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Spanish American Food

Saturday afternoon the urge for a Cuban sandwich struck me and fortunately I knew there was a take out joint just two blocks from James's apartment. I got a little nervous when we placed our order and everyone in line behind us seemed to be getting their food in rapid succession. After the previous evening's torturous wait at Lupa, I started wondering if maybe we had become invisible or repulsive to waitstaff without even realizing it.

At least the wait allowed me to check out the menu on the wall. I was intrigued by the soup variations–there was a chicken, yet also an old hen and a beef in addition to a cow. Not to mention the feet soup. We eventually got our Cubanos, and though large, I managed to eat mine in no time while James stashed his away for later.

Luckily, his bird-like appetite benefited me. I'm staying at his place while he's away for the holidays and about two hours ago I was poking around the refrigerator for something tasty (it's too cold to go out and I don't feel like buying groceries anyway) when I spied that half Cubano. I debated over the ethics of eating someone's leftovers, but it wouldn't be any good by the time he got back anyway. My only regret is that there wasn't more left.

Spanish American Food 351 E. 13th, New York, NY

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