Will someone please, please, for the love of all that is good and decent in this country, please tell them to stop with the ads where Tony Curtis peddles dentures? Have you seen them? Not his dentures: the ads, which pop up on TV and in all their full page ghastliness in the paper like Michael Myers peering in your window. The guy’s what? 116 years old? He’s at an age when he ought to be allowed a little dignity. Instead, they’ve got him out there in this idiotic beret and smock, brush in hand, in front of a canvas. Imagine Monet as played by The Crypt Keeper. And he’s surrounded by the gaggle of bikini-clad Hollywood babes who, as you know, usually hang out with amateur oil painters, especially the ones old enough to be Helen Thomas’ granddad. Come on. We’ll buy the dentures. Better, we’ll contribute to a Give Tony Some Dignity in Retirement Fund. But enough with the ghoulish Gauguin and his denture spiel.
That taken care of: Have you had the Cuban sandwich at La Tropicana? Oh man. Aside from the cold turkey sandwich I’ll be putting together Christmas evening (the secret is using umeboshi pickled apricots), this may be the best thing between bread in St. Louis. La Tropicana, open for business but in the process of rehabbing the whole store as part of their 30th anniversary celebration, is sort of the FAO Schwarz of Latin American groceries. The place is crammed with everything from Tecate beer to Miami’s famous Iron Man cola. You can get masa harina, fresh yucca, dried chilies, and more kinds of beans than you thought existed. They’ve got Mexican candy, Brazilian wine, and packages of atole drink mixfor those moments when you’re just craving a cold aperitif that tastes like dried corn mixed with chalk.
In the back is a magical kitchen where they ladle out goodies like hand-wrapped tamales, meat-stuffed empandas, tasty tortas, and of course, those Cuban sandwiches… Parchment-thin slices of roast beef. Papery roast pork leaves. Ham shaved into glossy pink ribbons. Swiss cheese. Long slivers of sour dill pickle. All pressed together into a loaf of Latino love called Cuban bread. That bread is essential to a great Cuban sandwich. They’ve got it right here…crusty, drizzled with just a little butter and spiced with mild, sunflower-yellow mustard. The whole shebang is squeezed between the smoldering plates of a plancha, a grilling gizmothat gives the bread its crusty goodness and melts the cheese to a gooey wonderfulness. Eat it in the little dining area. Like Grandma’s cookies, and the back seat at a drive-in, a Cuban sandwich is best appreciated when it’s still warm. And one like those at Tropicana couldn’t be any more authentic if we had an embargo on them.—Harlow Garcia, Senior Editor, Hispanic Foods Desk
La Tropicana, 5001 Lindenwood Ave. (314) 353-7328.
