Papu, to me, means "Grandpa".
Growing up in a Cuban household, you learn smells right away. The smells of different meats stewing all day long; onions and garlic cooking on a high flame, and smells of the spices wafting in the air.
Cuban music playing loudly and the older folks dancing as if they were young, once again.
You'd feel as if you stepped into another world if you saw the things I saw.
In Cuba, my Papu was always envied by cooking recipes handed down from generation to generation. Every Cuban, back then, knew Papu and his "Ropa Vieja"-a national dish in Cuba.
These recipes have been a family secret for decades until now. Papu decided that he wanted everyone to try what he could make, so he passed those recipes down to his daughter, grandson and granddaughter.
In honor of him, we decided to make Papu's Cuban Cafe. A simple place from a simple time.