Magical Miami | Tragic Comedy

I didn't know until I just visited there that Miami was nicknamed "the Magic City." That seems a little strange when another city in Florida is already associated with one kind of magic and another, but whatever.

I just spent the better part of a week in Miami for work travel. It was my first visit there since I was little, and we barely had time to see much of the city outside of work events (although I had a good view from my hotel room), but I'm still glad that i went.

I'll skip over the boring work stuff and focus on the next most important part, the food! We ate a total of five meals of Cuban food, if you count the lunch served during the conference. The first meal was at a low-key casual restaurant described on their menu as "abuelita-style," which is the first time I have heard that phrase not applied to my driving. I got the mahi mahi, which a coworker freaked out about upon mistaking it for dolphin. The second meal was guava BBQ chicken at the same restaurant, revisited when another coworker heard us raving about it. The third meal was an Elena Ruz sandwich, which is the comfort food that I didn't know I needed in my life until now. And the last was best: We went to Gloria Estefan's restaurant and I got some Cuban risotto, accurately described in that article, and enjoyed a live band playing fantastic Cuban music. What a great experience.

My Cuban coworker goes to Miami every few weekends to see family, and he loves the city. He's proud of his Cuban heritage, often sharing jokes about his people. I think I'll ask him to lunch at a Cuban restaurant in Bradenton to have some further guidance exploring the menu, because so far I can't get enough.

Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Neighborhood Botch

I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back. But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. Go »

Eulogy for Two or Possibly Three Restaurants

Dining in Sarasota at 10:30pm on a Friday night is not the easiest proposition. I took my friends Miah and Ines downtown to the only non-franchise I knew would still be open, an upscale sports-themed bar & grill called Patrick's. I've had fifteen or so great meals there, but not last night. Go »

Crash

There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. Go »

Powerless

Going without electricity in Florida can be a miserable affair. You sweat non-stop. You sleep fitfully at best, waking up in pools of your own body fluid. Go »

Not to Be Confused with Denise Sawicki

It's been two months since I first mentioned my new love Denise on the site. She's overdue for a proper introduction, since I plan to continue mentioning her on a first-name basis around here. (I don't know why some men continue to tell me about their woman by calling her "my wife" or "my girlfriend" even though I've known her and socialized with her for years.) Go »