La Cubanita

A comfortable half hour on the red 'banquettes' under the stairs afforded us time to take in the atmosphere of La Cubanita. New, warm, lively and loud. Very LOUD.

Our Scottish hostess (and restaurant owner) wooed us with her practiced sacharine charm offence, before we were taken to our band-side table under the patio window. From here-on-in the night soured and cooled along with us - the frozen guests eating cold food.

We asked twice for the heating to be turned up.

We waited far too long for our food.

We shouted in each others ears to made ourselves heard over the band.

But it would all be worth it when the food came!

Mediocre starters (several tried the lobster cakes) were greeted warmly by our 13 strong table, bolstered by our desperation to eat. Eat something, eat anything...before we wasted away.

An equally long wait for the main courses. Our optimism tangible. A resaurant that looks so great and makes such a fuss of it's diners must have a great chef, yes? He was obviously having a well deserved 'cigar' break (along with the lobster) when we ordered our starters but the next course would be different.

3 of us ordered the "Lechon Asado" at £15.75 each.

I quote from the menu "(probably the most popular dish in any Cuban household)

Succulent pork, in a marinade of lime juice and

garlic and served with congri (rice and beans)" Mmmmmmm......mmmm!

Perhaps the 'probably' of the 'probably the most popular dish in any Cuban household' was a "Carlsberg" probably, as in 'probably the best lager in the world'.

If it is indeed true, when I visit Cuba next, I 'probably' won't stop for tea at a Cuban house even it is prepared by Senora Castro herself.

A bed of cold rice and beans, cheap salad leaves, topped by a cold pork steak, hammered and pulverised to within an inch of it's edibility.

I got no taste of the marinade but instead had to squeeze my lime garnish over the entire dish to give it some flavour and enough moisture to get it down my throat. Others had ordered the meat skewers. Embarrassingly they arrived in full grandeur on cast iron holders, dangling precariously and getting colder by the second. The ubiquitous bed of rice of beans lay quietly underneath but was an odd shade of grey. A slightly unpalatable shade of grey.

We all chewed till our jaws ached and washed the whole thing down with jugs of water to stop it getting stuck on the way down. Pulling faces at each other to express our disappointment and dismay as the band 'probably' called "el grande decibel" prevented meaningful conversation.

Desert was out of the question.

Two of our party engaged in a fantastic 'cha cha cha' on the dance floor. For that alone the night was worth it. Nevertheless, I probably won't be visiting La Cubanita ever again.
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Saturday, March 29, 2008