Sometimes a Hialeah joint needs to be reviewed, and considering no other place of note seems intent on doing it I’ll go ahead and take one for the team. Puerto Marino was like any variety show on Telemundo: Titties and singing.
Puerto Marino was like any variety show on Telemundo: Titties and singing.
I don’t like Hialeah, you all know that by now, but when all is said and done I’m still a spic. And sometimes spic things need to happen in order for me to maintain my minority citizenship. A few weeks ago it was my sister’s birthday. It was during the week which meant everyone outside her Facebook would forget all about it until the earliest possible weekend day where it’s expected she will be orally-fixated on a martini glass. That is, everyone but her coworkers. She’s got this one coworker, we’ll call her “Tits”, who wanted to put together a little actual-birthday-pre-birthday-party celebration at a Dominican karaoke bar they frequent. I was at my parents’ house with her at like 10 on a Thursday evening when she brought up going there. I believe my exact words were “there’s no way in hell I’m going to Hialeah right now.” But then I was told their chicharrones de pollo were amazing.
Let me explain to you what chicharrones de pollo are. They’re fried bits of chicken, usually (at least it feels that way) the unwanted odd portions of a chicken, and they’re seasoned to taste like a virgin’s lips. I don’t know the recipe, but if I had to guess I would assume one of the steps is “kill the chickens at the peak of their orgasms.”
So yeah, I went.
She’s dressed like she’s ready to do some shopping. Shopping for a man.
When I walk in I see Tits, a lady who has wanted to meet me for a while. She’s dressed like she’s ready to do some shopping. Shopping for a man. These people weren’t fucking around when they said it was karaoke. The thing is it was monopolized by three people. They were like the Hispanic equivalent to three Japanese businessmen; they loved them some Karaoke. When those three were finally conned into giving up the mic for a few moments my sister took the stage and brought the house down. She sings like a human version of Miss Plavalaguna, the blue chick from The Fifth Element.
My sister works at an orthodontist’s office and a lot of the people there were also from the office. That meant about 35% had braces. Also, there were a few other people having a birthday at around the same time. Late August and early September seem to be popular birthday times, it’s almost as if people love to bareback on Christmas.
…it’s almost as if people love to bareback on Christmas.
We had an order of a Dominican appetizer. Dominican food is one of the most unhealthy things a human being can put into their body. It makes one wonder how it is Dominicans live so long when they’re eating high-octane garbage. You see, for every half pound of fried cheese, fried sausage, fried chicken, fried plantain, and fried oil consumed it’s followed by 17 minutes of dancing. The appetizer was awesome and I had a bypass the next day. The service here, however, is utter crap. The lady passed by once every fortnight and actually SIGHED when my friend asked for water, then took a while to bring it. I read The Great Gatsby out loud twice before she showed up again. But the food, god damn, the food made me not burn the place down for her insolence.
If you’re OK with getting your spic on and want some bangin’ food, give it a try. The place is kinda loud though, but then again that’s a staple of Hialeah anyway.