Bites of heaven by way of Havana

I have a pash for Cuban food. Some of my Cuban friends (yes, Americans have Cuban friends) joke that it reflects my guilt over the Bay of Pigs and the now - pathetic US embargo of that lively tropical island.

But even a lifelong Catholic like me can separate atonement and lunch. Black beans are my scene. A lime that gets a timely squeeze is sublime. Anyone who can fry plantains so they are as crisp as they are tender doesn't need a political context - or a plum-and-sky-blue 1959 roadster - to impress me.

I just love Cuba on my plate.