It’s no secret that I’m a fan of a good cuba libre. Or two. Or three. But despite it being my drink of choice, I never really thought much about the name of this basic cocktail until Fidel Castro died.
There was something about the festivities on the streets of Miami that felt wrong. Tasted sour. It’s a cuba libre, dammit - let’s reserve the sourness for pisco, whiskey and amaretto.