Let's start with the big one: this is a bakery.
It's not a restaurant. Really. Disregard the seating. It's a bakery that realizes you might want to eat your order right there. So when you hear all these other people complaining about the twenty-minute waits and the frantic and occasionally hit-or-miss counter service, remember that you are, in fact, visiting a bakery. You want great table service, try Bern's, or heck, try any actual restaurant. You want it fast? Go to McDonald's. Are you with me? This is a bakery. You're gonna stand in line, you're gonna make everyone else in line groan as you change your mind at the last minute, and yeah, you might need to dial back your expectations from those poor inundated cashiers to "bakery counter" levels of service. Check your order, keep your receipt, and plan to wait a while if what you're ordering isn't premade and ready.
Yeah, sure, I'd love food like this in a restaurant setting, but this isn't one. It's a bakery with seating, and that's fine. If you're really in a hurry, call your order in ahead of time, have it waiting for you when you get there. They're great about that. But again, don't go there expecting tableside service, or even a particularly smooth queueing system. This is a bakery, and it's a busy one. Expect it to feel like a bakery. People will mill around oohing and ahhing at the treats. Lines double suddenly and get messy. This is just how it goes, chief.
Now, you want a killer array of sweets and breads, plus some really great sandwiches? Good, you're in the right place. Butcher-paper-wrapped, sealed with masking tape, those sandwiches are the real deal, and the nine-inch "small" will fill up most sane people. Those double-meat twelve-inch versions for three bucks more? Heh. Listen, I'm the size of a halfway-decent starter home, and my last bites of the twelve-inch are the slow, determined, plodding steps of a prizefighter stumbling away from a most Pyrrhic victory. If you've had the misfortune to dine on what the national chains call a "sub," you're probably expecting something much more manageable and less filling. This is a hungry person's sandwich. Don't worry, you can take half back home with you. Most do.
That Cuban's a sight. Thing of beauty, let me tell you. I have to wonder if the folks who complain about the meat quality got theirs pressed, and if they let it sit a while after pressing, or if they tore right in. Heat and pressing release the juices and wake up the flavor, and letting it sit a bit lets all those flavors mingle. When I bit into my last one, the salami had a nice sharp edge, the ham was smooth and warm behind it, and that classic Cuban pork was right there under it with a faint clove-and-pepper note. They survive rides home beautifully, and if you call and have 'em made it advance, they'll be sitting there, mingling ahead of time...and you'll dodge all that prep wait. Just a suggestion.
Of course, if you just show up and you're looking for something to tide you over while they prep your sandwich, let me heartily recommend the quesito, or the guava pastry. Yeah, their cupcakes are great, their brownies divine, but come on, you're going Cuban here, right? You want a nice strong cafe con leche and a quesito or a guava pastry...or both in one. The guava cheese pastry is delightful stuff.
They'll put lettuce and tomatoes on your Cuban if you ask for 'em, but come on, show a little respect for that sandwich. It doesn't need watery produce. You can ride with tradition and ask for mustard-no-mayo, but the stock configuration, with a nice, clean house mayo, works really nicely, and lets the meat speak for itself. Your call; white or yellow paint on that Cuban, it's still a winner.
You might want to try the medianoche, too -- their Cuban's goods reframed upon soft, chewy sweet egg bread. Nice change from the crackly-pressed Cuban bread. The steak sandwich is another real winner. Simple, clean and classic, this is chopped steak tenderized in a rich garlic and sour orange mojo with Swiss cheese on Cuban bread. Press it, let the heat wake it up, and let it sit a few, then dig in. If you like scachatta -- bakery sheet pizza -- they make a nice one, too.
If you want table service and a less-than-harried queue, look elsewhere. You want carb heaven plus killer sandwiches, though, just put on your best patient smile, brace for the bakery counter experience, and enjoy the heck out of your goodies, whether there or back home. This is one heck of a bakery. read more