Three things you need to know about Miami sandwiches

I’ve been reading so much news lately that draws me in with a clickbait-y headline, only to let me down once I get to the meat of the story. My promise to you is that there will be no such let down with our clickbait-y title. The meat of this story will not disappoint, and neither will the bread it’s presented on. 

Before we get into it, a little housekeeping: It seems like some of you had last week’s email go to your “promotions” tab in Gmail. Not sure why since we have nothing to promote. In any case, if you enjoy seeing this with your more important emails, please select the option to move it to your “primary” inbox. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, forget I said anything. 

Okay, moving on.

As mentioned last week, we left the bitter cold of the Northeast and headed south to warmer sandwiches. Near the top of our 2025 hitlist is the Cubano from Sanguich de Miami, so I took the opportunity of being in South Florida to check it off. Surely it couldn’t live up to all of the hype (spoiler: it did).

I felt very prepared going in. I knew we would be ordering what many food enthusiasts have been calling “the world’s best Cubano.” And then I got to the menu.

After some deliberation, we ended up with a Cubano, a Pan Con Bistec (apparently another Miami classic), and a Lechón. And since we didn’t get the Croqueta sandwich, we just got a side order of those to wash it all down.

The overall experience was a whirlwind of bites followed by hyperbolic statements, and then more bites followed by more hyperbole. We went from praising the tender and super flavorful meat inside, to ooh-ing over the rich but not overpowering sauces, to then wondering at the delicious bread that was gently pressed and crusty but soft at the same time. Once we had fawned over every ingredient on each sandwich we moved to deciding which was the favorite. An impossible task in the end. 

I have only one complaint about the whole experience. After giving me a taste of their delicious Guava Brava hot sauce, I bought a bottle. But I forgot, in my post sandwich bliss, that you can’t carry hot sauce onto a plane. While it was being confiscated I encouraged the TSA agent to stick it in her pocket and take it home, but alas that’s against the rules and she would never do that, never…

¡Hasta luego!

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