Not a Bad Meal In the Lot

Dearest Rachel –

It hardly needs to be said that the food on a cruise ship is expected to be, if not always gourmet (after all, the kids have to have their hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken tenders and pizza, and I don’t have any objection to those items now and again, either), at least top notch, for what they are. Granted, some leeway needs to be given for certain genres – even Azamara couldn’t seem to know the difference between ramen and miso like our Daniel could, and you remember their attempt at tempura (and our waiter warning us about it) on our very first cruise together – but as a whole, you can expect, and get, some of the best food out there. It stands to reason that it’s imperative for them to provide it, what with there being so much competition out there these days; a cruise line with sub-par cuisine is going to lose business to the many other lines would-be passengers have to choose from.

So for me to tell you the title about this trip will hardly come as a surprise, as it’s all but expected from where Lars and I were going. But what if I were to tell you that it applied even beyond the confines of the cruise itself?

To be fair, one might also expect excellence out of a place in the middle of the city. Sure, there’s plenty of tourist traffic to keep a place afloat, I should imagine (including Lars and me), especially in a popular spot such as the Bayside. Still, a good place ought to attract locals as well – and it would need them to really thrive. Such was the case with the Argentine parilla we visited the night we landed (one of several such places we walked by as we strolled through Miami after our meal, in fact – I knew about the Cuban community in the city, but it was surprising that the Argentines would be so strongly represented there as well), and which I mentioned in passing last week. People were being greeted as if they were long-time customers and friends, and while that may have just been the ethos of the restaurant itself, it certainly did no harm to the overall dining experience. The variety of options, from appetizers to meats, was vast, and while not everything appealed to me – Lars urged me to sample the blood sausage, and while I had a bite, that was quite sufficient for me – there was more than enough to satisfy the keenest gourmand. Possibly too much, in fact – Lars was not feeling his best the following morning, complaining that he overdid it on all the wonderful food.

Or, maybe it was the blood sausage.

***

The next day, once he had recovered, we wandered back out to the Bayside for something to eat, since we weren’t going to be checking in until mid-afternoon. Supposedly, there were several places that specifically served brunch on the pier, but when Lars asked someone working security where to go to eat, he directed us to a sandwich shop instead.

***

But again, these places would be expected to be good; one doesn’t survive, even in a tourist mecca, without a certain level of quality. What really turned out to be a shock was when we were waiting for our flight yesterday afternoon. As always, Lars recommended we take a half-hour walk, all the way to the opposite end of the terminal and back, and see if there was any place worth grabbing a bite before we had to fly out.

Now, you might remember how much I enjoyed the empanadas we got at the Café Versailles (which sounds like it should be a pastry shop in Shibuya, or Akihabara, with posters of Oscar and Marie Antoinette from the Beru-Bara anime, but whatever) when last you and I had to fly out from Miami. So that’s what I was looking for as we walked through, to the point where Lars was laughing at me for being obsessed with the search, as there was no shortage of such places along the way (even the Café had three locations that we passed on our way out and back).

But he wanted something a little more substantial, especially since we still had a long wait before flying out. So we settled on a sit-down place, offering… you guessed it, ‘authentic’ Cuban food. Now, I put ‘authentic’ in quotes here because, come on… this is an airport. It’s going to be grab-and-go food here; overpriced and underwhelming. It’s not like travelers have a choice when they’re stuck here, right?

As a sop to my own search, Lars suggested I order an appetizer of empenadas, and we enjoyed a couple with pulled chicken in them. I apologize for not having taken a picture of them, as the pastry was folded in a manner several steps more artistically than that of Café Versailles. Likewise, it didn’t occur to me to photograph our orders when they came out – I’m not one to take Instagrams of my food every time, and what could you expect of a meal called “ropa viejo” – literally, “old clothes”?

But we were astonished at how tasty it all was – and while mine could have been spicier, for all that it was served in what they referred to as a ‘creole’ sauce, I was more than satisfied with it. Meanwhile, Lars kept asking our waitress how his chicken and onion dish was prepared, and we learned that the “mojo” style involved an oil-and-vinaigrette marinade, with peppers, garlic powder and lime juice mixed in. Even the black beans and rice impressed him, as he mentioned a Cuban former colleague of his who would invite him to his house for dinner; this place did them better than his wife! I warned him not to tell him such, as he keeps in touch with the man, but since I doubt he’ll see this – and even less consider that I might be referring to him – I don’t think I have anything to worry about.

And that’s how it was, honey; throughout the entirety of this past week’s vacation, I hadn’t a bad meal in the lot. Even the airport food was something to write home about, quite literally – and I’ll have to look for a place that serves Cuban food around here at some point (as well as looking for sweet plantains now and then, while I’m at it). I’m sure it doesn’t compare to the food where you are, but it’s a step closer than I might have imagined, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I’ll be in touch again soon, honey. Take care, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.