The Home Of The Cuban Sandwich Isn't Where You Might Think

Names can be deceiving. "Koala bear" and "Spanish flu" are both examples of misnomers, as is Florida's culinary delicacy known as "swamp chicken" ... spoiler alert, it's not poultry. Speaking of the Sunshine State, it doesn't get enough credit for being home to the birthplace of a famous sandwich: the Cuban sandwich, or Cubano. While both Tampa and Miami duke it out for bragging rights as its rightful birthplace, Tampeños know the truth: the famous Cuban sandwich was born in Ybor City, a historic district slightly northeast of downtown Tampa's skyscrapers and the delta of the picturesque Hillsborough River. Miami, however, deserves credit for the Cuban's close cousin, the medianoche.

Today, Ybor City roars to life at nighttime, when its multiple nightclubs attract throngs of revelers from all over the Tampa Bay area. During the comparatively sleepy daytime, however, you really notice the small details: the chickens blithely ambling the sidewalk (city law gives them the right of way, and they abuse it egregiously to stop traffic on 7th Avenue), the cobblestone streets, and the majestic brick buildings that still bear the names of old cigar factories. These same cigar factories were the key to the Cuban sandwich's rise to prominence, as they were a popular lunch with Cuban immigrants who flocked to Tampa in the early 20th century to work there. The Cubano was heavily influenced by a Cuban deli sandwich called a "sandwich mixto," but the Ybor City variation really put this nosh on the map.

Where Miami and Tampa come to philosophical blows over the innards of a Cuban sandwich really comes down to salami. Tampa's sandwiches have it; Miami's do not. This is an important fact, because one generally does not riff on a proper Cubano in Tampa and live to tell about it. According to the Columbia Restaurant, which, at over 120 years old, is another Florida institution (it claims the title of the state's oldest restaurant), a Cuban sandwich simply does not contain mayo, lettuce, tomato, or turkey. Instead, "A true Tampa Cuban is layered from bottom to top: ham, roast pork, salami, Swiss cheese, pickles and mustard." The bread may be sourced from Ybor's La Segunda bakery, and the sandwich, once assembled, is pressed flat. A perfect Cuban is not an overstuffed Dagwood affair, but a trim handheld that packs immense flavor into a deceptively slim profile. This is not the time for a cream cheese-mayo swap.

Some philistines try to gild the lily and turn a Cuban into a haute creation with high-end ingredients like craft pickles or gourmet mustard. We are here to tell you that this is not the way. A true Tampa Cubano retains its working-class sensibilities and can be eaten quite comfortably during a sweaty Florida afternoon on the historic restored trolley that runs between the Channel District and the Ybor parking garage, with nothing but some bagged plantain chips and a cold can of (non-alcoholic) Iron Beer.