Cigar Review: Foundation Cigar Company – Senetjer

Introduction

When Nicholas Melillo created Senetjer, he wasn’t simply designing another blend. He was creating a tribute to the ancient rituals of Egypt, a nod to his fascination with archaeology and history. Even the name is steeped in meaning: Senetjer is derived from an ancient Egyptian word meaning incense or “that which makes holy.”

The presentation reflects that reverence. The box is nothing short of a reliquary—black and gold with purple accents, designed to mimic an artifact you might find buried in a pharaoh’s tomb. Inside lies a singular vitola: a 6 ¾ x 52 Salomon, rolled at AJ Fernández’s famed factory in Nicaragua. The Senetjer draws on an international palette—an Ecuadorian Habano wrapper, a Brazilian Mata Fina binder, and fillers kept deliberately undisclosed. The tobaccos are aged three years or more, blended with the intent of honoring tradition while evoking ceremony. Retailing around $30, the Senetjer is released annually in limited numbers as both a smoking experience and a piece of ritual artistry.

Pre-Light Impressions

In the hand, the Senetjer is stunning. The Hershey’s chocolate-brown wrapper gleams with a soft silkiness, almost too perfect to cut. The purple, black, and gold band depicts Egyptian iconography in commanding detail, and the box presentation remains the most beautiful I have ever seen.

The wrapper aroma, faint as it was in the lounge environment, offered muted cedar. The tapered foot carried little more—quiet, reserved, as if the mummy still lay silent in its sarcophagus. The cold draw, however, was alive with raisin and spice, accented by a gentle sweetness and tea-like brightness. Draw resistance was surprisingly accommodating for a Salomon, promising a smoother start than expected.

First Third

Lighting a Salomon is an act of patience. At first, the flame seemed to constrict the draw rather than free it. But as the ember crept up the tapered foot, the cigar gradually opened, producing thick, campfire-like smoke. A touch-up ensured an even light, though the early flavors were tentative: wood, a dusting of spice, but little force.

The ash was odd—circles within circles, flaky and patchy in places, concentrated and strong in others. It mirrored the cigar’s flavor and temperature uncertainty in its opening minutes, like a mummy showing faint, unstable signs of life. Smoke production thinned, and the draw hovered at “just okay.” Yet amid the struggle, moments of brilliance shone through: a burst of cedar here, a ripple of spice there. It was enough to keep faith alive.

Second Third

Then came the transformation. The burn corrected itself, an early squish in the body evened out, and suddenly the Senetjer stood tall. Smoke production became rich, combustion steady, and the draw smooth. The retrohale came to life, with spice beginning to increase and enriching the other flavors on the palate. The mummy had not only risen—it began to waltz.

The profile was elegant and refined: cedar remained ambient, joined by herbal tea and a whisper of citrus zest—spicy orange peel that brightened the palate without overtaking it. A faint leather undertone grounded the flavors, balancing the lift of herbs and citrus with a darker counterpoint.

Another shift. The retrohale, which had carried more spice just a moment earlier, now marched in lockstep with the palate. It continued to elevate the core notes without diverging, adding harmony rather than tension. The overall impression was one of grace: not a cigar demanding attention, but one that rewarded it if you chose to give it. Like classical music in the background, the Senetjer was equally suited to meditation or companionship, present without shouting.

Final Third

The last act brought gravity. The flavors, which had danced lightly in the middle, built brick by brick into something deeper and fortified. Still medium in strength—nudging toward medium-plus—the smoke carried more authority. A bite developed on the tongue, not bitterness but a lingering sting, reminding you of the fire that animates ritual.

Herbal tea and citrus still played their roles, though softened now, woven into cedar and faint leather. Most intriguing was the smoke itself—tasting of smoke in a way cigars rarely do. Not BBQ or char, but incense-like: aromatic, ethereal, as though the act of burning had become its own flavor. It was incense made tangible, the very meaning of Senetjer.

Here, the imagery came into focus: a mummy moving deeper down a passageway, visible but increasingly consumed by darkness. The ritual fortified, the ceremony complete, the cigar closed not with fireworks but with solemnity.

Conclusion

The Foundation Senetjer is not a flavor bomb. It is a journey cigar—refined, contemplative, built on transitions and atmosphere rather than brute force. It asks for patience, and it rewards patience. It is a boxworthy cigar for the right smoker, occasion, and expectation, but not a universal recommendation. If you want a firework show, look to Foundation’s Knight Commander. If you want a meditative procession—a ritual smoke steeped in history—the Senetjer belongs in your humidor.

The Retrohale Score: A (94)

The Senetjer earns its place with artistry, atmosphere, and refinement. It is not a cigar of fireworks but of ritual—a journey built on patience, subtle transitions, and solemn depth. For the right smoker, it can be as memorable as any of Foundation’s crown jewels.