Cigar Review: El Septimo Salvador Dalí – The Sacred Arts Collection

Introduction

El Septimo is not shy about its ambitions. Founded in 2005 and turbocharged after its 2019 acquisition by Zaya Younan’s luxury group, the brand has leaned hard into a lifestyle identity—lounges, high-priced humidors, glossy accessories, and cigars packaged like objets d’art. The Sacred Arts Collection embodies that ethos, with seven vitolas each named for a famous painter and aligned with the days of creation. The Salvador Dalí, at 6½ x 54, corresponds to the fifth day and Dalí’s painting Christ of Saint John of the Cross. Like the rest of the series, the blend is undisclosed, produced in Costa Rica, and positioned firmly in the premium tier, often retailing north of $20 a stick.

I’ll admit I was skeptical going into this cigar. My past experiences with El Septimo had been mixed—some offerings felt merely average, which isn’t enough for a brand draped in luxury, while others fell short entirely. I’ve also read critical reviews, and I share the sense that El Septimo carries itself with an elite façade, emphasizing presentation and prestige while keeping consumers at arm’s length from the passion and heritage that define the cigar world. Most of the industry’s great names are family-run houses with humble beginnings, reputations forged through decades of craft. El Septimo, by contrast, has always struck me as a luxury brand first and a tobacco story second. Still, I wanted to give the Salvador Dalí a fair shot. So I set my bias aside, resolved to approach this cigar with fresh eyes, hoping to discover whether it could rise above the image and deliver something genuine.

If you only judged by appearances, the Salvador Dalí would feel like money well spent. It is, without exaggeration, one of the most beautiful cigars I’ve ever seen. The wrapper is dark, uniform, and silky smooth, with just enough vein structure to remind you it’s a natural product. The banding is regal—royal purples and deep blacks laid over gold foil—an unmistakable statement of luxury. From a glance alone, it looks like the sort of cigar meant to be admired in the hand as much as smoked.

Pre-Light Impressions

The pre-light inspection only added to that intrigue. Off the wrapper came a clean barnyard note, fresh hay folded into earth. The foot was striking: an unmistakable cherry cordial aroma, the kind of deep fruit sweetness that surprises you in tobacco. A clean cut revealed a firm draw—not tight, but deliberate—alongside flavors of darker hay, a syrupy cherry character, and even a curious tingle on the tongue reminiscent of peppermint heat, though without any mint flavor itself. Already, it felt like a cigar with the potential to win me over in spite of my skepticism toward the brand’s glossy image.

First Third

Lighting up with care, the cigar opened modestly but bloomed quickly. Within a half-dozen puffs it went from mild and somewhat hesitant to medium-plus, the flavors snapping into place with impressive clarity. The cherry cordial carried through, transforming into something closer to spiced cherry cola—Mr. Pibb in cigar form. The retrohale added a white-hot pepper bite that amplified both cherry and spice, giving the profile a lively, engaging rhythm. The room note was equally enchanting, full of sweet cherry and spice, the sort of aroma that might even win approval from someone not usually fond of cigar smoke.

An inch in, the Salvador Dalí truly impressed. The sweetness leaned maraschino, reminding me of the jars of cherries we kept in the fridge when I was a kid, spooned over ice cream. The aftertaste carried that same syrupy fruit, layered with cedar and leather, while a dusting of cocoa powder and hints of dried prune provided darker ballast. Pepper on the retro was sharp, bordering on white pepper heat, but balanced enough to keep things exciting rather than overwhelming. The burn line was clean, the ash stacked tight in shades of grey. At this stage, I was prepared to admit I had misjudged El Septimo—perhaps behind the gilded marketing there was real tobacco artistry after all.

Second Third

But then came the second third. And with it, the unraveling.

At first the transition seemed promising—the cigar grew bolder, leather and cedar taking center stage while the cherry and spice lingered in the aftertaste. But the burn began to drift, smoke output grew thin, and with it the flavors lost their depth. What had been layered and lingering became fleeting flashes across the tongue. The temptation was to puff harder to keep it alive, but more aggressive smoking only produced hot, bitter smoke. A first burn correction temporarily revived it, bringing back fuller flavors, but the improvement was short-lived. Soon enough, bitterness crept back in, and the engine of the cigar began to sputter.

By the time I passed the midpoint, I was fighting the cigar more than enjoying it. Another correction. Then a full relight. The wrapper began to loosen, the burn line tore diagonally, and smoke production alternated between thin and acrid. The flavors followed suit: charred wood, burnt leather, and a bitter edge that overwhelmed any memory of cherries and cocoa. Spice vanished from the retrohale, leaving little but hot air. It left me pondering the “why.” Was this poor rolling? A flawed blend? An issue of age? Whatever the cause, the result was the same: a cigar that dazzled in its opening act but collapsed into bitterness and construction failures by its second third.

Final Third

The Salvador Dalí refused to stabilize. The burn raced unevenly, and what smoke emerged was thin, hot, and harsh. The flavors never recovered, limping between bitterness and charred notes without coherence. What had once been a lively, cherry-spiced perfume devolved into acrid air, leaving me nursing a cigar that was more frustration than pleasure.

It was a stark fall from grace. The first third had shown genuine brilliance, but the rest of the cigar collapsed into a muddle of flaws. The experience became less about enjoying transitions and more about managing corrections—an endless cycle of touch-ups, bitterness, and disappointment.

Conclusion

The Salvador Dalí began as one of the most promising cigars I’ve smoked in recent memory—stunning appearance, captivating pre-light aromas, a delightful cherry-cola sweetness and white pepper retro that felt both luxurious and engaging. For those opening moments, I was ready to admit I’d misjudged El Septimo.

But the collapse that followed left me feeling vindicated in my skepticism. The second and final thirds exposed systemic flaws: uneven combustion, thin smoke, unraveling wrapper, vanishing complexity, and bitter, acrid flavors that no amount of patience could redeem.

Perhaps this cigar succeeds in a narrower sense. It is perfect for the smoker who wants to impress with appearance and aroma, who lights up in company and enjoys the beautiful first ten minutes before discarding it without regret. It’s a statement piece, a gallery showpiece, and in that role it works. But for those who expect a $20+ cigar to sustain artistry throughout the experience, the Salvador Dalí is more illusion than reality.

El Septimo set out to marry art and tobacco in the Sacred Arts Collection. With the Salvador Dalí, they achieved the gallery effect—gorgeous, impressive, a true statement piece. But as a cigar, as an actual smoking experience, it proved fragile, inconsistent, and ultimately disappointing. Luxury should not only look the part, it should perform the part. Here, only the mask held. Behind it, the substance faltered.

The Retrohale Score: C (80)

A cigar that dazzled with one of the most beautiful presentations and most promising openings I’ve experienced, but faltered badly thereafter. The Salvador Dalí showed glimpses of artistry, but ultimately collapsed under its own weight. For its price point, the performance is unacceptable. Even for a budget cigar, the second and final thirds would disappoint.