I went into town yesterday to help rechristen the Broadway season after the strike. I went to Mark Twain's Is He Dead?, and it was really cute. It was a farce, which isn't always my cup of tea, but Norbert Leo Butz Tim Gunn'd it and it was charming and funny in the exact way I'd hoped Curtains would be and wasn't at all.

I may have written before about my quest for the Cuban sandwich. I learned about it at the paper from a woman who was born in Cuba and it didn't sound very good to me--roast pork, ham, swiss cheese, pickles, mustard & mayo, toasted on a press--but one day when John Miras and I went to a Cuban/Chinese restaurant, I decided I wanted to try it. Yeah, I know, in retrospect, it's clear there can't be a good Cuban/Chinese restaurant (possible exception--if it's in either Cuba or China). It's not like the very common Mexican/Salvadoran places in Washington which are good. Let's say you can't conjoin cuisines that are separated by more than 3 other countries, let alone a continent and ocean, unless there has been an historical colonial relationship.

Where was I? Oh, yes, I asked for a Cuban sandwich and the not-Cuban waiter barked, "A Cuban sandwich!" like I' d asked for, I don't know, caviar poached in whale oil. Well, yesterday, I read about a Spanish restaurant a few blocks from me that Internet people raved about and that served Cubanos. I went there, and was offered a drink. I said, "I have to look at the menu, but I'm going to have a Cubano." "I'm sorry," said the waiter, "we're not making roast pork any more. The only sandwich we have is steak. The next time we print the menus, we're taking it off." I was pleasant on the outside, but now I was angry. This sandwich will not beat me.

So that evening I went to the play and on a whim, checked out the restaurants in Playbill. There was a Cuban restaurant a block away, which sounds good, but in general, restaurants around Times Square are disappointing and expensive. Nevertheless, I went there. Their Cubano was served with sweet potato fries, another rare treat, for $9. And when I got it? People, there was a hazy figure up near the ceiling, and I didn't get a good look at it, but it might well have been Jesus. The Cuban sandwich is well worth devoting the rest of your life to. There was a guy at the next table chatting me up. Well, in his way, because his Spanish accent was very thick, he was drunk, and kept saying "Being in Minnesota now, I feel like I am better man, you understand?" The music was very loud and the guy just kept repeating himself, but really, I just wanted to be alone with the sandwich, you know?