To My Boys: October 2, 2020
Good morning!
“Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.”
You are definitely too young to remember that song. It was from a very popular television sitcom called Cheers. I remember growing up in the 80s, watching that show on NBC, and laughing hysterically. I think what made the show so funny was the chemistry between the characters. It was so perfect that, when the bartender lovingly known as Coach passed away, they replaced him with another, much younger character that had many of the same characteristics.
One of my favorite parts of the show was when Norm Peterson, the overweight accountant, would storm into the bar every single night and everyone would scream his name together “Norm!” Then the bartender would say something like, “What’s shaking Mr. Peterson?” and Norm would respond, “Two butt cheeks and a couple of chins; now get me a beer.”
The premise of the show was that people went to this basement bar in Boston because it was a familiar place, a place where everyone knew their name, and they could enjoy good company and relax. Miami has such a place and, for the last few days, I’ve been thinking about it because I haven’t been there recently because of the pandemic. La Carreta on Bird Road and 87th Avenue is the Cuban version of Cheers.
What a place. The food is great, not expensive, and, every time you walk in, you run into people you know and people who know you. I can’t think of a single time I’ve been there and not run into family members, parishioners, or Belen folk. When you sit for a meal, get ready to get up several times to say hello to someone.
I remember when I was a kid growing up one of my fondest memories was the family tradition of going to La Carreta after Sunday morning mass at St. Timothy. My parents would load up the station wagon (the one with the wood panel sides) and drive us to the restaurant to have lunch. As we all sat down, usually in the very back where the noisier and larger groups were seated, we would each be handed a menu so we could survey the various options, even though we all knew my mother was ordering for us.
Our waitress was always Veronica who still works there. She would remember each one of our names and would give us a kiss on the forehead as my mother placed our order. Because we were such a large group, we could only afford to have sandwiches. Everything from the Sandwich Cubano to the Media Noche to the Croqueta Preparada and, even, the Elena Ruth (my grandmother’s favorite), were served lovingly to satisfy our hunger.
A typical exchange at the table involved my brother Eric, the eccentric of the family, who would ask my father to order something he knew he was never going to get. He would ask: “Papi, I want oysters,” or “Papi, today I am going to ask for the sesos de vaca.” My father would nod in agreement and then proceed to order my brother a sandwich.
Not to extend the nostalgia, but I can’t help think about all the nights as a Belen student that my friends and I closed down La Carreta. After every movie, party, ring ceremony mass, theater production, or sporting event, the whole group would end up at La Carreta having café con leche and tostadas or flan. Of course, it also goes without saying that every funeral crowd would inevitably make its way to La Carreta as well.
At the risk of being somewhat heretical, the place is somewhat sacred. It is hallowed ground because it brought and brings so many of us together. In a nutshell, it’s a Cuban Cheers. So, as restaurants begin to slowly open up, if you ever get hungry and it’s late at night, ask your parents to make their way to Westchester and walk through the glass doors of a Miami institution. It is a place where a lot of people will know your name, even with your mask on.
Auspice Maria
BELEN JESUIT PREPARATORY SCHOOL
500 SW 127th Avenue, Miami, FL 33184
phone: 305.223.8600 | fax: 305.227.2565 | email: webmaster@belenjesuit.org
500 SW 127th Avenue, Miami, FL 33184
phone: 305.223.8600 | fax: 305.227.2565 | email: webmaster@belenjesuit.org
Belen Jesuit Preparatory School was founded in 1854 in Havana, Cuba by Queen Isabel II of Spain. The task of educating students was assigned to the priests and brothers of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits), whose teaching tradition is synonymous with academic excellence and spiritual discipline. In 1961, the new political regime of Cuba confiscated the School property and expelled the Jesuit faculty. The School was re-established in Miami the same year, and over the next decade, continued to grow. Today, Belen Jesuit sits on a 30-acre site in western Dade County, only minutes away from downtown Miami.