(Photo courtesy of Rappy!)

(Quick note: Apologies for still not blogging regularly...I should have known that after spending the past two weeks with sick people, I'd get sick myself. Grrrr.)

So, I've thought for a while about how to best tell the story of our trip to Miami without having to rehash every single detail, bore you all to death, or incriminate myself. Heh. As on any tour, our activities can pretty much be divided up into three categories: food, friends, and (of course) music. And as is my wont, I'll start with our Cuban culinary adventures.

Seeing multiple-night runs of shows usually means that we're up late at night, sleeping late in the morning, and eating only one meal a day (a big lunch). In the past year or so, though, we've figured out that a little research and forethought can mean that one meal can be a gourmet experience. This summer, for example, on the last leg of our crazy jaunt up and down the East Coast, M and I figured out that we'd have an afternoon to kill in Philly - the perfect excuse to eat at Morimoto. (Fish before Phish!) That meal (exquisite and outstanding) sealed our touring philosophy: if you're just going to eat once a day, make the most of it. I mean, we're almost 30 years old here, way too old to subsist on grilled cheese from the lot.

So before we left for Miami, Jackie and I did some research and came up with a list of restaurants for lunch and one for dinner. For the most part, we wanted to try to find authentic Cuban food, have some fresh seafood, and have one night out in South Beach where we focused more on the scene than the eats. I'd have to say we accomplished our goals pretty darn well this time.

Lario's on the Beach/Bongo's: We chose this for our night out in South Beach because Dave and Jackie had been there before, enjoyed the food, and enjoyed the live salsa music during dinner. Unfortunately, they failed to impress upon me that the salsa music was GOING TO BE VERY VERY LOUD, and so I was a party pooper and we were seated upstairs where the music was quieter (and our neighbors were loud).

We began with mojitos (mint, lime, and simple syrup muddled together then mixed with rum and club soda) which were good, but nowhere near those from our beloved Luna Park. All four of us shared a PuPu platter full of yummy bite-sized goodies: fried pork, croquettes, tamales, and these awesome fried potato puffs stuffed with chorizo which I would have never thought would work together but which was outstanding. I had a lovely piece of fresh grouper, M had more fried pork, Jackie had Churrasco steak with Chimichurri sauce (a tangy loose pesto with garlic, parsley, lemon juice, and herbs) and Dave had a seafood platter that seemed more Cajun (think etoufée) than Cuban, but was delicious nonetheless. The best part of all our meals was the beans and rice that were brought on the side. As usual, there was enough food to feed a small African country. And you wonder why Americans are fat. We all thought the meal was good, not amazing, but we were there for the South Beach scene, which is truly insane, and about which I will write more another time.

Versailles: This was by far the culinary highlight of our trip. Versailles can accurately be described as “the Cuban Denny’s,” a gigantic restaurant done as a very tacky over-the-top replica of Versailles (replete with a “Hall of Mirrors”) that serves diner-style low-fuss Cuban food to tons and tons of people, most of them Cuban families, some of them intrepid tourists (like ourselves) who venture into the Little Havana section of Miami in search of authentic fare. I had heard great things about this place - cheap, fast, authentic, a bit insane - and we weren’t disappointed.

We went for lunch on Sunday after Rappy joined us for the day and fueled up for the first show with a huge lunch. Jackie and I had the “Cuban Pot Roast:” a few large pieces of meat stuffed with chorizo (again with the chorizo! I love that stuff…), Rappy had the Ropa Vieja (I’ll let her tell you about it), and Dave had something seafood-y again. We also had a pitcher of excellent sangria – not too sweet, not overly fruity, and truly refreshing. It was a great pre-show meal, casual, relaxing, and truly authentic. (Although, we’re still trying to decide if our waiter Yasser was as authentic as the food.)

In fact, we enjoyed our lunch at Versailles so much, we returned for a late night snack the next evening after the show (around 1am) and I ordered a “Calle Ocho” Cuban sandwich (named for the street the restaurant is on). This was truly the most outstanding thing I ate all week. It was basically only a grilled club sandwich on Cuban bread (which is like a big soft white roll with a light crispy crust) with ham, turkey, bacon, cheese, and a few veggies, but - maybe because I was starving after the show, or maybe because they did something special to the sandwich that I couldn’t discern - it was incredible. At 2am, I ate almost the entire thing, which is unheard of for me. If they could ship this sandwich to San Francisco, I’d do it in a second. I would return to Miami solely for this sandwich. I need to figure out how to recreate this sandwich. (Can you tell I liked the sandwich?)

So. Good.

Van Dyke Cafe: Van Dyke’s was another lunch spot that we chose solely for its location along South Beach’s Lincoln Road mall, a nice outdoor promenade with shopping and flower markets and greenery. Of course, it was a bit too cool to sit outdoors, so we sat inside. Heh. The only memorable things about this meal (it was pretty standard café fare… it was recommended highly on Chowhound, but I can’t quite figure out why) were the outstanding piña coladas and the fact that I learned that the person who had sat in my seat right before me was the gorgeous and talented Larry Mullen. Since I have quite a thing for cute drummers, this knowledge was decidedly better than the food at hand.

Big Fish: Big Fish was not originally on our list, but was a last minute addition because it was walkable from the hotel and we were tired. (And hey! More Fish before Phish! Heh.) It took us a few minutes to find it because it was tucked under a bridge right on one of Miami’s many waterways. In fact, one could sail right up to the restaurant, dock the boat, and stop for a glass of wine and a salad (which many did while we were eating). While our food was good (we all ate some form of seafood, given the name of the restaurant was Big Fish), the service was horribly condescending and rude (“Oh… little lady doesn’t want a wine list…I bring you house wine. And for you, $25, not $26, OK?” *runs off*), and they messed up our orders. I could never recommend a restaurant where the service was that dismissive, though my food was awesome (I had a truly outstanding salad of fresh shrimp, tomato, avocado, and greens and some delicious crab cakes that were full of flavor and just lightly breaded and fried). Perhaps I’m spoiled living in San Francisco, but for a waiter to refuse to bring me a wine list because I’m a woman, ignore our requests for salt, pepper, water, bread, and napkins, then forget to put in my salad order? It could be the best shrimp I’ve ever eaten in my life, but I ain’t going back.

In fact, I have to say that the service in Miami as a whole was routinely horrid. People were ridiculously slow (not like the Bahamas or other tropical destinations, where you expect people to be on “Island Time” and you understand it’s just the pace of life), often messed up our orders, were fairly rude, and were pretty darn sexist. Jackie and I know what we’re doing around a menu (and a wine list, for that matter) and we take it for granted that we’ll be accorded the same courtesy as the men at the table. Most of the food – once we got it – was good…it was the getting that was miserable. My food rating for Miami: about a 5.

Except for that sandwich. The sandwich was a 12.