06/26/2026
Every morning the sea decides, not us. Whatever the fishermen bring, that's the fish. No fixed species, no script, just trust in what the water gives.
Underneath it, fufu of Nam Wah banana, mashed by hand the way it's always been done, a technique carried over from Africa that never left Cuba. The pil pil is gentler, oil and the fish's own collagen brought together slowly until they hold, a technique carried over from Spain that became ours too. And the curry leaf, crisped on top, isn't Cuban at all. It just grows here in Florida, and somehow it ties the other two together.
This is what Cuban cuisine has always been about, roots carried over until they became one plate.
