An afternoon in Little Havana, a remarkable life story, and the friendships that begin with a cigar.

By Tony Heywood | ThinkCigar Media

Little Havana, Through Different Eyes

I’ve been to Little Havana three or four times over the years. I’ve walked Calle Ocho, visited cigar shops, enjoyed Cuban coffee, and experienced some of what makes this Miami neighborhood special.

But on Saturday, October 31, I experienced Little Havana differently.

This time, I was spending the afternoon with someone who knew the neighborhood personally. Someone who had built part of his life there.

His name is Mel Gonzalez, founder of Canimao Cigars.

Our meeting began more than a year earlier, hundreds of miles away, at Got Cigars in Decatur, Georgia.

Rukia, the shop’s owner, recommended that I try a Canimao cigar. I enjoyed it enough to reach out to the company through Instagram.

To my surprise, Mel responded personally.

Over the following months, we exchanged messages, followed each other’s posts, and developed a casual connection.

Recently, Mel contacted me while visiting Atlanta and suggested we get together. Unfortunately, I was in North Carolina at the time.

When our schedules didn’t work out, I offered to come to Miami.

And that’s how I found myself in Little Havana, preparing to meet a man I’d come to know through a cigar and a few Instagram conversations.

An Afternoon on Calle Ocho

Mel directed me to Clandestinos Cigars on Calle Ocho, where his wife, Iliana Toledo, has worked for the past three years.

While he found parking, I walked into the shop.

Iliana greeted me warmly, with open arms. She offered me a chair and something to drink, immediately making me feel welcome.

It was a wonderful introduction to the afternoon.

Mel and Iliana have been married for seven years. Throughout our time together, he spoke about her with unmistakable pride and affection.

He told me about her language skills—English, Spanish, and some Russian—and her athletic background.

Language became a small but enjoyable part of our afternoon.

My Spanish is limited, and while Mel and Iliana communicate in English, there were occasional moments when we searched for the right words.

Mel would ask me how to say something in English, then repeat the word in Spanish so I could learn something, too.

I enjoyed those exchanges.

We weren’t always using the right words, but we were communicating just fine.

Later, Iliana set up chairs outside the shop, where Mel and I could sit, smoke cigars, and continue our conversation.

Mel enjoys photography, and Iliana used his camera to capture a photograph of the two of us.

It’s one of my favorite images from the trip.

Leaving Cuba

As the afternoon unfolded, Mel began sharing his personal history.

He was educated as a chemist in Cuba, but his memories of life there were marked by frustration.

He described a society where opportunities were limited and where education, ambition, and hard work didn’t necessarily provide a path toward the future someone hoped to build.

As he spoke, I sensed both frustration and reflection.

Mel wasn’t giving me a political speech. He was explaining what life had felt like to him and why he eventually decided to leave.

That decision involved enormous risk.

He departed Cuba on a raft, risking his life for the possibility of something different.

I’ve never faced a decision remotely comparable to that one.

Listening to him, I thought about the uncertainty involved in leaving the country where you were born, crossing dangerous waters, and arriving somewhere without a network of family or friends waiting to help you get established.

Yet Mel did exactly that.

He came to America looking for an opportunity.

What happened next says a great deal about the man I met.

The Vacuum Cleaner Salesman

Mel’s early years in Miami weren’t easy.

Although he’d trained as a chemist, he found himself working as a busboy and waiter.

In 1994, he took a job selling Electrolux vacuum cleaners door-to-door.

He struggled initially.

Think about that for a moment: a Cuban immigrant, working in a new country, learning to approach strangers and convince them to purchase a vacuum cleaner.

It required communication skills, confidence, and persistence.

Mel told me he began studying Dale Carnegie’s teachings, working to improve his ability to communicate and connect with people.

Gradually, his sales improved.

Then something remarkable happened.

In 1996, Mel became Electrolux’s top salesman in the state of Florida.

After returning home, I contacted him to clarify a few dates. He sent me a photograph of his original Electrolux Certificate of Merit, issued in March 1997, recognizing that 1996 accomplishment.

I looked at that certificate for quite a while.

Here was a man who had left Cuba because he believed his opportunities were limited, who arrived in America and worked jobs far removed from his education, and who eventually distinguished himself in a profession he had initially struggled to master.

Mel worked with Electrolux until 2000.

That same year, according to Mel, he began Canimao Cigars.

Aroma and Flavor

Naturally, we talked about cigars.

Mel knew I preferred Maduro wrappers and made sure I had cigars suited to my taste.

He wanted my honest opinion.

We discussed tobacco, manufacturing, and the challenges of operating a smaller cigar brand in an industry dominated by much larger companies.

But one thing stood out.

Whenever Mel talked about what mattered most in a cigar, he kept returning to the same words.

“Aroma and flavor. Aroma and flavor. Aroma and flavor.”

He repeated them with conviction.

For Mel, those qualities remain central to what he wants Canimao to represent.

His cigars were once manufactured in Miami, and during our afternoon together, he took me to the former factory building in Little Havana.

Another business occupies the building today.

I photographed Mel standing outside, gesturing toward a place that had once been an important part of his work.

Today, Canimao cigars are manufactured in Nicaragua.

Seeing that former factory was another reminder of how different this visit to Little Havana had become.

On previous trips, I might have walked past that building without giving it a second thought.

This time, I was standing beside someone who had a personal history there.

There is a difference between visiting a neighborhood and experiencing it through the life of someone who knows it.

Coffee Comes First

If you spend much time talking with Mel, you’ll quickly discover that cigars aren’t his only passion.

He also loves Cuban coffee.

Mel has developed Canimao Cuban espresso coffee, and while we were together, I accompanied him to pick up a shipment in Little Havana.

When we discussed cigar pairings, he was clear about his preference.

For Mel, coffee is the number-one pairing with a cigar.

Not bourbon. Not rum.

Coffee.

That made perfect sense in the setting where we found ourselves.

Coffee is woven into the rhythm of Little Havana. It’s part of the conversation, the hospitality, and the everyday culture.

Our afternoon also included lunch at La Casita, where we continued talking about life, opportunity, and the experiences that shape us.

I had traveled to Miami with only my phone. I wasn’t carrying recording equipment or trying to conduct a formal interview.

I wanted to meet Mel, spend some time with him, and hear his story.

And as the day progressed, I became increasingly grateful that I’d approached it that way.

There was no need to rush from question to question.

The conversation moved naturally, sometimes toward cigars, sometimes toward Cuba, sometimes toward family, and sometimes toward the lessons life had taught us.

We had time to enjoy it.

The People Behind the Experience

One of the reasons I started ThinkCigar was to explore the world surrounding cigars, not simply the cigars themselves.

I’ve always believed there’s more to this lifestyle than tobacco, wrappers, and tasting notes.

There are people and places. Histories and traditions. Food, coffee, travel, and conversations.

Sometimes, there’s friendship.

My afternoon with Mel brought those things together.

I learned about a man who had studied chemistry in Cuba, risked his life leaving his homeland, worked his way through difficult early years in Miami, and eventually created his own cigar brand.

But I also got to know someone who enjoys photography, takes pride in his wife, loves Cuban coffee, and is happy to exchange a few Spanish lessons while sharing a cigar.

Those details matter to me just as much as the business accomplishments.

Mel clearly loves America and appreciates the opportunities he’s found here.

He also continues to love Cuba.

Listening to him, I didn’t find those feelings contradictory.

The country he left remains part of who he is. The country where he built his new life has given him opportunities he deeply values.

And in Little Havana, surrounded by Cuban culture and familiar traditions, both parts of his story were present.

A Ride Home and Cuban Pastries

Eventually, the afternoon had to end.

My hotel was in Medley, near Hialeah, approximately 35 minutes away.

Mel insisted on driving me back.

After spending so much of his day with me, I certainly didn’t expect him to do that.

Before heading to the hotel, we stopped to pick up Iliana at Versailles Cuban Bakery.

She had brought me Cuban pastries to take back with me.

It was another small act of generosity from two people who had already made me feel incredibly welcome.

As I reflect on that Saturday, I think about Mel’s journey from Cuba, his achievements at Electrolux, and the years he has devoted to Canimao.

But I also think about Iliana’s greeting, our conversations outside Clandestinos, the occasional Spanish lesson, and the pastries she thoughtfully sent along with me.

Those are the moments that stay with you.

More than a year ago, Rukia recommended a Canimao cigar to me in Decatur, Georgia.

I had no idea that simple recommendation would eventually lead to an afternoon in Little Havana with the man who created it.

I went to Miami to learn more about Mel Gonzalez.

I returned home feeling that I’d made a new friend.

And for me, that’s what makes the cigar lifestyle worth writing about.

Sometimes, the cigar is just the beginning.

Learn more about Mel Gonzalez and Canimao Cigars. Explore more stories about the people, places, and experiences surrounding cigar culture at ThinkCigar Media.

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