Cuban Special

My neighbor Mike and I went to Little Havana this weekend to experience Cuban cuisine. As I walked through the door of Versailles, I noticed that the majority of the dishes were lacking color. I typically prefer food that is red or green, but whatever, living on the edge is just something I do…I’m wild like that.

We skim over the menu and decide to start with spiked Cuban coffee and plantain chips. I’m guessing this is normal in Cuba. For the main meal, Mike orders a Cuban sandwich and I order one of the specials: macaroni with chorizo, ham, corn (something or other) and plantains. I don’t know why I ordered what I ordered, but everything else looked like it came with fried this or rice that and because I’m not a fan of either, I figured the macaroni would be safe. Much to my delight, the macaroni comes out…red. On a separate plate, the plantains are carefully laid alongside a small bowl of white crumbled mystery food. I take a short inquisitive look at it and say with confidence, “Ohh…that’s the corn part of it. I think it’s some sort of cornmeal that you dip the plantains in.” Neighbor Mike agrees. I pick up my knife and fork, dip the plantain into the cornmeal, and grant this new, bizarre food entry into my mouth.
Delicious. A little strange…but delicious.

We were standing up to leave the restaurant when I decide to ask the waiter one more question about Cuban food…”So...what exactly was that crumbly, white stuff next to the plantains?”
He hesitated as he tried to find the English word for it —
“cheese” he said, “erm, parm…parmesan cheese.”

Right. I was dipping plantains, like a dumbass (sorry Marlene), into parmesan cheese. Awesome.
Next time I go to Little Havana, I’m going to wear a pin that says, Cuban Special.