![]() ![]() ![]() Do real Cubans sit down to corn chowder as rich and creamy as this one? Probably not, but we eat every drop. Most of the other dishes on the menu have a similar fantasy quality. The lobster in this case is perfectly cooked and though I wouldn’t want every lobster to have to undergo this treatment, eaten here it tastes pretty good. It arrives on a huge blue platter decorated with banana leaves. But if you’ve been fantasizing about white sand and azure seas, this is the dish for you. Many of these dishes seem rooted not in reality, but in some imaginary land.ĭoes anybody in the real world actually eat langosta borracha- a whole lobster, broiled in garlic and lemon, then flamed with Bacardi 151 rum? Probably not. The food here is a throwback, the sort of stuff that someone dreaming of life on a lazy tropical isle might conjure up. If you’re not feeling adventurous, there’s always a Pina Colada.Įl Mocambo calls itself Cuban, but it is the Cuba of tourists in those days before the revolution brought the good times for foreigners skidding to a stop. Avoid the Mangorita (fresh mango, Mohala liqueur, tequila, lemon and lime do not shake themselves into a wonderful frenzy), and opt for Guanatanamo Bay (three kinds of rum, Frangelico, pineapple, mango, lemon and lime juices) or the turquoise Blue Beguine (you probably don’t want to know what’s in it). So go ahead-the drinks really are delicious. Half the diners look as if they were on their way to a costume party, and by the time you’ve finished a Babaloo-loo-loo (three kinds of rum, pineapple, orange and cranberry juices) or a Desi Arnaz (a martini made with banana Schnapps) you’ll probably feel as if the party’s for you. The waiters slink around in rumba costumes and the hostess wears an impossibly tight dress. It’s filled with all the innocent fantasy of a child’s birthday party: Fake tropical trees, theatrical lighting, tables topped with ceramic leopards lounging next to wooden maracas (which shake salt and pepper all over the table when you pick them up). The entire cake is on fire.Įl Mocambo would be a perfect place to celebrate a birthday. ![]() And just then we see-there are no candles. “How many candles are on that cake?” someone at our table wonders as the singing reaches a crescendo and the cake is plunked in front of the birthday boy. ” they croon as the kitchen door opens and the cake, held high above our heads, soars toward the table in a blaze of flames. The waiters hitch up their ruffled sleeves and begin to sing: “Hap. The waiters gather around the table behind us. Open for lunch and dinner daily (Sunday brunch). ![]()
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