The Real Lowdown on the Scotte Cigar Humidor Case
January 09, 2026
An in-depth review of the Scotte Cigar Humidor Case that examines its sleek, stylish design contrasted with functional flaws and inadequate security, highlighting its appeal as a gift or travel accessory for casual cigar aficionados.
The Real Lowdown on the Scotte Cigar Humidor Case
Picture this: you’re eyeing the Scotte Cigar Humidor Case, all dressed up in black leather, practically begging for a spot on your bookshelf or tucked (with style) into your travel bag. Visually, it’s got Philadelphia rowhome charm—a little sophisticated, a little casual, and just attention-grabbing enough to say, “Yup, I know how to have a good time on a Saturday.”
But looks only get you through the door. Open it up, and the romance sours fast. The cedar lining inside is so thin, I wouldn’t trust it to keep a shoebox fresh—let alone keep humidity in check for cigars you actually care about. Plus, peek closely and the haphazard glue job gives away more of that plastic underbelly than I’d ever want showing in my living room. If you think real cedar aroma is part of the cigar ritual (and it ought to be), you’ll miss it here.
Function-wise, this case is more about playing pretend than getting the job done. The built-in hygrometer? Let’s just say it’s more decorative than dependable. Getting it to hold a steady humidity is wishful thinking. If you fill the included sponge with distilled water, maybe you’ll get by for a quick overnight or a two-day trip. Forget about long-term storage—your cigars will dry out before the weekend’s over, or else end up soggy if the conditions swing. Either way, not a humidor you stake your prized sticks on.
Don’t expect any clever security features, either. There’s no combination lock, no window, nothing stopping a wayward guest (or one of my stepbrothers back in the day) from sneaking a treat. If keeping your stash safe is important—especially if you share space with teenagers, visitors, or curious spouses—this is not the box for you.
Cap on the frustrations: the advertised capacity is wildly optimistic. You might fit a dozen short robustos if you’re willing to shoehorn them in—just don’t expect to get anything longer than a corona inside without a fight or a cracked wrapper. And who wants smushed cigars after a splurge at the tobacco shop?
In the end, this case really is all hat and no cattle. For a good-looking gift, or a once-in-a-blue-moon travel pouch? Sure, it works—if you’re not precious about your cigars. But if you’re serious about freshness, plan to display your collection, or need to keep sticky fingers away, the Scotte just doesn’t cut it.
Skip the impulse buy and put your money toward a real, cedar-lined desktop humidor with a proper seal—and, honestly, a lock wouldn’t hurt either. The Scotte just doesn’t live up to its dapper looks when it comes to what matters.