Dunbarton Tobacco & Trust Sin Compromiso Seleccion No 5 – Bury the Leaf
Some cigars are built to work anywhere. Morning coffee, afternoon lounge session, after dinner, sitting in the garage hiding from whatever chore you promised somebody you were going to finish three hours ago—they just fit.
The Dunbarton Tobacco & Trust Sin Compromiso Selección No. 5 isn’t that cigar.
This one wants a setting.
It wants the temperature dropping after dark. It wants a fire pit throwing sparks into the yard, something on the grill, a couple buddies sitting around solving problems nobody asked us to solve, and absolutely nowhere anybody needs to be for the next hour.
That distinction matters because Sin Compromiso No. 5 did plenty right. Construction was damn near impeccable. The flavor profile moved constantly. There were moments when something showed up for two puffs, disappeared, and left me wondering whether I’d actually tasted it or imagined the whole thing.
But when the cigar was finished, I wasn’t thinking about buying a box.
I was thinking about when I’d want to smoke the next one.
Those aren’t quite the same thing.
By the Numbers
- Vitola: Selección No. 5 — 6 x 54 Soft Prensado
- Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés Negro “Cultivo Tonto”
- Filler/Binder: Nicaraguan filler / Ecuador Habano binder
- Cut: V-cut
- Procured from: CigarPage
- Price Paid: $14.25
- Estimated MSRP: $17.45
- Duration: 1 hour, 18 minutes
- Band Rating: 3 Bands — Worth the Smoke
Construction & First Impressions
The first thing Sin Compromiso does is make itself look expensive.
A cedar sleeve covers most of the cigar, carrying the Sin Compromiso branding without turning the presentation into a billboard. Underneath is a dark Mexican San Andrés wrapper around a softly pressed body—not square enough to feel like a traditional hard box press, but certainly not round either. The corners are softened and the cigar sits naturally in the hand.
The wrapper aroma was immediately different. There was something there I couldn’t quite put a name on, accompanied by enough sweetness to suggest the cigar might head somewhere interesting once lit.
A V-cut opened the cap cleanly and produced a deep channel with no drama. The cold draw reinforced that first impression: there was sweetness underneath everything else, but nothing obvious enough to slap a convenient tasting-note label on it.
Then came the fire.
Almost immediately, the room aroma started reminding me of a campfire or barbecue pit. That wasn’t just background noise because the first draws followed it in the same direction.
Black pepper arrived first. Behind it came wood—specifically something closer to hickory than generic cedar—followed by an earthy, almost meaty character and leather.
It was an odd combination.
It was also damn good.
Mexican Coke was along for the ride, and it proved to be exactly the right call. The bright cane-sugar sweetness played against the earthy, smoky character of the cigar instead of covering it up. This wasn’t pairing for pairing’s sake; the two actually made each other more interesting.
First Third
The opening third was where Sin Compromiso made its strongest argument.
Black pepper stayed prominent without becoming abusive. Hickory-like wood remained underneath it, along with earth, leather and that peculiar savory meatiness. Then bitter coffee and a faint nuttiness started working their way into the picture.
“Bitter” can sound like an insult in a cigar review.
It wasn’t here.
This was the bitterness of dark coffee rather than scorched tobacco, and the smoke remained remarkably smooth underneath it. The draw was free-flowing, smoke production was plentiful and the burn line settled into something you could damn near measure with a level.
Half an inch in, the ash was stacking beautifully and finding a wrapper seam required better eyes and lighting than I possessed.
As the first third developed, the pepper began backing away from the palate. It didn’t disappear completely. Hold the smoke for a moment and send it through a retrohale and the pepper came right back, lingering at the back of the throat.
Then it changed.
What began as black pepper shifted toward something closer to red pepper—sharper, spicier and more persistent without necessarily becoming stronger.
Meanwhile, the wood dried out.
The best comparison I could find was seasoned hickory: dry, woody and slightly smoky, exactly the sort of aroma that makes you think somebody ought to be cooking meat nearby.
That was when the personality of the cigar started becoming obvious. Sin Compromiso wasn’t just giving me flavors. It was building a setting around itself.
For roughly the first third, that setting was right in my wheelhouse.
Second Third
Crossing into the middle third brought considerably more earth.
The pepper that had dominated portions of the opening largely disappeared from the palate, although Sin Compromiso apparently enjoyed proving me wrong because just about the time I declared it gone, another flash of red pepper would show up.
Seasoned wood became the foundation.
Leather stayed alongside it. The profile was drier now, and the Mexican Coke became even more useful because its sweetness cut directly across that dryness.
Then the coffee changed.
What had started as bitter coffee moved toward something distinctly reminiscent of chicory. Being from Louisiana, that’s not exactly an abstract reference. Think about the roasted, earthy bitterness that comes through in a cup of chicory coffee and you’re in the neighborhood.
For a cigar that had already moved through black pepper, hickory, earth, meatiness, leather, coffee and red pepper, that would have been enough.
Apparently Sin Compromiso hadn’t finished rummaging through the pantry.
For a moment, I got something strangely similar to a Lay’s potato chip—a salty, savory little flash that appeared almost as quickly as it disappeared.
And that became the story of the middle third.
The flavors lived in roughly the same dry, earthy family, but individual notes kept bouncing in and out. Just when I thought I’d figured out what the cigar was doing, something else would poke its head through the door.
Construction remained excellent throughout all of this. Smoke volume stayed high. The burn behaved itself. The draw never gave me a reason to think about it.
The only developing concern was a touch of bitterness. It never crossed into offensive territory, but the profile began getting more charred around the edges. Bitter wood joined the chicory character, riding particularly along the sides of the tongue.
Whether that was the cigar warming up or simply the blend progressing, I couldn’t say.
What I could say was that Sin Compromiso had become considerably drier and darker than where it started.
Final Third
The final third didn’t suddenly transform into another cigar.
Instead, it continued doing what Sin Compromiso had done all evening: throwing little surprises into an established flavor profile.
One of the strangest was a gingerbread-like sweetness.
It cut straight through everything else, hung around just long enough for me to notice it, and then vanished.
That was Sin Compromiso in miniature.
The seasoned wood remained. Chicory and charred bitterness remained. Earth continued underneath. There was still enough complexity to keep paying attention, but the cigar never became the powerhouse I might have expected from Dunbarton based on some of my other experiences with the catalog.
That’s an important distinction.
This wasn’t a Mi Querida Triqui Traca. It wasn’t trying to dominate the palate or beat its chest. Sin Compromiso No. 5 had more interesting and unusual flavors than it had big, memorable ones.
And the farther I smoked, the more convinced I became that the cigar’s greatest strength wasn’t any individual tasting note.
It was atmosphere.
This thing made me want to be outside.
Cool weather. Fire going. Barbecue pit nearby. Friends sitting around. Somebody else can pour the brown spirits if that’s their thing; I’ll keep the Mexican Coke.
That’s where I want another Sin Compromiso No. 5.
Another random lounge session?
Probably not.
And that doesn’t make it a bad cigar. Quite the opposite. It just makes it specialized.
There was one final bit of personality from the construction: the ash apparently developed a personal grudge against the ashtray.
It dropped itself three times.
Two landed in my lap.
One hit the floor.
Not once did the cigar bother putting the damn ash where it belonged.
Excellent construction, terrible aim.
Millennium of Aftermath
Sin Compromiso translates to “without compromise,” and there’s certainly nothing half-assed about the Selección No. 5.
The cigar was beautifully constructed. The draw remained effortless. The burn required essentially no attention. Its progression from black pepper, hickory, earth and leather into seasoned wood, red pepper, chicory, char and those strange little flashes of salty savoriness and gingerbread gave me plenty to think about for 78 minutes.
But this is also where the Band system earns its keep.
At 3 Bands — Worth the Smoke, I’m saying exactly what I mean: I’d smoke this cigar again.
I just know when I’d smoke it.
This isn’t the cigar I’m chasing down to keep a stack of five-packs around for any random Tuesday night. It’s the one I’d deliberately pull out when the weather turns cool, the fire pit gets lit and the evening calls for something earthy, woody, smoky and just unusual enough to keep the conversation going.
Sometimes the best compliment you can give a cigar isn’t that it belongs everywhere.
It’s that you’ve already figured out exactly where it belongs.
For the Sin Compromiso Selección No. 5, that’s outside by the fire.
And preferably with a bigger ashtray.
-
Built for the Fire Pit
Dunbarton Tobacco & Trust Sin Compromiso Seleccion No 5 – Bury the Leaf Some cigars…
-
The Funny-Shaped Cigar I Almost Walked Past
LFD Oro Chisel – Bury the Leaf There are cigars you buy because you know…
-
Small Cigar, Big Sting
Black Works Studio Killer Bee – Bury the Leaf There is something inherently funny about…
Stuff with the Sticks
Everything that was within arm’s reach of the chair for this one.
Heads up: some of these are affiliate links. If you buy through them, The Evening Draw may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. It never buys a score. I only list stuff I actually use.
The Evening Draw Letter
Liked this review? Get the next one first.
Honest cigar reviews, Band Rating verdicts, and retailer deals worth your money. Every cigar bought with our own money. No paid praise.
- Your pace. Get every review as it drops, or just the highlights a few times a month. Your call.
- Never spam. No daily blasts, no countdown hype, no paid praise.
- Your email stays here. Never sold, traded, or shared.
- Easy out. One click to unsubscribe, no hard feelings.
21+ only. I’d rather send nothing than send filler.
You’re in. Check your inbox and confirm your spot in the lounge.
Leave a Reply