you don’t so much finish the Weller by Cohiba as you graduate from it—sitting back, knowing you’ve participated in a kind of ritual lost to modern haste.

And perhaps that’s what makes this cigar worth seeking: not just its taste, but its defiance. It is, after all, a relic of patience, fire, and perfect proportion.

So come find your seat at The Cigar Box.

Light up a Weller.

Pour something worthy.

And for an hour or two, remember that refinement and adventure are not opposites—they are old friends.