4115 Oechsli Ave, 897-1959
I get a feeling of Southern hospitality from the recently expanded (including a bar) Havana Rumba — in this case, way Southern. On my visits, the staff has always been friendly and familial, reminding me of Kentucky country places I’ve frequented for years. Even the menu is personable, pointing out owner-chef Fernando Martinez’s family favorites and explaining various ingredients that seem strange to Louisvillians.
But Cuban cuisine isn’t really that strange. It might possibly be the least threatening exotic food ever to grace American tables. Combining Spanish, African and Caribbean traditions, Cuban cooking is “down home,” with most items sauteed or slow-cooked over a low flame and invigorated with a few basic spices such as garlic, cumin, oregano and bay leaves. For example, I never knew that the Sloppy Joe my elementary school cafeteria dished up was actually created at Sloppy Joe’s Bar in Havana. Havana Rumba’s version features picadillo (seasoned ground beef, tomatoes and onions) on a soft bun — and astonishingly, it tastes much like a Manwich.
Many Rumba dishes have a base of sofrito, consisting of onion, green pepper, garlic, oregano and ground pepper quick-fried in olive oil. This includes the black beans that come as a side to many dishes — a smoky, rich, slightly soupy union of earthy black beans and the sofrito spices in a plentiful serving.
“Plenty” has been a hallmark of my many meals at Havana Rumba. Portions are huge and hearty, with massive main dishes flanked by filling sides such as fried plantains, rice and boiled yucca. Havana Rumba’s sides are so delicious that I could make a meal of them (and with the portions, probably should). The sweet-potato fries I sampled were perfectly done, with ultra-crisp outsides protecting a sweet, spicy and tender interior. I’ve also become attached to yucca root, which has a potato-like taste, but with a more interesting texture. Fried plantains (another of my favorites) have consistently captured me with their sweet, caramelized exteriors and creamy banana flavors.
The sangria ($19 per pitcher) was a nicely balanced bl/files/storyimages/of red wine and fruit juice, and the Mojitos ($6.75) were outstanding, showing off some bartender skills. The lime, mint and rum were well-proportioned, and the kicker was a swizzle stick of real sugar cane, which I enjoyed chewing for an additional sweet rush with my refreshing beverage. On the teetotaler side, I was impressed with the coconut milkshake ($3), a sinfully rich and thick drink dripping with sweet coconut flavor.
The tamale appetizers ($6) were divine, their cornmeal hulls filled with a mildly spiced pork that tasted equally good alone or with the accompanying oil, citrus and garlic mojo sauce. By contrast, my monstrous Havana Rumba Sandwich ($9) combined roasted pork, chorizo, and thin-sliced ham containing Serrano chiles. While certainly impressive in size, the fiesta of pork products all blended into what ended up as an uninteresting giant amalgam of meat.
Most entrees offered more complex flavor blends. The restaurant’s Ropa Vieja ($10) amazed me with shreds of meltingly soft beef skirt steak that were enhanced rather than overwhelmed by a sweet-and-peppery tomato sauce studded with peppers, onions and olives. And, devotee of the swine flesh that I am, I have to mention the Masas de Puerco ($11.25) — chunks of citrus-marinated pork, juicy inside and crackling outside, that put every Mexican restaurant’s carnitas to shame. I’ve also heard good things about Havana Rumba’s touch with seafood, particularly the grouper ($14). Rubbed with oil and garlic and excellently grilled to highlight freshness, it was described, when served with those down-home sides, as “like being served great beach barbecue.”
Havana Rumba combines charm, friendliness, flavor and “stuff-you-silly” portions into a place that makes diners feel welcome time and time again. Martinez and his family may come from somewhere outside of Dixie, but believe me, in spirit their restaurant is as Southern as any I’ve ever dined in.
