# 46 Hear Latin jazz & #83 Watch show at Arsht Center

This was a show I didn’t want to miss back in the spring.

Eddie Palmieri and his band – including sax, bongos and timbalis – headlined at the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts.

The show, dubbed Piano Latino, was part of the Jazz Roots series.

I was really curious to hear the debut of Alfredo Rodriguez, a 23-year-old virtuoso who was discovered by Quincy Jones and recently left Cuba. His music was interesting - a step beyond jazz into almost complete post-modern musical deconstruction. He even plucked the strings from the open piano.

Some of my favorite music at the concert ended up being Michel Camilo, a Dominican pianist and Grammy winner. His piano playing was so smooth, emotional and playful at the same time.

And I was glad I was up in the paraíso, near a big group of high school students on a field trip, I think. They ratcheted up the energy vibes from the music a few notches.

Yes, people danced in the aisles.

#50 Eat at Versailles & #55 Eat ropa vieja

Versailles is an institution on Calle Ocho - even if it feels kitschy and over the top with all the etched mirrors that line the walls.

Recent example: Gloria Estefan was here when she led the solidarity march in Miami for Las Damas de Blanco a few months ago. So I had to take my friend F. there on her recent visit.


And the food is good. I had the ropa vieja - another Cuban classic of shredded meat - with rice and beans and plantains. It was so tender.

There are a lot of stories of how ropa vieja - meaning old clothes - got its name. One reason is that the meat is so tender it can be shredded into a pile of rags.


A more romantic one: A very poor man has nothing to feed his family. So he grabs his old clothes, cooks them with his love and it becomes delicious meat stew. I like that one better.

#26 Meditate at la Ermita

La Ermita de la Caridad is the national shrine to the patroness of Cuba - Our Lady of Charity who appeared as a floating statue to three men at sea nearly 400 years ago.


The shrine itself is built to resemble a 90-foot Virgin, covered with a mantle and overlooking the sea.

People sit alongside Biscayne Bay and pray. The seawall looks toward Cuba, if not in reality at least in spirit. It is the wall of lament, the wall of hope for many exiles.

Some throw ofrendas - bright yellow sunflowers and coins - into the water. (I can't help but wonder what name they call la Ermita in Santería.) Many Cuban exiles want the site to be their last resting place. Some scatter the ashes of loved ones, despite the rules against the practice.


I sit and meditate. The water laps at the shore. The constant bay breeze rustles the palms. Our little boats get so easily lost at sea, I think.


Caridad.