Atlantic City Weekly

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Atlantic City’s outpost of
 Cuba Libre — in Tropicana’s Havana-themed Quarter — completed an extensive reworking of its bill of fare earlier this summer. These changes reflect the personal experiences of chef/partner Guillermo Pernot during several extended visits to that long-forbidden Caribbean island.


Pernot, a James Beard award-winning Argentinean who also operates sister restaurants in Philadelphia, Washington DC and Orlando, says “My recent series of trips to Cuba reawakened my passion for sharing this culture with our guests,” adding, “We’re targeting all five senses with everything from beautiful photos to an expanded menu with more traditional and nuevo items.” 


As one of the first chefs in 50 years allowed to enter that country, Pernot demonstrates a sense of reverence for their cuisine coupled with a wealth of knowledge about the Cuban people and their unique place in history. Our meal commenced with mariquitas Cubanos, which are three exotic chips — plantain, yuca and malanga (taro root) — accompanied by six bowls of dips. The deep-fried, house-made crisps were bold and assertive. Plantain proved mildly sweet, while both the others maintained more of a savory profile. We instantly fell in love with a rum-smoked marlin salad dip, a species of fish one doesn’t often see locally. Our other rave was an unusual Haitian eggplant spread, smooth and luxurious, its seeds mimicking the appearance of caviar. 


Cuba Libre’s house take on guacamole, infused with chunks of golden pineapple, paired nicely with the plantain’s natural essence. Mushrooms, prepared in the vinegary Caribbean method called “escabeche,” along with black bean hummus and salsa, rounded out the half-dozen samplings.


Next up were a trio of “piquenos,” essentially Cuban tapas. These small tasting plates, each an entity into itself, arrived in unison. Our instant favorite was the frituros de malanga, purple taro root fritters seasoned with garlic and cilantro. These crunchy little bundles, about two bites each, exploded with steam when opened, a sure sign that the kitchen and wait staff are working well together to quickly expedite food. Paired with a thick tamarind ketchup — a tropical legume prominently featured in Worcestershire sauce — these fritters proved to be addictively good stuff.


Alongside, albondigas Camaguey were a duet of little Latino meatballs composed of a beef, pork and pine-nut blend. Glazed by a sweet-and-sour, soy-based “chino” blend these marbles of meat arrived looking shiny and pretty. They were plated atop a wonderful, spicy carrot/cilantro slaw.


The third sampler, camarones a la parrilla, brought shrimp, doused with a Cuban pesto and grilled until just opaque. The fresh seafood was accentuated by an bright arugula salad and more unusual chips, boniato (tropical sweet potato). Our dining partner went a more conventional route, opting for ensalada de los favoritos. This brought leafy watercress, an underutilized green, piled high atop a half an avocado. A sweet plantain salpicon (a chunky sauce) tossed throughout adding tang and texture. The salad was finished with a cumin-orange vinaigrette delicate enough to not overpower the tender ‘cress. All three of our entrees came from the “Clasicos” — as opposed to the “Nuevos” — side of their menu. First up was fricase de pollo, a casserole of boneless, paprika-doused chicken. Big pieces of poultry were liberally tossed with Manzanilla olives and raisins, adding two deeply contrasting tastes, which still played with one another nicely. More of that malanga — this time in the form of a rich, goat cheese fondue — served as the starch portion. Lechon asado, a slow roast of marinated pulled pork, was piled atop smashed yuca seasoned with Amarillo chiles and a black bean broth. A sour orange mojo brought its distinctive citrus and garlic nature to the party too, creating multiple layers of intense flavor. The most inspired offering of the entire night was the beefy vaca frita. Literally translated as “fried cow.” This classic dish is the product of a time-consuming process, explained by Pernot.


Flank steak is marinated, slowly braised then allowed to thoroughly cool overnight. Prior to serving, the tender meat gets shredded and seared in a hot pan until its exterior becomes crisp, and offering incredible pleasure to the palate. Perhaps the most startling characteristic, however, is the flavor imparted by this technique. One might think the flank cut, not inherently predisposed towards fat content, could deteriorate or become dried out. And you would be wrong. 


Once that outside crust was cut, the beef within remained juicy, fragrant and moist. Roasted onions and a citrus-garlic sauce finished the meat, accompanied by a side of authentic Cuban black beans and rice. One simply cannot visit Cuba Libre and skip dessert. 


As articulated by Pernot, “The entire Cuban economy runs on sugar.” We tried torta mentirita, a play on rum and coke where yellow cake was soaked by the house’s proprietary 15-year old rum. Accompanying was a maple syrup-thick coca cola reduction sauce and a dollop of zesty lime sorbet. Tocino del Cielo, a dome of firm, eggy flan, was plated with a lovely salad of seasonal berries. Closing out our meal, we listened to our server’s advice and tried cafe Cuba Libre, a healthier cousin of cappucino utilizing sweet, steamed coconut milk. Simply delicious.