Earlier this week, my boyfriend and I were looking for a quick place to grab a bite. I decided that we should give a Cuban place in my neighborhood that I’d been eyeing a try.
It was getting late, and our expectations were low. We weren’t feeling particularly picky; our only requirement was that it be something to fill our growling stomachs. So, we popped into Havana Alma De Cuba to check out the menu.
It was one of the first really warm spring days of the year–so when the server suggested we take a look at the garden area in the back, we jumped at the opportunity. It was absolutely charming. We were seated at a candlelit table where we could gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.
Somehow we had stumbled into the most romantic date of our lives and we weren’t even trying.
We ordered some cocktails, after which we were informed that it was Happy Hour until close. Of course, that meant that the drinks would keep coming in a steady flow for the duration of the meal.
I ordered the Red Snapper, and the boy got Skirt Steak. We, of course, had to get sweet plantains as well.
Everything came out promptly and was perfectly cooked. The flavors were subtle, but well-defined, and the portions were big enough to satisfy, without over-stuffing ourselves into oblivion. It was one of those serendipitous accidental meals where we simply couldn’t believe our luck.
All said and done, I’d be overjoyed to return; but then again, the unexpected magic of it all might not hold up.