Havana Mania UPDATE - Redondo Beach

Hubby loves a good sandwich, and their Cubano is one of the better comforts you can Doordash. Lots of roast pork stuffed into a crusty roll, covered in a melted slice of Swiss, dressed with something significantly garlic. A side salad hits the spot and breaks up the big porky bites. 

Lechon Asado is the stuff in the cubano with ok onions on top. The meat is tender, the beans are surprisingly savory, best when eaten in the same bite as the pork and rice. Sweet plantains? Say no more! Not as well caramelized as elsewhere but still my favorite side. 

Is this the South Bay's best Cuban food? Nope. But the sandwich is good, and I've heard it's quite a scene if you're looking for a festive place to sit and party on a weekend night. Will have to try a few other things and update. 

Cafe Cuba & Cakes - Hawthorne

So this is what Potato Balls are supposed to taste like. Still warm from the Doordasher’s car to my doorstep, these wonder-balls boast a super-crispy breaded crust which encases a firm layer of mashed potato, shielding a moist and well-seasoned ground beef core. Perfect spheres, packed with flavor, absolutely spectacular.

Sandwiches are another specialty here, especially the deceptively simple Cubano. It’s a layered ham and cheese, but the slices of roasted pork, smear of smooth mustard and interspersed bits of pickle give it a subtly elegant finish. 

The Bistec de Milanese features a very tender cutlet, but it seems less exciting as it comes across a bit blandly. More tang to the onion and pepper mix would have made all the difference.

Pan Con Lechon, what a luxury. A roll stuffed to the gills with roasted pork is so filling and full of comfort. The pork just has milder garlic notes, but the the tenderness and texture are so good I don’t mind it having less punch. That said, if you add a dash of whatever hot sauce you have at home, the result is bound to be better, 

I’m sad you can’t Doordash the desserts, but I’m quite happy with the sandwiches anyway. They’re a good size and a fair price, and despite being packed full of protein, they’re quite well-balanced. Would definitely eat these again. 

Vittles From Versailles – Manhattan Beach

I am the only person I know who hates surprises. I am the only person you know who hates surprises. You say it’s because I’m well-organized, composed, or methodical, but that’s because you’re kind and that’s why we’re friends. I am less kind to myself so let’s just be honest and say I’m too anal retentive to enjoy being surprised. Plus my inability to let go of pretty much anything makes it pretty hard to surprise me. I am planned-to-the-very-last-minute, more-rigid-than-the-royal-wedding, more-mapped-out-than-a-manuscript, more-organized-than-the-perfect-crime. 

Needless to say, I was neither expecting nor desiring any surprises when I went to Versailles. After all, what could possibly be surprising about a Cuban restaurant with the name of a famoso maison francais? And after savoring soft, warm bites of sticky-caramelized gooey-sweet plantains and a side of perfectly-flavored rice and beans, I was feeling pretty secure…until I bit into the Pollo Versailles. I knew the sauce garlic so I expected something smooth with a slight kick. What I got instead was a mojo criollo with sass. The sauce flows as smooth as water, but the garlicky vinegar hit me with all the wrath of a Tabasco-infused Warhead. My eyes watered while I tried to subtly choke…but seriously, how does one subtly choke? But after the initial shock wore off, I only wanted more. And more. And more. And more. Because it's brilliant. The sharp notes of garlic and acid add excitement to a mundane but perfectly-roasted chicken, and when eaten with the raw onions on top, the combination breathes new life into a hearty Cuban staple, though I think I would be breathing death if I were to breathe on anyone after eating that sauce.

If chicken excites you less, the Lechon Asado is the pork version of the pollo, and it really comes down to what you prefer. The comparatively gamier flavor of the soft shredded pork makes the sauce come as less of a shock, but give me the extra excitement any day. I liked it, but I’d pick the chicken every time.

I expect everything, and I’m surprised by nothing except Versailles. And like very few aspects of life, Versailles is slowly showing me that not all surprises should be avoided. I won’t be taking a shot at spontaneity anytime soon, but maybe one day I’ll go out on a limb and make a spur-of-the-moment decision…maybe when I stop shaking just thinking about it…

Comida Francaise at Chez Henri – Cambridge

I came to Chez Henri with no expectations, curious about just how a Cuban-infused Frenchman conducts himself. Does he smell of fresh baguette while he dances salsa? Does he add wine to his Cuba Libre (rum and coke)? Will the steak frites have habanero? Or will it be a menu of dueling cultures, a less bad version of Sibling Rivalry? Turns out, a miniscule bit of both.

The Ceviche Mixta was a fine fare, brought forth in martini glass within a vase. Yes, you heard me, martini glass within a vase. The ceviche itself was fresh and cold with a nice touch of mango and a tasty accompaniment of plantain chips. It was standard ceviche by all standards, but it served a higher purpose for me. Thanks to its bizarre presentation, I now know exactly what to do when I accidentally break the stem off one of my martini glasses after my b/f gets me flowers.

I usually steer clear of items like Chicken-Fried Quail, but I swear this was the sexiest quail I’ve ever had. Yes, quail can be sexy. I wouldn’t believe me either, but I tasted it. And it tasted sexy. I feared that the frying would mask the flavor of this seductive little gamebird, but it actually enhanced it. Like a well-tailored corset, the breading was a second skin (since the first was stripped off) and magnified the gamey-ness, giving the quail a dark, smoldering taste that conjures a dark-haired temptress from the Moulin Rouge.

The Steak Frites were the formal French fare you’d expect. Juicy steak, seared to the ne plus ultra of medium rare with crispy fries, frites by those who invented them. I’ve had far better, less mealy cuts of steak, but the bordelaise sauce was praise-worthy, and it hits the bullseye of cravings for French fare.

I tried the Criollo Bouillabaisse with great trepidation – any soupy seafood concoction will inevitably turn out to be either a fantastic feast or an utter disaster comparable only to the heinous proportions of fashion attained by the indescribably hideous Crocs. Fortunately, this was far better than Crocs. Not as thick as I’d like a stew to be, but full of fresh clams and mussels with a heaping helping of salmon and a white fish I can only guess was cod. A nicely fused dish, enhanced by a sprinkle of saffron and a kick of chipotle-garlic rouille.

The Chocolate Gateau dessert was Chez Henri’s number one endearing quality. As seductive as the quail, the long, dark, moist legs of chocolate cake interlaced with the best thick, buttery vanilla cream I’ve ever had in my life. It is rare for me to be seduced by a dessert, but for that one moment in time, it was enough to make me believe I no longer needed men.

So in the end, the “fusion” aspect of Chez Henri is, like the French, rather subtle. More understated that overstated, the bouillabaisse was probably the only item of true fusion. Aside from a sprinkle of saffron in a couple of entrees and the appearance of the classically Spanish ceviche, there is no real fusion in the food. Though the dishes were close enough to 4-star good, my disappointment in this establishment is slicing half a star off the top. Cuban cuisine opens myriad plumes of potential yet Chez Henri has not yet proven to be a capable multi-tasker. It seems that the food is mostly French and can only really be French or Cuban, not both. Though there is nothing truly reproachable about Chez Henri, and I could even see myself growing fond of it, I probably wouldn’t make the trek to Porter Square again. It’s far too far for far too few fusions.