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.