(Please read our Covid 19 Statement first - Ed) "Cuban food, I want to try Cuban food."
This was Tim's refrain when we ended up in Miami. Last year, we went to Little Havana on Calle Ocho (8th Street) in Miami - the heart of the Cuban American community. We made the mistake of going on a Sunday when this heavily Catholic neighborhood shuts down and almost everything is closed.
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We could find nothing but a bakery open that day but it was a good bakery and we got this box of delicious desserts.
Also, here in Los Angeles, we tried Cuban food (and tried another local Cuban place just before writing this to make sure our memory was correct) and it was pretty dry and tasteless. OK, Tim, we'll try it but I can't say I'm thrilled at the prospect.
We board a local bus near our hotel that will take us to the far end of Calle Ocho. From here, it's about another twenty minutes of walking in that Miami heat. Soon, we're at our destination.
Versailles is the most famous Cuban restaurant here and I think it can give us a good idea of what the Cuban food here in Miami is like as compared to back home. On arriving, we see the bakery next door to the main restaurant, then a take-out counter, and then the restaurant proper where we are seated promptly.
Perusing the extensive menu, Tim goes with a Cuban sandwich, I go with a corn chowder with pork (the day's special), and Letty had the sampler plate with such delicacies as fried plantains, pork chunks, ropa vieja, and cuban tamale.
Tim loves his Cuban sandwich. I take a taste, pressed like a panini with sweet ham, pork, mustard and pickles, it's a moist and juicy explosion of taste. Excellent, nothing like the Cuban sandwiches back home.
Letty is enjoying everything on her plate...
...and my stew is a hearty, tasty, and cheap lunch that, somehow, fails to leave even a drop left over.
We hit the bakery afterward...
...and pick up a few treats to finish off this delicious meal at Miami's landmark Cuban restaurant. We are all very satisfied when done.
The only bad thing about Versailles is that it's a ways from the center of the action in Little Havana proper. Luckily, there's a trolley stop where the Little Havana Trolley stops, across the street at the Woodlawn cemetery. One is pulling up now...
I point out Tim to the driver, he opens the door..."yes."
"We have a wheelchair, can you deploy the lift?"
"You need to wait for the next one."
"Why? Is the lift broken?"
"You need to wait for the next one."
"But we're here and need a ride now. It's hot and humid, please open up the ramp."
"Next trolley is five minutes," the driver finished as he closed the door and drove off.
Now, let me give you transit drivers a bit of advice...you don't want to deny boarding to someone in a wheelchair just because you don't want to deal with the hassle. Especially if they have a phone on them. Especially if there is a sign at the bus stop saying "Problems with access? Call..." with a number to call.
Especially if that guy standing next to that sign holding a phone is me.
While we waited for the next trolley (which showed up 20 minutes later, not 5) I called the number, talked to a friendly rep and...thanks to the Trolley's mobile website with a live map...was able to give them the exact bus and driver who refused to pick us up.
The next trolley shows up, the driver hopping out and opening the ramp..."why didn't the other driver pick you up?" she asks without prompting. I'm guessing the dispatcher broadcast the reprimand to all drivers over the radio.
"Don't know," my wife answers.
"He's in big trouble," the new driver says. Hope so, I think.
The trolley drops us off in the heart of Little Havana at 17th Avenue. Today's a Tuesday, it's very lively. My wife checks out the souvenirs in the "visitor's center," actually a trinket shop, where's she's trying to get the clerk's attention to buy a coffee mug as about 60 passengers of a tour bus walk in. Finally, she's able to get her item bought and we can move on.
It's hot, muggy, crowded, and we could use a drink after our trolley follies so we check into the Ball and Chain, an old bar anchoring the avenue. Mojitos are a cheap seven bucks in the midday sun, so we each have one.
They're delicious and refreshing as we move on.
A walled mini park nearby hosts a few tables of domino playing locals. They don't seem to really enjoy that they've become a tourist attraction but they try to ignore the tourists snapping away.
After kicking around a few more shops, having a little ice cream to cool down, we wait for a trolley to come by to take us back to the hotel. Guess who the driver is?
That's right, the same guy who refused us the first time but now, maybe with his tail between his legs after getting it chewed off by his boss, he is very helpful, friendly, and eagerly deploys the lift to take us back to our hotel.
Remember, my friends, don't let them push you around...push back when needed.
The air conditioning of our room feels good. We'll rest up, dry off, and get ready. We've got a very big game to go to tonight which we'll cover in our next installment.
Darryl Musick
Copyright 2018 - All Rights Reserved
Photos by Letty Musick
Copyright 2018 - All Rights Reserved
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