Maybe it's the Hemingway-ish grand-pa-pa busser with his thick shock of hair and moustache of moustaches. Or it could be the South Beach color scheme and the Flamenco dancer mural. Even the tiki hut bar with its bigass TV somehow hints at the exotic. Whatever it is, it might not be Downtown Havana, but it ain't boutique central, either. Mambo offers big rustic returns on simple, subtle Cuban cuisine.
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