Under The Sun

Photo courtesy of Jose Munne

Jose Munne is a first-generation Cuban-American born and raised in Miami. After moving west and discovering the dearth of Cuban restaurants, he set out to learn to cook the dishes he grew up eating. In the process, he created the blog, Arroz y Frijoles, which he has been cultivating for more than three years. The recipes on the blog are a result of research, personal vision and practice, practice, practice.

By Jose Munne

Whenever I find myself in an environment that has high humidity and ambient temperatures in the 90s, I think to myself, “So this is what a wet oven feels like.” Naturally, my next thought is, “Where can I get myself a hot, syrupy beverage?” Well, in Miami, you are never more than a few minutes away from a refreshing cafecito. Yes, I said refreshing.

The perfect cup of Cuban cafecito (pronounced “ca-fay-see-toe” emphasis on the “see”) is not even really a cup; it’s more like 2 ounces. The coffee itself is syrupy, and the flavor is highly concentrated. It’s sweet to the point where you find yourself asking, “Can something be too sweet?” Then you find yourself answering, “No, it cannot.” Most importantly, a proper cafecito always has frothy, creamy “espumita” delicately resting at the top. A Cuban coffee without espumita is just an espresso with lots of sugar. Do you know how to say “boring” in Italian?

To make espumita, you take the first few drips of brew and mix vigorously with white sugar crystals until a thick, mousse-like foam is made. The process of creating espumita, literally translated to little suds, takes about as much time as it does for the rest of the coffee to brew. When it does, you pour it in with the espumita. Due to a process known only to me – because I just made it up – as gluco molecular suspension, the espumita will rise to the top. If you’ve got the magic touch, you pour out the coffee with a maraca-like jiggle and the espumita floats along. If you do not have the magic touch or have bad rhythm, you pour the coffee and then spoon the espumita on top.

Now that you understand how Cuban coffee is made, how do you order it? Typically, Cuban coffee comes one of four ways: cafecito, colada, cafe con leche and cortadito. A cafecito is a single portion that is served in a small cup known as a demitasse (this is French for “putting the ito in cafecito”), which contains 2 to 3 ounces. A “colada” is served in an 8 ounce Styrofoam cup and is proffered with 6 to 8 tiny plastic cups for sharing. You may also order a “cafe con leche,” a.k.a. “cafe latte with mucho sugar,” or a “cortadito,” which is a miniature version of the cafe con leche. As a guest in a Cuban home, you will always be offered a cafecito, and it is always rude to not accept. Although I’ve never tried, it’s probably also rude to ask for a colada in this scenario.

Now you understand what makes a good cafecito. You know how to order Cuban coffee in all its forms. “So tell me, author, how often do I drink it?” Excellent question!

• Just woke up and you’re feeling groggy? Cafecito.
• Had a five-course Cuban meal two hours ago and now you’re feeling lethargic? Cafecito.
• Catatonically staring at your computer screen in the afternoon? Cafecito.
• Overstressed with episodes of paranoia and angst? Cafecito.
• Sick of it all and not gonna take it anymore? Cafecito.

And let’s talk about the notion of Cuban coffee being refreshing. Coffee aficionados would balk at the thought of this, but I like to finish off my cafecito with a tall glass of ice water. Now that’s truly refreshing – at least according to me.

RELATED LINKS

• Check out Jose Munne’s blog Arroz y Frijoles