Hello from Miami. We cast aside the cold and dreary New York City winter. The Department of Education has seen fit to bless us with a week of school closures.
The mid-winter break was originally conceived as a way to save money during the 1970s energy crisis. The closed schools saved on energy costs while students were allowed to be cold at home. The energy crisis had passed by the time the break was implemented, but the teachers enjoyed the time off and the DOE kept it in the schedule.
We arrived in Miami by car, taking highway 41 from the West Coast where we had left our toddler with grandparents for safe keeping. The road east traversed the Everglades, which is a lot like the New Jersey pine barrens but with alligators.
Air boat rentals popped up every few miles and there were a surprising number of pedestrians with fishing poles walking along the highway. We passed by a few clusters of houses labeled “Indian Village,” part of the Miccosukee Indian tribe.
The last time took this trip, we drove on Interstate 75, Alligator Alley, where we did see gators in the grassy along the road. Despite not seeing any, I’m pretty sure they were there along highway 41.
As we approached Miami, the fact that I had been awake since 6:30 a.m. and that we hadn’t eaten was catching up to me. We should eat, I said to my wife.
I suggested looking up suggestions from Anthony Bourdain’s travel shows. I had started watching the Miami episode of Parts Unknown earlier in the week. In fact, I had done the same thing two years earlier when we were last here.
I’m not usually someone who chases after television show restaurants. I hate waiting on lines. But that’s what I love about Bourdain’s recommendations. The shows are so old many of the spots have since closed, and almost all of them have lost the luster of when they first aired. If a spot still exists today, it’s probably really good. Plus, when I order, I can hear my interior monologue switch over to Bourdain’s voice.
La Esquina Tropical is a cafe stand inside a mini mart. We drove by it not seeing a sign. Then we parked and walked back. Inside the shop was a counter with a half dozen stools and a bright yellow vinyl banner with the sandwiches listed. We had arrived fairly late in the afternoon, well passed the lunch crowd, but ordered coffee, sandwiches, and coquettes.
The coffee arrived first. Sweet and foamy, it was an absolutely spectacular cup. The Cubanos arrived next, warm, toasty, and crunchy. I restrained myself long enough to wait the croquettes to snap a photo. The sacrifices I make for the sake of production value. The sandwich oozed cheese and mustard out the edges. A few sips of the sweet and bitter coffee, and we were on our way into downtown Miami to find our hotel.
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J-E-L-L-Ohhhhh
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