Wrapper: Nicaraguan
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 6 x 56
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $25.00
Date Released: October 2024
Quantity Released: 7,500 Boxes of 20
Factory: Tabacalera AJ Fernandez Cigars de Nicaragua S.A
My cigars received 18 months of naked humidor time.
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
AJ calls it a Toro but it’s really a Gordo. Normally, I don’t review giant cigars because they take forever to flourish. This baby has 18 months of home imprisonment so it should be raring to go.
It’s a solid cigar but I can’t recollect any AJ’s built badly. Construction is always on Fernandez’s mind. The veins look like a map of Mars. The pointy cap reminds me of a suppository…not that there’s anything wrong with that. And the double cigar bands are classy.
Ooh, the wrapper smells lusciously chocolaty, nutty, cedary, and barnyardy. With after tones of baking spices, black earth, citrus, and schmeggle dust…which can only be found in flower arranging seminars in Bohners Lake, Wisconsin.
For fun, I try my PerfecPunch. If it works, I will show a photo. If not, I will retrieve every bit of my precious bodily fluid I donated to the baby maker bank in 1979. Speaking of which, does this look like a reservoir tip?
It becomes obvious that this is a heavy cigar the moment I decide to do the participle dangle from my lips. I once had great jaw strength…coupled with a masterful tongue. Now, I mostly drool while staring at fishing gear in my Farm & Fleet catalog and then get a sore tongue from unwarranted consumption of kosher chopped liver. Hold the gefilte fish.
The cold draw is mostly black coffee but has smaller sides of honeyed prunes, raw cashews, fresh pumpernickel, black pepper, and a deep earthiness.
Using vaporizing action, I light this beast. I taste a massive black pepper influence hoodwinked into nestling among wild nubiles in the black timberland. It smacks of rain saturated earth deep in the forest. Still doesn’t sound right. It good. That better. Mongo straight.
This ain’t no AJ I’ve ever smoked. If I had blind tasted this, AJ would be a fur piece down the list. But two minutes in, the assemblage of power keeps AJ in the top 5. It tastes similar to the fancy 601 La Bomba Warhead VII Churchill ($18 2025) or the Lure Cigars Redfish ($15 2025) or the Dunbarton Mi Querida The Emerald Fish ($16 2025).
This is one of those meaty cigars that fills your mouth and heart with visions of hunting wild boar in just a loin cloth. You’d be wearing a camo bikini. Imagine sticking your entire head into a large, tariffed barrel of expensive fertilizer. That’s how earthy it is.
Red pepper arrives as my mouth and sinuses go blind from the spiciness.
An inch in and the profile changes. It startled me. I lick my lips because I can’t identify this. It’s creamy, herby, and…I must cop that I read the HW review from December 2024 and I noticed that they described one of the flavors as pencil lead. I haven’t tasted a #2 pencil in a long time but I do now. The thing that surprises me is that it tastes great. Takes me back to 2nd grade. BTW, HW gave this cigar 91. Which is like $7.75 per gallon from me.
Oh man, I smoked one of these a year ago and maybe it was the wrong time, because it was just OK. Now, I’m like a wild boar in a loin cloth covering a new crop of merkins. And this isn’t my first cigar of the day. I remove the loin cloth, and I have two vaginal openings. One for storing my cigar accessories. And one to win me some beers at bars.
Inch two ends and it’s even meatier and spicier.
Normally, the gold lay in the second half. The only way this blend could improve is if the spiciness would calm the fuck down. By far, the spiciest cigar I’ve smoked in a boar’s age.
The first half was curmudgeonly. Because of the spice. Flavorful but not a relaxing cigar. It stands over you like your S&M fantasy boss with a cat o’ nine tails. It’s fun but not restful.
As the second half settles in, the spiciness calms. By doing so, it allows the subtle notes of fudge brownies, walnuts, and espresso to rise to the surface. I can finally notice serious complexity that was missing in the first half. There was always vigor, but it came from rich earthiness rather than dense layers.
The cigar’s strength began at medium/full right out of the gate. I expected an ass kicking but it has remained manageable without any signs of nicotine. In my old age, I don’t like nicotine…ever. As a young man of 65, it was no big deal. But now, at 104, it is disruptive to the cigar experience.
I’m working with Alex for a very cool Cigar Page May contest. Plus, we will be introducing a once-a-week flash sale that will also debut in May. Unfortunately for you, videos seem to be in my future.
This giant cigar requires a serious time commitment. If I write in the morning, I want the whole michegos to end even more than you. But in the afternoon, I can frolic. I can bathe Charlotte in her sensory deprivation tank. Or I can shave Sammy the Cat with my second-hand manscaping razor. Or I can nap in the iron lung that Dr. Rod gave me for being the best shill he’s ever seen.
Black cherries as the blend veers towards a more Padron 1926-like profile. The spiciness is manageable. Flavors congeal into a warm blankey. Complexity rules the roost. Transitions are appropriate. And the blend becomes a grownup cigar. I wish it was affordable. I make a living scouring seabeds for scallops whose deviated septums make them a delicacy. As the tainted Lake Michigan turns sea critters black, I spend a fortune on Clorox. Can I get a witness?
The last third sees the strength hit full tilt. No nicotine, just raw power. Thankfully, I dropped LSD when I was younger in order to avoid the draft. I was beaten up a lot in Quentin so I’m sensitive to big black tubular veiny things. I learned to skate across the yard while whistling from my ass.
This is a great cigar but if you can’t handle muscle, clout, sway, and dominance, keep on walking.
This cigar sold out quickly 18 months ago, but a couple retailers still have them. They aren’t sponsors so I face ridicule if I submit them for your approval. The first is Mike’s Cigars but you must buy an entire box for $500. Another is Cigar Place and you can snag a fiver for $106 instead of $125.
RATING: 95
Discover more from Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
Your imagination is wild! I asked AI if it could replicate an article in your style and it blushed. Hope your getting good weather soon. If Farm & Fleet had a walk in humidor it’s possible I might have never left.
LikeLike
I asked AI to give me their version of this review, written in my style:
AJ Fernandez 20th Anniversary — The Katman‑Esque Review
Wrapper: Nicaraguan
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: Toro-that’s-really-a-Gordo
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: The kind of money that makes your wallet wince
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH
AJ calls this thing a Toro, but let’s be honest — it’s a Gordo wearing Spanx. The cigar is so dense it could be used to club a musk ox. Construction? Immaculate. AJ could roll a cigar underwater during a hurricane and it would still burn straighter than my posture after three chiropractic lawsuits.
The wrapper smells like a chocolate bar that fell into a cedar chest during a barn collapse. Notes of earth, nuts, baking spice, and that mysterious “old man basement” aroma you only get from humidors built before the Carter administration.
Cold draw: black coffee, cashews, dark bread, and the faint memory of a prune that died bravely.
FIRST THIRD
Boom. Black pepper. Enough to exfoliate your sinuses. The first puffs hit like a Nicaraguan lumberjack kissing you on the forehead after a long day of chopping volcanic soil.
Earthiness dominates — the kind of earth you only find in places where ancient civilizations buried their secrets and their accountants.
There’s a meaty quality too. Not steak. Not brisket. More like the spiritual essence of meat. The Platonic ideal of protein.
SECOND THIRD
The spice calms down like a toddler after a juice box crash. Suddenly the cigar becomes civilized — creamy, nutty, a little sweet. Espresso shows up wearing a leather jacket. Walnuts wander in behind it like they own the place.
Complexity blossoms. Transitions smooth out. You start thinking, “Maybe this cigar is worth the price of a small used car.”
A faint mineral note appears — pencil lead, but in a sexy way. Like licking a #2 Ticonderoga during finals week because you needed the comfort.
FINAL THIRD
Strength ramps up. Not nicotine‑sick strong — just “I could bench‑press a Buick” strong.
Flavors deepen: black cherry, dark chocolate, espresso sludge scraped from the bottom of a demitasse used by a Venetian gondolier.
The cigar becomes warm, rich, and confident. A grown‑up cigar. A cigar that pays its taxes early and judges you for not doing the same.
Burn line stays razor sharp. Draw stays perfect. Construction remains AJ‑level bulletproof.
THE VERDICT
A powerhouse blend with elegance hiding under all that muscle.
If you like cigars that start like a fistfight and end like a velvet robe, this is your jam.
RATING: 95 Katmans out of 100
If you want, I can also write:
a harsher, more unhinged Katman version
a shorter, punchier one
a ferret‑narrated review (which feels very on‑brand for you)
or a side‑by‑side parody of the real Katman review you’re reading
Katman Here: Close but no cigar. I’m safe…for now. In two years, maybe there will be no distinguishable difference. With only 7 months to go before I say sayonara, it seems I picked the right moment in time for my exit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
lol!
LikeLike