Wrapper: Pennsylvania Broadleaf
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6.5 x 50 “Toro”
Body: Medium/Full
Price: $3.00

Normally, I am not a big fan of the La Herencia brand…even if it is made by A.J. Fernandez. It is made to be an inexpensive line of cigars that is in the wallet expectations of smokers on a budget.

The Fernandez tradition starts back in Cuba where A.J.’s grandfather produced the San Lotano brand. In doing my research, specific years were near impossible to track down.
A.J. learned the trade from the cigar giant Alejandro Robaina. And as it is clearly obvious today, Fernandez has taken off and has become a cult figure.

Tabacalera Fernandez began in an old, broken down facility in Estelí, Nicaragua with only six torecedores. A.J. did the smart thing in the beginning of his blending career; he made cigars for other big blenders. Such as the Rocky Patel Summer Blend 2008.

Now, in 2013, A.J.’s factory in Esteli, cranks out 9 million sticks per year.

Now I did some dumpster diving in my humidors as of late and have found some real gems and reviewed them. I found three of the La Herencias and smoked one last night to see if it was review-able. Yassir! And I don’t mean Arafat.

I’m guessing that these cigars are at least two years old based on my financial status of the last few years.

The construction is amazingly good considering it got knocked around a lot. Seams are generally tight and veins are hard to see due to the darkness of the wrapper. The caps are very well done. And the wrapper feels very toothy. The oily sheen is impressive.

I sniff and detect notes of sweetness and cocoa. There is also some caramel or butterscotch aromas. Spice is very prevalent. I clip and try the dry draw and detect cocoa, dried fruit; like raisin. There is also some spice present.

And so it is time to light ‘er up.

The first puffs give me a Garcia-like blast of red pepper. Followed closely by cocoa and raisin. The leather, wood, and cedar arrive in tandem. The spice keeps ramping up.
There is a nutty component that grounds the other flavors a bit.

The cigar is very smooth. Since this is a $3 stick, I’m pretty sure no one intends to age it for two years. So while most smokers probably do their whole supply in the first month, it feels like AJ had a plan and his blend turns out to be a fine thing after all this time.

The burn becomes erratic almost immediately and I am forced to touch it up.

I’m surprised, after all this time, that the cigar has this much kick to it. It hits medium body almost from the beginning. And the spiciness makes it feel like it has a bigger punch.
The first third ends with flavors expanding and the strength increasing.

The second third sees the addition of a coffee component. Closer to espresso since I wasn’t tasting any creaminess so far.

As I approach the halfway point, the flavor profile really opens up. Now I have the creaminess and the cocoa is maxing out. The caramel aroma turns into a flavor with a buttery smooth agenda.

Even the wood and leather find their place in line.

Man, this is turning into a fine, fine cigar. It reminds me of the Man O War Ruination. Which came much later than this stick. So you can see how AJ was thinking at the time. How he planned to take his blends he could call his own.

I’m into the last third and it’s a friggin flavor bomb. Every flavor on the wheel is coming at me except the kitchen sink. The body is now at warp speed full. I think I am hallucinating.

I’m telling you that if you can afford to buy a box of these and just put them away and forget about them, you will be rewarded nicely. Because it ain’t no $3 cigar anymore. It could easily pass for a $9 stick in a blind taste test.

I wish I had more than one stick left. Obviously, while completely broke, I bought a 5 pack of these back in 2010 or 2011.

The espresso turns to a mocha latte. I grabbed my Diet Coke long ago. Each sip accentuates the cocoa and coffee and creaminess.
The cigar ends a little hot. So I can’t really nub it. But this was a delightful 90 minutes.

And now for something different stupid:

I was 22. I collected my unemployment check back when they made you go down there every two weeks. It was in a seedy part of Santa Ana, Ca.

As I walked out, a man approached me and said, “Man, you look cool. You want to buy some hash?”

I replied that I was definitely interested. (You know where this is going.)

He told me I needed to give him a ride in my 1965 VW camper bus over to an apartment not far from there. So he jumped in and off we went.

He said he would need the dough and would go inside and retrieve the dope. I gave him $40 and he disappeared into the projects.
10 minutes later, he came back out and said we had to go to somewhere else to pick it up. I was suspicious…finally.

We got to another massive row of apartments and he went in. Time passed and I started the VW and cruised over to the alley right behind the apartments…just in time to see him jump into someone’s car and roar off.

I gave chase.

I was not going to let this guy keep my $40. So we raced through the residential streets of Santa Ana, going at some points, 70mph. And this guy just couldn’t shake me.
Finally, he pulled over and the guy I was doing business with got out of the passenger side of the car.

I grabbed a heavy road flare and got out to meet him halfway. I screamed I wanted my money back and the guy was trying to calm me down.

What I didn’t see was the driver get out of the car and approaches me. He spun me around and stuck a giant knife’s tip to my throat. I had screamed that I had his license plate number prior to this and that’s what brought Thug #2 out of the car.

I dropped the flare. I could feel blood trickling down the front of my neck while he screamed at me. And I kept saying I don’t want any trouble, keep the money, etc.

Moments later, a cop car pulled up about 20 feet away with two cops in it. They just stopped and stared at us. No one made a move.
Thug #2 put the knife back in his pocket and both thugs got back into their car and drove off.

I stood there huffing and puffing while putting my hand to my neck to see how much blood was there.

The cops continued to just sit and stare. I figured they were just watching scum bags kill themselves and the world would be all the better without us.

I got back into my VW bus and headed home. The cops drove off in the opposite direction.

I got home and called a good friend and fellow musician. And told him the whole story. My adrenaline was racing, my hands were shaking and my heart felt like it would pop out of my chest. My buddy came right over with a “lid” of pot. To help calm me…of course.

And then he put his hand out and said, “That will be $25.”

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS