You learn a lot about a country by looking at the food people eat. In Cuba, I only saw tourists engaged in any “fine dining.” Even in this privately run restaurant in the South that catered mostly to tour groups, lobster and shrimp were easily available. But then in Miramar, a relatively upscale neighborhood of Havana, I was told in a small coffee shop frequented mostly by habaneros that there was no flan available one night because no eggs had arrived that day. A chicken sandwich? Nope, no chicken, either.