Espinosa Knuckle Sandwich Maduro | Cigar Reviews by the Katman

Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6 x 54 Toro Box Pressed
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $13.96

Photo courtesy of Atlantic Cigar:

I reviewed the companion piece in the Habano version mid-March. It was stupendous. The Maduro had a little time to make up as it just wasn’t ready till now.

Factory: AJ Fernandez San Lotano – Nicaragua
Released: February 2022
From (1-4-2022):
“Celebrity chef and restaurateur Guy Fieri is getting into the cigar business, and he’s doing so by teaming up with Espinosa Premium Cigars to create Knuckle Sandwich Cigars.

“In early January, social media posts began to suggest that Fieri and Espinosa were working together, though a video posted to Facebook featuring Fieri indicated the cigars would be debuting in February. While a source familiar with the project told halfwheel that there will be two blends released, one of which will be a habano-based blend, while the other is based around a maduro wrapper, we now know much more about the project.

“They will be offered in the same three sizes and packing formats, though with slight price differences, and the Habano coming in red boxes while the Maduro is presented in black boxes.

“It is a project that has been in the works for approximately 18 months, with Fieri described as being very hands-on in the process. “Guy’s a cigar guy, loves to smoke, and is super excited about this project,” said Erik Espinosa in a press release. “We are very excited with the level of enthusiasm Guy has brought to this project, and we are both looking forward to getting out there and promoting this brand.”

“As for the letters that appear after the vitola name, they are nods to significant people in Fieri’s life.”

Corona Gorda R 5.625 x 46 $11.96
Robusto J 5 x 52 $12.96
Toro H 6 x 54 $13.96

Espinosa made a purty stick here. The wrapper is a dark cocoa with a sumptuous amount of oil gyrating around its perimeter. The box press is crisp and alluring as having Marilyn Monroe singing happy birthday to you. Few veins. Seams are visible but as tight as a Venus flytrap’s closed yap. The triple cap is a bit sloppy. But do I care? Yes, I do…I care about everything…except colostomy bag malfunctions, fortune tellers named Betty, is my dog finally getting enough cheese, how tiny my Nathan’s wiener is becoming, or worrying that Generalissimo Franco is still dead.

The stick is packed nicely without hard or soft spots. I did find a boil near the bottom third…I lanced it and covered it with OTC boil cream. I taste it to make sure it won’t affect my palate and its fine. That statement alone should tell you everything you need to know about my validity as a reviewer.

Pretty much the usual suspects: Floral notes, dark chocolate, black pepper, some vanilla creaminess, cedar, barnyard, and Peppermint Patty.
The air flows free like a 65-year-old ex-Playboy bunny sitting on your lap. I remove my PerfecDraw draw adjustment tool from the latex and gauze boo boo dressing and slide it back underneath one of my man boobs.
The cold draw presents flavors of dark chocolate, black pepper, cinnamon, caramel, cedar, mint, nutty, and a hunka, hunka burning love.

Outta the gate, the blend makes me purse my lips as an avalanche of flavors split the atom: spicy black pepper, strong espresso, dark cacao, cinnamon, charred filet, and sweet caramel. This is how a cigar should start. I recently reviewed a few cigars whose prices assumedly would be giant boners from the start; and weren’t. Took them the entire first half to come out of their comas.

An immediate balance of Sweet v. Savory. A groovy kind of love.

Transitions begin like a traveling carny show. The finish is mostly spiciness that is intoxicating and heart stopping. The blend sets the standard of what is to come from the moment I picked the cigar from my humidor.

“Can’t You See?” Marshall Tucker Band. Love Southern Rock.

The intense flavors are dynamiting giant holes in my soul that causes Rickets.

I gave the Habano version only a 91 because, while it was excellent, I smoked it too soon. I should have waited but then I have no patience. Anyone tells you that once you are elderly, you mellow out…well, rip their gonads off and toss them to your pet iguana…or put them on eBay. Someone from Japan will buy them.

I’m having burn issues. I’m holding off putting torch to foot as long as I can. It just fucks up the taste a little when you reheat your cigar while reviewing it.

Chocolate and espresso dominate the matrix.

The complexity is scratching and clawing at my palate wanting to be recognized and given a plaque.

I love Habano blends. I love Maduro more…because I find them naturally sweeter…and allowing for a balance I enjoy more than the rigid Habano leaf.

Strength wastes no time. It started at an eyeball reticle of medium…but now is happily ensconced at medium/full. I have a box of dental floss I got from my ranch in Montana that I can use to wrap my palate if the cigar becomes too strong.
Ooh, ooh baby…

If you scream while having sex in the forest, and you are alone…do the perv animals cloister around you? I know that Sammy the Cat likes to don a Hannibal Lecter mask and stick his nose up my ass when Charlotte and I have our bi-annual sex marathon that can last up to 4 minutes.

I’m covered in cigar goo. I don’t know how Espinosa and Fieri got to this blend…but they did good. I’ve always enjoyed Espinosa blends, but this stick is something special…like you, dear readers…that’s why I cut off the comment sections.

It is amazing how many cigars plotz in this $14 range now. Unfortunately, not that many are so great. This is where I tell my British Commonwealth readers to take a deep breath…they pay three times for cigars than we red blooded Americans do. But then that’s the price they must pay for genuflecting to a monarchy.

It’s taken 30 minutes to burn 2”. It takes longer than that to get urine to flow from my ancient penis. Can I get an amen from my older readers?

The blend keeps on keeping on. Just a brilliant blend. And only a couple months of naked humidor time. My kind of cigar.

You know, you get to my age, and you’ve seen your friends and relatives drop in their 50’s and 60’s. But I have alibis for where I was in each situation.

I cannot imagine how spectacular this blend will become in the second half…a major sweet spot awaits with alacrity and a foundling baby.

The blend, while possessing a nice finish that sends flavor signals to my chimp brain, is more about the whole outweighing the disparate flavor points. A blend for He-Men. If you drive a Nash Rambler, you don’t qualify.

I thought by now, the strength would have hit full tilt. It still sulks underneath the bramble in medium/full mode. The second half lurks in the darkness waiting to chemically castrate me.

I would love to buy a box of these babies and let them marinate till WWIII starts next month.

The broad spectrum of intricacies that whizz by like a politician on fire…as well they should be…just nail it. My palate celebrates with singing the entire catalog of Three Dog Night.

Halfway point arrives. And you’re slapping your forehead saying to yourself: “Oh God. He isn’t done writing yet?”

Full tilt strength arrives in a plainly wrapped shipping box along with a variety of edible panties.

Sweet spot is on time.

If Espinosa was greedy, this could have been a more expensive cigar. I spoke to Erik last week and before I could say hello, he hung up on me. So, I called Dr. Rod and he let me say hello before he hung up on me. That is a good friend.

This is where I usually piss and moan about the nicotine…but I still have 20-80 in both eyes.

Little flavor tidbits show up in the fast transitions, but it is the chocolate, espresso, spiciness, and creaminess that drive the bus.

Newbies…if you want to rid yourself of your useless Depends, this is the cigar that will make you a full fledged 1960’s flashback.

As it appears that this is at least a 90-minute smoke, you want to make time for it. No worse human error than to ditch a cigar during its sweet spot. Tell the hooker you ordered, and showed up early, to wait.

“You Don’t Love Me” by The Allman Brothers has got my brain doing the bossa nova slides.

Sips of water bring out massive flavor notes that beg my merkin to spin counterclockwise. I have merkins for all occasions…casual or formal. I even have one with a top knot.

I am very content and remotely indigenous.

The early wonky burn corrected itself hours ago.

In my peripheral vision, I see an old and wrinkled Redwood tree. I look up and it is a naked Charlotte asking if I know where her favorite bra is. I pull up my tee shirt and show her.

I can now spew the words that I believe this is Espinosa’s finest work.

The temp will hit 50 degrees in Milwaukee today. Summer at last.

I need to pee…be back in 35 minutes.
Sorry for the wait…it took longer.

If any cigar ever screamed out “Nub me!!, this is the blend. Do I use my PerfecDraw or my 1967 roach clip? I hate making important decisions before noon.

SRV. “I’m Cryin’” Never got to see him in concert. But I did get asked to jam with the Fabulous Thunderbirds in the early 80’s when his brother was still with the band. I was lucky to have my Ocarina with me.

The full tilt strength is completely tolerable and does not cause bodily harm to my vital organs. Although, I can hear my pancreas mumbling obscenities.

Remember the band, X? I didn’t think so.

Ever get your schwanz caught in your zipper? Me neither. And now that I’m older, it is physically impossible.

Yeah, I know this is a cigar review. 100 years from now, smokers will read my reviews and think I was mentally ill. Totally untrue…although typing is difficult while wearing a straitjacket.

This cigar has been a total delight. An adventure. A seduction. A wet dream. A dish rag caught in my anus. A blip on the universe’s timeline. A second chance to transition.

Sure enough. The cigar finishes at 95 minutes. I am spent. I light up a Menthol cigarette and stroke my bowl of gruel.

The cigar is a must.
The cigars can be purchased from Atlantic Cigar and Small Batch Cigar.
I need to clean the litter box now. I really wish Charlotte would let me use the toilet.