Three years ago, I had their Mexican-style corn. It didn’t matter that it was neither caffeinated nor Cuban, I was moved in a culinary way.
Three years later, I had forgotten how it had tasted exactly, but instinctively I recalled that it was amazing. When my roommate wanted Cuban, we went. It was my first time since my visit three years ago with my mom. The hiatus had nothing to do with their food and everything to do with my laziness. The place was packed as always, in part due to its miniature size in part to the perpetual crowd for corn, corona, and Cuban pressed sandwiches.
That day, I had a bagel and two coffees. It was 6:00 PM and I was getting a little upset that the hostess walked by me three times without penning me in on her notepad. Food deprivation is a dangerous thing, but happily avoided when I plopped down at a table next to the door. Not really an enviable seat, but being fed knocked comfort off the priority lists easily. I had a party of two, so the wait was maybe 10-15 minutes, I overheard a table of 4 waiting for 35 minutes, so if you have multiple friends brace yourself and buy a beer.
Yep, it's tiny and crowded
It was smooth sailing from there as we waited for the Mexican Style Corn. The sweet plantains the table next to us had looked pretty appetizing too, but that could, again, be the fact that I had nothing but a glorified breakfast to last me nine hours. The corn came with the Cuban pressed sandwiches, which was coupled with some fries. The sandwich was an explosive mix of ham, roasted pork, cheese, and paprika. Being Asian, I had long been unable to appreciate cheese. Yet there I was, like a starved hobo, wolfing it down. The corn too had a interesting mix of their sauce, cheese, and chili powder. If hot and spicy isn’t for you, ask for it without, rest assured, it still tastes like one hell of a cob.
Is this Cuban? It's one hell of a cob!
Sandwich and fries
The espresso machine was unfortunately not working when it came time for my roommate and my every-five-hour-caffeine fix. But in terms of drinks I recall my mom enjoying her mojito very much. So much so that her Asian self became a little bit woozy. I, of course, do not partake in the drinking of alcohol with the exception of holidays and being in the company of one who possesses some form of identification (the legality of which I do not question).
The Mojito from our last visit
The bill added up to 17 dollars for the two of us, tip included. 17 dollars for two starving, overworked individuals who had only 1/4 of the calorie intake prior. Friends, in times of economic hardship, this is definitely a place to consider.
I must apologize for only mentioning two of their dishes, but I would recommend starting with them and branching out if you like the flavors.
This area gets very crowded late night.
Jessie
Rating: 
17 Prince St
New York, NY 10012
(212) 625-2001
