Cubano? CubanYES!!!

It’s come to me over the past couple of days that each of the three sandwiches we’re covering this month is basically a variation of the grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich.

And that’s a damn good sandwich

As good as a melty-ass ham-and-cheese sandwich can be (see Barros Jarpa), that doesn’t mean it couldn’t use a bit of enhancement. Sometimes gilding the lily works. And while the Croque-monsieur and the Croque-madame–which I’ve yet to cover but which have been addressed admirably by Crit already–are only modestly (and Frenchly) enhanced from their grilled-ham-and-cheese roots, the Cubano has been upgraded to near-unrecognizability. A larded Cuban bread roll. Moist, garlicky Pernil (a Puerto Rican-style roast pork shoulder) or Lechon Asado, the Cuban equivalent. Mustard and pickle. The whole thing pressed in the plancha, resulting in a crisp outer bread shell holding back a gushing steam-heated amalgam of meat, cheese, and condiments. When it’s done right, it’s among the best of sandwiches. When it’s done wrong, it’s still pretty great.

So I was relatively excited to write about what is a favorite of mine. So excited that, when I found myself at Skylark around dinnertime on the 1st of September and they had a Cubano on the menu, I couldn’t resist.

Dive bar lighting is not often conducive to food photography

Skylark’s version varies a bit from the norm, though. The bread is a standard Chicago-issue French roll, which is sometimes used in local Cuban sandwiches, much to the horror of any visiting Miamians I’m sure. The ham is thin-sliced Polish ham, and the roast pork is quite dark (as is the bar), no real issues there, or with the Swiss cheese or the good briny pickle slices. The main departure is that they use a cumin mayonnaise instead of yellow mustard.

Now, Skylark brings mustard to the table for you (or to the bar when you’re bellied up as I was), so I could have added some. But I ate the sandwich as is, to see what the chef was going for. While there does seem to be some debate online over whether mayo is an appropriate condiment for this sandwich, mustard is overwhelmingly favored from what I’ve seen, and for good reason. The Skylark version was good, but I think a Cuban needs that acidic, pungent mustard to cut through the multiple types of fatty pork.

In fact, the only main point of contention with Cuban sandwiches is between the typical Miami version and the possibly original Tampa version. The standard one you’ll see is the Miami, consisting of the familiar ham, roast pork, Swiss cheese, and pickles with mustard in Cuban bread. The Tampa version also contains Genoa salami, an artifact of the Italian immigrants working alongside the Cubans and other Latinos in that community. (The Tampa version also seems more likely to include mayo). Though this rendition not readily available in the Chicago area, I’ve tried them the Tampa way at home and can report that they are also quite good.

Yes, my plancha is a panini press.

As I work downtown, the Cuban sandwich I encounter most often is the one at the oft-mentioned Cafecito. Cafecito’s version is well-pressed (just look at that melty cheese!), with especially juicy roasted pork and again, a fairly simple Polish style ham. The pickles can be a bit sparse, but it’s one of the cheaper options for lunch in the Loop, if you can handle a bit of a wait–during the typical lunch rush there will be lines out the door.

I’m pretty sure that’s Swiss not mozzarella but look at that stretch

Northwest of the city’s downtown area is where the highest concentration of Cuban culture within the city of Chicago is located, mostly centered around the Logan Square neighborhood, but spilling into West Town as well, where Cuban restaurant Habana Libre has been serving a wide selection of Cuban appetizers, sandwiches, and entrees–among them a variety of empanadas and a delicious, crispy-skinned garlic-and-lemon fried chicken–for at least as long as I’ve been living here. I’ve tried and enjoyed their Cuban sandwich before, but it had been some time since I’d returned. I took a wet lunchtime ride there in the rain last week, dried myself off the best I could and warmed up with a cup of their cortadito, a sweetened espresso drink with milk, while my lunch was prepared.

Also my favorite at Cafecito. Cubans know coffee.

Habana Libre’s Cubano uses a sweeter style of ham, which strangely gives the pickles an almost pineapple-like flavor. The pork is flavorful but some of the shreds can be a bit dry and hard to chew. The lunch special version of the Cubano comes with Cuban-style rice and black beans, which I love, but makes a much bigger lunch than I’m able to put away these days normally.

I took one for the team this time and ate it all though.

Closer to Logan Square proper, you’ll find a cluster of Cuban cafes near the Milwaukee/Western/Armitage intersection. One of these, 90 Miles Cuban Cafe (named after the distance between the southern tip of Florida and Cuba), had been recommended to me by multiple friends, and so I headed there for lunch (on a much sunnier day than my Habana Libre trip) and enjoyed a Cubano in their outdoor seating area.

90 Miles’ Cubano is huge, with slices of pork that are much leaner than the shredded pork I’ve seen on many other Cuban sandwiches, and a more substantial type of ham slices. The net result is a less moist sandwich, though the flavor is very good.

It may not look it but the full sandwich must have been 10″ long

It’s served with plantain chips, which I didn’t realize when ordering, so I asked about sides. The waitress recommended Yuca fries, which are planks of deep-fried cassava that 90 Miles serves with their chimichurri, a less herby, more onion/garlicky version than I’ve had before.

These were great, especially with the chimichurri

Just north and a bit west of 90 Miles is one of Chicago’s original Cuban mainstays, Cafeteria Marianao. If you know me, one look at this place will tell you how excited I was to try it.

Tiny? No English? Filthy counter? Count me in!

It’s just the kind of place I like, a tiny little standalone lunch counter of stainless steel that could stand a little wiping down, not a word of English going on apart from what came out of my mouth. No tables, but a second counter against the window with a few stools. The ordering process is, you walk in and try to get somebody’s attention, then quickly tell them what you want. Eventually, somebody will put food and/or drink in front of you. At some point, preferably before you leave the building, you tell the guy at the cash register what you had and pay for it. I ordered a Cortadito to drink while I waited for my Cubano. It came in a tiny plastic shotglass, and was poured from a pitcher instead of being made fresh, but for 50 cents, you can’t beat the price.

Cortadito from Cafeteria Marianao

I’m not sure if my visit was atypical, but the Cubano I ordered spent a long time in the plancha. The bread was quite crisp by the time it came out, but not burnt at all. The interior varied between quite moist and a bit on the dry side. Though no mustard was visible from the outside, the moister portions had a stronger mustard flavor than the rest, so it must have been unevenly, even sparingly applied. The sandwich was good, but from the brisk traffic they were doing in steak sandwiches with cheese, onion, tomato, and hot sauce, I know what I’ll get on my next visit. All told, with the sandwich, the Cortadito, and a bottle of water, I got out of there for $6 and change. And of course the 8 mile round trip from my office on bicycle.

Cubano from Cafeteria Marianao

There are other Cuban places to try in the area, notably the highly recommended El Cubanito, which is about twice as far from my office and will have to wait for another day, but many more–Siboney, Tropi Cuba, El Riconcito, Señor Pan, and a good half-dozen others at least. I’ve eaten Cuban sandwiches nearly every day this month and I haven’t put a dent in what the city has to offer.

The greatest thing though is that while getting the sandwich exactly correct can be a pain in the ass–not too many of us have the flat sandwich presses or access to Cuban bread–getting it pretty close still results in an excellent sandwich. I bought some Turano French rolls, really cheap ham & Swiss cheese, heated some leftover shredded pork from my family’s annual Labor Day hog roast in some Goya brand Mojo Criollo marinade, put it all together with some generic sandwich-sliced pickles and Plochman’s yellow mustard, pressed it in my panini press, and bingo

Homemade Cubano

This was damn near as good as any of the sandwiches I’d had elsewhere, and better than many. The best part was, I could tailor the proportions to my liking. You think most places don’t use enough mustard and pickles? Load up on ’em. You like your bread super-crispy? Leave it in the press longer. You want to add giardiniera? Why didn’t I think of that! Go nuts! You can go fancy with the ingredients if you want to–but you don’t need to. Just make sure your pork isn’t too lean, and get that cheese nice and melty, and the rest will take care of itself.

Jim Behymer

I like sandwiches.

I like a lot of other things too but sandwiches are pretty great