Tel Aviv, Israel — BURRITO I think I have a stress-induced TACO version FAJITA of touretz syn-CHIMICHANGA-drome. It’s really ENCHILADA affecting my work per-MOLE-formance and my love NACHOS life. In trying to get some Latin flavors QUESADILLA to quell my tics, I went with some friends to Havana, a Cuban TOSTADA resto-bar, and though it wasn’t the same as my tiny little friend Guillermo makes at Los Gallos or any other restaurant I frequent in Redwood City, CA, for the time being my tics have pretty much CHALUPA stopped. Almost.
Not having grown up in south Florida, I’m not a total expert on Cuban cuisine, but they plopped some greasetastic beef empanadas in front of me and mojito’d me up real good, so there’s no doubt in my mind that this is the best Cuban restaurant in the world. Friend Who Hypnotizes People to Eat and Friend With Her Hands in Her Pants got a Cuban burger, which basically meant con puerco with a big hunk of pork on top of the beef, and they were highly satisfied as well. Especially since everything we ordered seemed to come with a side of aioli to smother over our food. And by “seemed to come with” I mean that every time we demanded more mayo, our waiter obliged and cringed at least 50% less than the average health-conscious Israeli food-service worker with whom we come into contact when we drink mayonnaise.
This is a solid stop for either food or just drinks, since their mojito menu ranges from classic to lychee to strawberry-passionfruit. And for now I think it will keep me sane until I find my salsa soulmate somewhere in this country. There’s a tiny little Mexican person out there frying up something real good for me, and I will find him or her someday. Until then, we’ll always have Havana. TACO.
1 year ago • Notes