By Michael Patrick, Ph.D.
A Cuban friend recommended Miami’s Puerto Sagua, and it made our Saturday night. Open since 1962 at Collins and 7th, it plates some of the most renown Cuban food in the city. We snagged an outside table, where we could spy the patrons while watching the area’s night crowd roll in.
The food was truly classic and phenomenal. I will never return to South Beach without dining there.
We had Ubered from 17th, but as evening fell, the cabs fled. Traffic crawled with expensive cruisers. Crowds lined all the sidewalks just to hang out and enjoy the parade. A mix of tourists and locals grew until we realized our only way home would be to navigate on foot the narrow human gauntlet.
A gang of bicyclers darted through the fancy car parade, popping wheelies. Thumping boom boxes were a fashion accessory. The cops set up intense lighting and special signs warning that loud music and narcotics were “arrestable”. Ha! wishful thinking, fellas.
The area transformed into one giant party. I’ve never witnessed such an endless swarm of ample fannies, unrestrained by string bikinis and fishnet, bouncing by my roast chicken, black beans, and plantains before. The bizzare entertainment made me chuckle. Here’s an early evening snapshot.