“You don’t go to Cuba to eat,” just about everybody had warned me. “There’s nothing… NOTHING!” admonished my friend Ruth, who gives food tours of Mexico.

Well, it turns out that’s not true. I’d been to Cuba 10 years ago, and my culinary memories were dim. As a food writer and restaurant critic, my recent return trip was an eye (and heart) opening experience.

Havana is the most beautiful city in Latin America, essentially untouched since the revolution of 1959. Its architecture was spared the dreadful disregard that builders of the late-20th century had for their fellow human beings.

Architectural gems abound in a dozen different styles, including Spanish colonial, elegant neo-classic, art deco and Vegas-style 1950s streamline. Some buildings are being renovated by foreign (mainly Spanish) investors; others are left to their slow disintegration.
    
Havana’s sights and the sounds are compelling. Classic cars are still around (some available as taxis) and hip-swaying music is heard everywhere. While, superficially, time seems to have stood still, this is just one aspect of the vibrant swinging metropolis. Cuba’s people live very much in the present—how else to endure the hardship daily life presents here.

The airy, outdoor restaurant El Aljibe is located in a section of town called Miramar.

I knew Cuban food from my early days in New York. My mother and I hung out at Victor’s Café on the upper West side, a haven for ex-pat Cubans and their fans. Aromas of garlic soup, roasted red peppers, spicy picadillo, flaky empanadas, fruity batidos and luscious baked flan were some of my earliest and most pleasurable food memories.
   
Cuban cuisine is a fusion of Spanish, African and Caribbean influences. Additions from a small Chinese community are found in certain dishes as well. Cooking is based on starchy tubers such as yucca, malanga, potato, plantain and the ubiquitous rice with black beans (when mixed together called moros y cristianos).

Sauces are simple: a sofrito of onion garlic and tomato is the flavor base of many Cuban dishes. The spices most discernable are cumin and cinnamon and condiments are achiote (annato) and bitter, or Seville orange. Hot chilies are rarely used.
    
Workers in Cuba earn the equivalent of about US $15 per month in Cuban pesos. With these, they are given libretas (ration books), allowing them small amounts of basic foodstuffs such as rice, oil, sugar and flour.

Other relatively inexpensive foods can be bought with one’s remaining pesos: beans, fruits, vegetables and meat (limited to pork or mutton of low quality). ‘Luxury’ items include chicken, fish, seafood, beef, alcohol, olive oil and cheese. These must be paid for with the CUCs (convertible pesos), which, in 2004, replaced the dollar as the currency used by all tourists or to buy luxuries.

When I asked a Cuban acquaintance why there are still two currencies he shrugged, responding with resignation, “That’s what everybody asks—it’s just the way it is.”

CUC’s are only earned by people in government jobs or in the informal economy – those serving foreigners or with family members abroad. Even a bottle of spring water at the bus station was priced $1.20 (CUC) and was not for sale in Cuban pesos. In effect, most people can’t have these things. The majority never eat a whole chicken or a plate of shrimp or lobster.

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Despite warnings about the old Soviet plane I would be herded onto for my trip, I chose Aviación de Cubana for its reasonable price, nonstop flight and good hours. My two-hour flight from Mexico City was uneventful and comfortable.

My hotel choice was a jackpot. ‘Ray’s Casa Particular’ is a vintage 1920s apartment with three guest rooms and two shared baths near Habana Vieja. It is filled from floor to ceiling with kitschy-campy knickknacks, is gay-friendly (although open to everyone) and more than comfortable. After unpacking my bag, I set out on my eating expedition.

My first stop was lunch at El Aljibe. This airy outdoor restaurant is located in the “nice” section of town called Miramar, a short ride from the center. I had the pollo asado Aljibe, a roasted bird served with a lightly thickened sour orange sauce.

It came with white rice and the best black beans in the world: thick and creamy while retaining their texture, fragrant with cumin, a touch of vinegar adding a tart undertone. Restaurants here are not as cheap as one might think but this is one of Havana’s bargains, approximately US $12 for all you can eat.

In 1995 the government initiated a program to allow paladares (privately owned small restaurants) to operate. Paladar is Spanish for palate or taste. People opened their dining rooms to the public, offering simple home-cooked food. Some have blossomed into full-fledged professional operations; others retain their home-kitchen ambience.