On the second day of June, I was celebrating the first day of Pride in (arguably) the gayest town in New England. I fully expected the streets to be flooded with glitter, but all I saw were gym bros gripping their girlfriends’ hands, taking up all of the sidewalk space as they marched two-by-two under rainbow flags.
Where were the homosexuals, you ask?
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In the hilly neighborhood of Sleepy Hollow, New York, you’ll never find parking, but you will absolutely find the freshest Cuban croquetas on this side of the Hudson River.
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Taking a Cuban on a tour of DC’s recognizable monuments and memorials? Pump up their ego by taking them to the Cuban American Friendship Urn. You’ll find it in Parking Lot A, under the overpass of 395, a mere blocks away from the Jefferson Memorial. Don’t worry, a real Cuban will not be deflated by its location, but may ask you to crop out the line of parked cars in the background.
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“What’s the corn dog one?”
It took me a few seconds to realize that my Anglo friend was referring to the picture of a croqueta.
Clearly, there’s a serious deficiency of ventanitas in Atlanta (and in L.A. for that matter) that pop out croquetas paired with cortaditos. That’s right, restaurants here do not have walk-up windows, which means there’s no such thing as having to elbow through a wall of viejos arguing about politics. That is a cultural experience exclusive to Miami…until now.
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The city of Temecula is a little under two hours away from LA, which is also the exact amount of time you’ll need to exhaust all of the culo jokes you can come up with.
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Among the very many things to do in Los Angeles is to drive down Carroll Avenue in the neighborhood of Echo Park.
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a little cuban goes a long way 