El Pub

El Pub has held its corner of Calle Ocho since 1996, and the neighborhood has shifted considerably around it. What hasn't changed is its function: criollo (country) Cuban comfort food and a ventanita that has become one of the street's most recognizable fixtures. 

The vibe: El Pub is touristy, but it isn't a trap. The walls are covered in old Cuban magazine pages and photographs. Counter seating runs along the window, tables are quickly shuffled to accommodate large groups, and bolted-in diner stools with vinyl cushioning face the open kitchen and cases of pastelitos. Seating spills onto an open-air patio, and the location, directly beside Little Havana's visitors center, puts you in the middle of Calle Ocho's foot traffic. From my perch in El Pub’s lively outdoor patio, I counted several tour groups congregating outside, a gaggle of visiting women hopping out of a Tesla wrapped in a “Miami Shooting Tour” advertisement, and several large tables of tourists—with a sprinkle of locally-filled four-tops for good measure. At the restaurant’s entrance stands Calle Ocho's most photographed rooster. Live music pours out of the windows on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.

It sits at the higher end of Cuban dining in Little Havana, though it's still affordable by any American city's standards. The service is a separate issue. The staff is cordial and mostly Spanish-speaking, which is part of what makes El Pub feel like the real thing, though you'll have no trouble ordering in English. But the transience of the clientele shows in how the room is worked. On a Saturday at 2:30pm, with more empty tables than full ones, it took 30 minutes to be noticed for a glass of water and close to an hour to place a food order, despite repeated attempts to flag someone down. Different waiters drifted by without stopping. Larger tables fared noticeably better. Slow, unhurried service is one thing; going unattended until you physically wave someone over, and over, and over, is another. Come with low expectations. Leave satisfied.

The food: Start with the croquetas. The bacalao version is crispy and salty, with just enough fishiness to remind you what you're eating without going dense or limp. The gourmet ham croqueta is the lighter of the two: a buoyant ball, greaseless and delicate. The ropa vieja empanada, blistered and bubbled from the fryer, is the right introduction to the dish if you're not ready to commit to a full plate.

The sandwiches here aren't flat-pressed; they're buoyant and layered, which gives them a different texture from the compressed versions you'll find elsewhere on the street. The vaca frita comes in thick, meaty chunks rather than thin, crispy shreds, a little chewy but well-seasoned and zesty. It was a deliciously flavorful dish, but if you’re expecting the crunchy texture of a traditional vaca frita, you may be disappointed. Every piece of yucca on my plate was moist and properly boiled. The frijoles arrive in a thin, brothy liquid with small chopped onions scattered on top, the kind that tastes as if it came off someone's abuela's stove. I was genuinely impressed and debated requesting a bowl to take home. 

The drink: The mojito is a Calle Ocho institution, and El Pub's version gets the job done. Their alcohol free options hit the spot on a hot day. I tried the mango mint refresher, finished with a chamoy rim that keeps the sweetness in check. Individual beer bottles come in buckets of ice, and happy hour makes the patio a reasonable place to settle in.

Time Out tip: El Pub sits next to the Little Havana visitors center and is a stop on several Calle Ocho tour routes. If you're picking up a guide or hopping a bus, El Pub’s iconic ventanita is a logical first stop for a croqueta and a coffee before the walk. During happy hour (Tuesday to Friday), their $6 cocktails are a steal.