Murcielago by Espinosa Y Ortega | Cigar Review

Wrapper: Mexican San Andres
Binder: Mexican
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6.12 x 50 “Box Pressed”
Body: Medium/Full
Price: $3.50-$4.00 at Atlantic Cigar Co.
1a

2a

3a

Murcielago is Spanish for “bat.”

Back in 2009 or 2010, I reviewed this cigar for someone. I can’t remember who that was, dang me. But I can tell you what I had for breakfast this morning.

The original Murcielago disappeared for years until Erik Espinosa was nosing around the factory and found all the original blends. All blended with his favorite cohorts, Eddie Ortega and Don Pepin Garcia. I certainly don’t remember the Murcielago I reviewed, many moons ago, tasting like this. But then they weren’t aged for years as these are.

Atlantic Cigar claims to have bought the entire stock from EO Brands. Although, I see them in a lot of online stores, so I don’t get it. I can only assume that these Atlantic cigars are the original aged blend and the rest being sold online are the cigars that were not blended under the aegis of Ortega, Espinosa and Garcia. I shall then conclude that only Atlantic has the only good stuff. And if Murcielago is still being sold under the EO Brand, they are Rocky Patel cigars. As he bought out EO a couple years ago.
From Atlantic’s web site:
“We thought the Murcielago cigar was gone forever, but it turns out we’re getting an early present this holiday! While Erik Espinosa was digging around in some old cigar stocks, he discovered a load of the original Murcielago’s. These cigars have been waiting patiently at the factory, and we agreed to take the lot of them!”

“These are the original Murcielagos, created by Erik Espinosa and Eddie Ortega with the distinct San Andrés Maduro wrapper and hand rolled under the supervision of Don “Pepín” Garcia with a Mexican binder and Nicaraguan fillers. Many different sizes were produced that were never sold to the public, which are now available here at Atlantic Cigar! Some are even round as opposed to the regular released, which were all box-pressed. If you like dark and rich cigars full of coffee, spice, caramel and beautiful San Andrés maduro flavors, then don’t miss your chance to buy the original EO Murcielago.

“We don’t have to tell you how rare these cigars have become, considering they are no longer made. We’re also giving you some killer prices that you’re not going to find anywhere else!! Available only while supplies last, which won’t be long!”

Atlantic has all 7 sizes in both 20 count boxes and bundles with prices ranging from $64-$79. They seem to have the best prices around. And I want to thank Garland Centrella, the big kahuna at Atlantic for the samples.

I noticed that all of the singles, in every size, are now backordered. Everything else is still available. One thing I like about Atlantic is that right next to the price, they tell you how many units are left for sale. No one else does this. Smart. And daunting at the same time. Great PR move to push the seller over the precipice.

The sticks come in both round and box pressed varieties. I think there is an error on their site as they duplicate some of the sizes without a correct pronouncement that one is round and one is box pressed. I don’t know. Must ask Garland.

The box press looks like a chocolate bar. Absolutely gorgeous. Riddled with veins. A beautiful triple cap. Seams are slightly visible but no harm, no foul. The dark maduro wrapper is as oily as an Exxon oil spill. And it feels very toothy. (Pray for sun but weather predictions for Milwaukee are 100% overcast. But the temp is in the mid 20 degree range which now feels like Summer. A wonderful change over those horrid frigid temps.

I’ve always loved the cigar band. A black bat against a red background with the words Espinosa Y Ortega above it. On the back, it says Capa Negra. He played right field for the St. Louis Cardinals in 1947.
I clip the cap and find aromas of very minty cocoa, spice, cream, coffee, cedar, and leather. Good start.
Time to light up.

The first puffs taste of cocoa, nuts, and leather. Nice start. Also a bit of creaminess and sweetness. The draw is superb as smoke gets in your eyes. Sorry. The char line starts off needing a slight correction. Hopefully, this nips things in the bud. (And it does)
4a

Constant touch ups of any cigar can totally ruin the experience as each time you relight the cigar, it chars the tobacco at the foot, causing a chain reaction that will change the course of your cigar’s flavor profile. And not for the better.

But then, one or two corrections; if they are minor, are just super-duper if it keeps the burn line in check.

The cigar is so EO and Garcia. And what a deal. My birthday is coming up in early Feb and I plan to go wild instead of paying bills and my chorus line of meds. I want a couple bundles of these. If given the choice, I always prefer the bundle over the box. I have a garage full of boxes. Don’t need anymore. Yeah, yeah…I know that if the cigars are in boxes they reap the benefits of being enclosed in a cedar environment. You just have to choose on a one by one situation.

The cigar burns slow and the flavors are bold and delicious. Of course, I grabbed my Diet Coke. The cocoa and creaminess are at the appropriate levels…and the cigar is only at the 1” mark.
4aa

I don’t expect any surprises from this stick based on the leaf stats. But the point is that you are getting a cigar from three of the most important blenders in the universe, and beyond. Yes, they smoke cigars on Uranus. That one was for you Yohannian.
5a

The only change is that the cigar becomes very sweet. I read one review and it said he tasted marshmallow. I’ve not had even ingested a teaspoon of concentrated sugar since 1981. I can’t remember what marshmallow tastes like. Or a doughnut, for that matter. NO sugar for over 30 years and I still was diagnosed with diabetes 5 years ago. I currently weigh a metric ton so it may have been the cause.

As I near the end of the first third, here are the flavors in descending order: Sweetness, cocoa, creaminess, nuts, coffee, cedar, and leather. I am very close to giving this cigar flavor bomb status.

The second third becomes complex. A whole galaxy of flavors morph into one. Taking turns at the top of the pile with each puff. There is some wonderful earthiness throughout the cigar that pulls everything together and giving it a nice balance. The cigar now has a very long finish.
6a

As I wrote that, the cocoa becomes much stronger and tries to usurp the sweetness at the head of the line. I take a swig of Coke and that childhood memory of egg cream, or chocolate sodas, comes rushing back. The ingredients are simple. Seltzer water, chocolate syrup and milk. Bingo. My dad kept a case of Three Stooges seltzer bottles in the garage with those attachments that would allow you to spritz your son when he wasn’t looking.

Mexican San Andres and Nicaraguan leaves have become a staple for producing excellent cigar blends.
I near the halfway point and the cigar officially a flavor bomb. The finish is extraordinarily long. The sweetness, cocoa and creaminess are driving the bus in splendid style. Coffee enters the arena making this a true confectionary.

The last third begins with no subtle or bold changes. Although, the coffee gets stronger in the lineup.
While I don’ taste marshmallow, I do taste treacle. A lovely English caramel dessert.
8a

The wrapper comes off with ease. Throughout the cigar, there has only been a very tiny amount of spice; hence I didn’t mention it in my lists. But now, the black pepper is much more out front. Subtle, but at least it adds a subtle nuance to the flavor profile.

The cigar started out at classic medium. By the first half, it moved to medium/full. And now, it is becoming even stronger; with just a couple inches to go. The start of a nicotine kick begins here; albeit a mild kick.

This has been an extremely satisfying stick. Flavorful, full of character and nuance. A rotating circle of flavors, and a well-balanced cigar. I am grateful for Erik Espinosa’s curiosity when seeking out cigars in his factory. It benefits us all.

The cigar finishes creamy and smooth. The nicotine kick is now making me dizzy. And by the way, because of the duration that these sticks spent in hiding, they are good to go ROTT. So enjoy.
9a

And now for something completely different:
Continuation of the “Teri Chronicles” from the EP Carrillo Cardinal review.
1968-1970
In high school, and college, my buddies, and everyone in their teens, all hung out at Bob’s Big Boy in Long Beach, CA. After a Millikan H.S. football game, the whole student body showed up. It was as much fun waiting for a table as it was sitting at one. It was raucous and chaotic. Must have driven the employees nuts. But we were all good tippers and I’m sure the waitresses appreciated that.

Back then, a Big Boy combo was $1.50. That’s right. Burger, fries and salad for $1.50. My buddies and I drove the waitresses crazy. We would order as little as possible and hang there all night. No. We didn’t have girlfriends. But we flirted with the waitresses and they flirted back. One of the guys actually got to take a waitress out: Teri. I was so jealous, that I couldn’t stand it. It didn’t last long.

One of our favorite foods was ordering a big order of fries and a side of bleu cheese dressing. It was great dunking…much better than ketchup.

When Bob’s relationship with Teri was over, and he was cursing her at the restaurant, I asked if there was any way they would be getting back together. He yelled, “NO.” Clearly, she dumped him.

So I told him that I asked her out and she said yes. Bob Moreash turned beet red and stormed out of the place. He never spoke to me again. I didn’t care. I won the affections of my dream girl.

We went out to movies and other silly things. And whenever we held hands, I was in second heaven. Ahhh…young love.

I mentioned, in a previous review, how much she looked like Goldie Hawn. Bizarre. Getting stopped on the street when we went into L.A. was crazy time. She finally gave in and signed autographs.

I courted her for 9 months and then asked her to marry me when I was 21. I was still in school. My dad flipped out.

Now my dad was a real hypocrite because he watched my mother die a slow death in the hospital from Crohn’s Disease while getting some nookie, on the side, almost every night. And less than a year later, after my mother’s passing, he married this evil bitch. My dad made good money and she didn’t and had two young kids. She knew what she was doing.

I was living at home while I went to CSULB. Teri lived at home too. We couldn’t stay at my place because of my evil step mother.

I woke up in her bedroom more times than I can count. I remember an embarrassing moment, one morning, when her mother stuck her face in the door and asked how we were doing? I slipped back under the covers.

The parents were very nice people and liked me. So they lured me with the game of Hearts and chips and bean dip…which I had never had.

My father was a real ass about us getting married. Especially since Teri was a shiksa.

Behind my back, Teri went into L.A. once or twice a week to take Jew lessons at a synagogue. This went on for months. The day after she converted, she told me.

I grabbed on to her and wouldn’t let go. No one had ever done such a wonderful thing just for me. I grew up being taken care of by I-don’t-give- a- shit housekeepers while my mother was in the hospital from the time I was 9-18. She passed two weeks before I started college. My father spent all of his time in L.A. with his whore. I was lost. No one to talk to. This happened before Teri and I started dating. I was 18. My mother was 42. She’s been gone 51 years. Wow.

All of my time was spent with Teri. We went everywhere together. It was the first real love of my life. It made me a whole person.

There were some pretty wacky times and I will continue the saga….

But next on the agenda is the crazy, rock n roll way I met my wife of 29 years.

P.S.
Bob Moreash had an older, sadistic, bully of a brother. Ever heard of a parrot? I mean in verb fashion…as in, “I just gave him a Parrot.” Mike would come into Bob’s on Friday nights with his buddies and torture was always on the table.

He had a friend, Jimmy, who was very pathetic. He was happy to be in this little wicken coven and allowed himself to be taken advantage of. Jimmy had polio when he was younger and needed leg braces and crutches to move about.

One night, we sat at a table next to Mike’s. He leaned over to us and said, “Watch this.”

He reached under the table and crushed Jimmy’s balls in a death grip. Jimmy squawked like a parrot from the pain. The whole restaurant turned around. And all you could hear was Mike’s uproarious laughter. He did this to us many times but he was built like an ox and there was nothing we could do other than try to stay away from him. More on Mike later.

Hi. It’s me uncloaked:
phil2

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