Unco B's Stogie Diary

Wrapper: Habano Hybrid
Binder: Habano
Filler: Pelo de Oro, Corojo 99, Ligero
Size: Toro (6 x 52)
Strength: Mild–Medium → Medium–Full
Price: ~$14.99 MSRP (varies by retailer)
Date Released: Late 2020 (expanded in 2021)
Blenders: Robert Holt, AJ Fernandez
Factory: Tabacalera AJ Fernandez Cigars de Nicaragua S.A. (Estelí, Nicaragua)
Experience Rating: 100

“Wow! Just wow!” was what I posted on Reddit while smoking this cigar. It’s one I’ve had a few times before, and I’ve always loved it—one of the best I’ve smoked. This morning, I was rummaging through my tupperdors looking for something to smoke when my gaze fell on a box of Manzanitas I picked up a few days ago. I usually let new boxes sit for at least a month before sampling one, but when I saw the box date—8/4/2023—I knew I had to light it up.

My only concern about smoking one so soon after delivery was whether it would be acclimated. But the burn line was reasonably straight throughout and only required a couple of touch-ups.

When I’ve smoked it before, I didn’t know the box dates, but it always came across as a bright, lively cigar. With this much box aging, it retains that liveliness while becoming far more composed and refined. Halfway through the smoke, I knew I was going to give it a 100-point rating. It fulfilled everything I look for when evaluating a cigar.

It’s not a rating I give lightly.

For me to give a cigar a rating of 100, it has to fully realize itself. Nothing missing. Nothing forced. Nothing gets in the way. A 100 doesn’t mean it’s perfect. It means the experience was entirely fulfilling.

And this cigar was truly fulfilling.

Who doesn’t love seeing a brown cello? When I do, I start salivating in anticipation of a great experience. That’s not always the case, but more often than not, it’s a signal of a well-balanced, flavor-filled cigar. I smiled when I slid the cello off the Manzanita this morning.

The wrapper glistens with an oily sheen, giving off notes of barnyard, citrus flower, sourdough, dried apricot, leather, and hay. The foot adds a deeper floral note, while the cold draw brings malt, hay, dried fruit, and a touch of bay leaf.

I light up the cigar and am instantly overwhelmed by a barrage of flavors: cedar, black pepper, coffee, vanilla, cream, dried fruit, peanut, and chocolate. And those are just the ones I could pick out. It was like playing Whack-a-Mole at triple speed—I could get some, but I missed most.

That’s a declaration right there: this is a flavor bomb.

What amazes me is that through all these transitions, the smoke is super smooth. No sharp edges. No elbows out. Looking back, while all that was happening, a core was forming—coffee, earth, cream, milk chocolate, and red pepper spice. But that opening salvo masked it.

Though I may have noticed a core forming, the activity never stopped, with wave upon wave of flavors coming at me. Transition after transition—it just kept coming. I found myself trying to break them into categories just to make sense of it, but they came randomly and often in combination. Cedar would show up, then give way to fruit—dried apricot, apple, citrus, stone fruit—followed by flashes of anise. Roasted nuts moved in and out—peanut, almond, walnut—while savory notes built underneath: grilled steak, pork sausage, grilled onion.

It made me think of the scene in The Terminator where Kyle Reese tells Sarah Connor: It. Will. Not. Stop. But the best part is that all of this is happening at medium strength with virtually no nicotine. Usually, this kind of chaos pulls a cigar into greater strength, but that never happens here.

The cigar stays rooted to its core, demonstrating a discipline that keeps everything in check. No matter how much it throws at you, it never loses its footing. The transitions keep coming, but they don’t disrupt the experience. They build on it. Everything feels connected and intentional.

Through the halfway point, that same pattern holds. The transitions continue, the cigar remains balanced, and it never goes off the rails. This is AJ’s blending discipline on full display.

Then, just past halfway, the strength moves to medium+, and nicotine finally makes an appearance. The transitions slow down but don’t stop, and the profile begins to lean toward the savory and nutty. Subtle, fruity sweetness flickers in and out, keeping everything lifted.

In the home stretch, the cigar finally begins to slow down. It settles into a cruise. Strength drops back to medium, though the body remains medium+. The gentle spice becomes mouth-coating and ambient.

The transitions move at a slower pace now, like waves lapping onto shore—saltwater taffy, sourdough, peanuts, grilled, fatty pork sausage, stone fruit, malted milk balls, an indistinct woody note, and pine nuts. At the same time, the core deepens. Coffee darkens, milk chocolate turns to dark chocolate, the cream thickens, and the earth takes on a slightly damp character, with nicotine building just a touch.

In the last couple of inches, spice takes the lead, but remains gentle. Transitions slow down further, and the profile turns fully savory—grilled meat, umami shifting between cheese and mushroom, and dark-roasted, salted nuts.

Then, in the last inch, everything converges into the core. The transitions cease entirely. Spice ticks up, leaving a pleasing tingle on my lips. It’s all core now. Roasted nuts resolve into hazelnut, which integrates into the core and punctuates the finish.

I’m spent.

I feel like I just got off the Guardians of the Galaxy ride at Disneyland—mentally overwhelmed by the onslaught, but at the same time completely hyped. As I near the end, the strength builds to full, and the nicotine subsides.

That was a great ride.

You can buy the Southern Draw Manzanita at Cigar Page. I’ve checked, and they’ve got the best prices on these. No discount code on this one. You’ll see why.

Total smoke time: 1:40