90 Miles Cuban Cafe

3101 N Clybourn Avenue
Chicago, IL 60618
(773) 248-2822

Now, THIS is what I am talkin' about! No, "Pan Cubano? What's that?" Or, "Drink this nasty stuff we call a milkshake." No, 90 Miles is the real deal and nearly everything about it is incredible.

It was a cold, drab and dreary late-Autumn day when I found myself on the way to 90 Miles. I hadn't gone grocery shopping and rather than do it, I decided to get some Cuban food. One Belmont bus ride later, I arrived at the small, but nicely designed restaurant. The murals reminded me of Florida, the walls are covered in Cuban newspaper clippings and the blackboard has everything you need to know about that yummy food that awaits you. Judging from my open mouth stare at the blackboard, the owner offered me a menu so as to concentrate on my order - and stop my drooling. He didn't need to offer. I knew what I wanted: a pan cubano and black beans. He asked if I was cold from being outside ("yes") and suggested some soup in lieu of the beans. At the point, his wife (and co-owner) said, "He wants beans! You gotta have beans on a day like this, right?" Since the onslaught on my senses had rendered me as open mouthed and immobile as Ralphie in the presence of a department store Santa Claus, I nodded and was directed to sit at the dining room counter (along with everyone else).

I retrieved my Coke, pulled out my stool and started to take it all in. CNN was on the tv, but all I could concentrate on were the great smells, refrains of Tito Puente-esque (yes, I know he's boricua) drumming, colorful menus and relaxed atmosphere. Lost in my reverie, I almost didn't notice that my food was in front of me. There it was: crispy white bread, ham, roasted pork, cheese, pickles and mustard, cut diagonally and pressed flat. And a cup of black beans. The sandwich tasted every bit as good as I remembered from my days in the Sunshine state. The black beans were full of flavor, thick and rich. I added some hot sauce to my beans for an extra kick. I only needed a couple of drops to make it perfect. As I finished my meal, I gave the thumbs up sign to the female owner, smiled, bussed my table and, trying to be suave whilst maintaining conversation with her, threw away the basket my food came in. At least I saved the silverware from a trashy fate. Just call me, "Grace."

I'll definitely be back. Next time, I am getting the lechon sandwich...and black beans. Come to 90 Miles and get the BEST Cuban food in Chicago, hands down. The decor is inviting, the music is great and the food is outstanding. I do have one caveat you should know before coming: be prepared to preserve and up your sexy. You do not want to roll in here with a baseball cap and your 'fat sweats.' "But, John William," you ask, "why not? I am coming here to get a serious grub on." Yes, you are. BUT the owners are both so strikingly attractive, you're going to want to look good as well - just to be in their presence. Not since Brangelina took over the tabloids, have we, as a society, been faced with such a great looking couple. Bronzed skin? Check. Jet black hair. Check. Great teeth? Check. Great attitudes, amazing food and gracious personality? Check, check, check. If we're stuck with 90 months of cold winter, there's no other place better than 90 Miles to bring some needed heat to the season.