Saturday evening the family contingent - filling two Hondas - pulled into the garage at 7th and Collins and then walked across the street to Puerto Sagua. We found a table for six in the back and added a high chair for Gaby and put another chair at the end.
The Scull sisters' 3-D painting of Old Havana hung above us, Lucas sitting almost face-to-face with the woman with the face of Rodney Dangerfield. And, happily, with his back to the Mickey Mouse balloon. (This is a later addition to the painting that I find troubling: What does Disney have to do with Cuba?)
Our waitress handed us menus and said: "I'll be back in two hours."
She returned after a few minutes.
"Do you have macaroni and cheese for the kids?" Michael asked her.
"No," she said firmly. "Black beans and rice. It's good for them."
She left and immediately returned with a plate. Alex ate the rice but ignored the beans; Gaby decided that the beans were food and anything that was food was fine by him.
Shortly the table filled with plates of grilled grouper, fish in green sauce, fried plantains, more beans and rice. We washed it all down with a pitcher of sangria.
After our espressos we did a little dance past waiters and waitresses and tables filled with tourists and locals (their jackets and sweaters making the place seem even more crowded). Out on the street, as a perfect ending to the outing, a man dressed as a woman stood waiting at the light.
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