A Taste of Cuba . . . in Florida

The restaurant's name is a cultural statement -- it's an acronym for "young upscale Cuban Americans" and a spin on yucca (pronounced joo-ka), a tropical root vegetable sometimes called cassava (the disfigured yam alluded to earlier) that serves as a base ingredient in Cuban cuisine, much as the potato is in American dishes. Though bland in its most basic boiled form, the vegetable holds enormous possibilities -- it can be fried, mashed, covered in garlicky mojo or cooked dozens of other ways.

Yucca, plantains, avocado, mango -- the luscious jewels of the tropics are all sold at Los Pinareños Fruteria, an airy little produce and flower market on Calle Ocho operated by Angel and Guillamina Hernandez, Cuban immigrants who met in Miami, and their adult son, Angel Jr. Tucked into a corner of the store is a table with a few chairs, where you can enjoy a drink from the natural juice bar or sample what Guillamina has made for the day's lunch.

Angel Jr. switches from English to Spanish without missing a beat. Cuba is but a dream to him, an island conjured from photographic images and the stories his parents have told him.

"This is where I'm going when he's out of there," Angel Jr. said, pointing at a picture of a seaside resort with palm trees and bikini-clad women. "He," of course, meant Fidel Castro. Tapping a finger on a smiling bathing beauty, he said, "They're waiting for me."

The painful reality is, however, that much of what was so beautiful in Cuba has deteriorated. Few exiles I spoke to expressed a desire to return to their native land.

Cuban culture is harder to find in Key West now than it was at the end of the 19th century, when the Cuban cigar industry prospered there. The island has become such a heterogeneous place, filled with tourists and military types, gay men and women, Caribs and aging hippies. But Cuban culture is there if you look for it, particularly Cuban cafes and restaurants, the best of which are off Duval Street, the main drag that connects the Gulf of Mexico with the Atlantic in one mile of bars, restaurants and shops.

There is a handful of Cuban mix delis across the island -- "mix" because they put lettuce, tomato and mayo on their Cuban sandwiches. Many of these offer Cuban coffee, a potent and frothy brown java often served in espresso cups, which can be purchased at walk-up windows. It's common to see yellow coolers of water on the counters, either for clearing the palate before taking coffee or for easing the aftershock.

El Siboney is the best spot for authentic and delicious Cuban cuisine. Housed in a modest brick building, this, too, is no-fuss, with flatware in paper packets and plexiglass tabletops, but the food has drawn the likes of Cuban American entertainer Gloria Estefan. Three generations of Martin men -- grandfather Francisco, father Frank and son Frankie Jr. -- serve up long, flavorful strips of steak that fall off the edge of the plate and sweet roasted plantains decadent enough to be dessert. Frank arrives at the restaurant at 5 a.m. to begin cooking the marinated meats. It takes four hours to roast the most succulent pork I've ever tasted.

Hearty bean soups are the specialty at B's Restaurant, another hole-in-the-wall frequented by island residents, especially hungry Navy types. It's a no-frills place with a handful of tables and a lunch counter, but what the restaurant lacks in decor the staff makes up for in warmth and welcome.

Though the restaurant was sold last year, the Cubria family still runs the eatery, as it has for 23 years. "The tradition hasn't changed," said Bertha Cubria, an outgoing, middle-aged woman who inherited her mother's fortitude and name. "I know what everyone eats, drinks, likes."

A waitress sets down food for a group of men in the back of the restaurant. I don't know what they ordered, but it earned the kind of satisfactory groans usually reserved for Mother's cooking, tasted after a long sojourn from home.

Nicole Cotroneo last wrote for Travel about Riverhead, on Long Island.