Our friends were amazing hosts. Their condo on the beach has such a view. I could go on but in truth? Nothing I can say could match the beauty. The ocean was a perfect greenish blue. And clear. So clear. The sky was a perfect cloudless shade of blue that first day. Only later could I believe it’d be even more spectacular with a dark stormy sky. The contrast was remarkable.
Day one was spent poolside. We had an authentic Cuban lunch at Versailles in Little Havana – and the plantains were served with a mojo sauce that was so garlicky that it almost seemed unlikely I’d be happy to have had it. But oh, boy, was I happy. It was heaven.
We bought 2 boxes of Cuban pastries to hold us over in between meals. OMG. To die for.
Not to make you think that all I care about is food, but the dinner that night at Alta Mar was spectacular.
Day two. Slept in. Lunch at a French cafe in Coconut Grove. I can’t remember the name. The cafe au lait was great and I had a bowl of tropical fruit. Andrew had eggs benedict. We all shared a blueberry pancake stack that was more crepe than pancake. Delish. Service? Very French – in other words, they kind of ignored us. But that’s okay.
The guys went for a ride. Beth and I went shopping. I hate to shop. Particularly when I have something I really need. But we went from store to store looking and trying on dresses and suits. Beth was a trooper. (She did find a great pair of jeans, so that’s some consolation.) And I found a lovely dress in a tiny boutique off the beaten path.
Now that the “work” was done, it was time for the beach.
What else did you expect?
We read and talked and hung out for much longer than we expected. So dinner was late. We went to a place with a beautiful view and okay food. The mojitos were terrific, but they ran out of MINT. Now seriously, folks. This is Miami. Can you really run out of mint at the bar on a Saturday night? Like at 8:30 pm? Ludicrous!
Next morning? Slept in. Again. I know, this sounds monotonous, but it was everything but. I was in heaven.
Brunch out somewhere – I forgot the name. No matter. It was delicious. Then, guess what?
Back to the beach after a little exploration.
Dinner last night was phenomenal. We went to a small Italian place. I had a nice pasta with porcini mushrooms after we all shared some carpaccio. Andrew’s veal shank looked great, but it’s not my thing.
And sadly, this morning we packed up and left.
About 100 pounds heavier.
That’s not true. I didn’t gain an ounce. How could that be? Must have sweat it out (because I sure didn’t exercize it off!)
Most importantly, I had a revelation.
I was born to shop in Miami. As I looked around at the women (note I am not talking about the waifs on South Beach here but rather about the real women who live in the area), I realized I look like them. I have the badonkadonk of a Latina.
This isn’t a bad thing. I like it just fine. But it’s frustrating trying on clothes built for skinny white girls. (No offense to you skinny white girls who read this. You know who you are!)
So maybe I’ll go back to Miami next time I need something nice to wear. It’s like being home at last. Hey, maybe I have some Latin blood? Mom?