glass cases at Italian bakeries stuffed with cream filled cannoli's just don't do it. Sure, a croissant, just the right amount of flaky and filling and buttery is a nice breakfast, but there's nothing in the history of the universe that has ever given the pastelito a run for it's money in my eyes. The glaze over the Italian confections makes me feel sick, I want nothing to do with an eclair, but I want the entire, I mean the entire, case of alfajores, empanadas, croquettas, pastelitos, sandwiches and more at the Versailles Bakery.
This underrated wing of the Versailles compound is the perfect place to come on a weekend morning or pop into while in heavy Calle Ocho traffic - what's another five minutes if you have an empanada for company (empanada obviously being the better choice of food for the car, because there's nothing worse than the pastelito mess).
Like the rest of the block, there's a real locals vibe that's yet to be tainted by the bus loads, literally, of tourists dropped off there everyday. You get the feeling that the girls behind the counter know the guys in cowboy hats with pimp cane's names because they camp out there every single day and plot how to take over the world, or at least Cuba post Castro.
Don't skip a fresh orange juice to accompany your cafe con leche oscuro and the delicacy, sure to come in at less than three bucks, of your choice.