One-third through my first Coco Mojito, I became blind to the traffic zooming by on Route 3 East. It’s safe to say, that if I were capable of only three senses – taste, smell and sound - I might fancy myself somewhere in the Riviera Maya. But I wasn’t in Playa del Carmen or Tulum, or some sexy South American city. I was in Secaucus, NJ.
We pulled into the Mamajuana Cafe parking lot, adjacent to the Secaucus-Meadowlands Hilton Garden Inn. Somehow, I felt like an out-of-towner who didn’t know where the good restaurants were; a timid voice foreshadowed an Applebeesque experience. But suddenly, my nose detected a familiar scent that recalled Cuban pig roasts of summers past. Then, I knew there was hope.
Read all about Mamajuana on Devil Gourmet.