Imagine my surprise when I moved to Wilton and found pieces of my heritage almost everywhere I looked. The “welcome wagon” lady, who was kind enough to pay us a visit, brought a basket of goodies, cards from local business, coupons, and magnets for our fridge. I needed a dentist for my daughter and one of the magnets happened to be for a pediatric dentist, so I made my appointment. At our first visit, as soon as I saw the dentist and heard her speak, I exclaimed, “Are you Cuban?” She was, and we proceeded to jab in Spanish for the next 15  , totally ignoring my daughter squirming in the chair.

I also received a recommendation for a pediatric practice where I was assigned to a wonderful, petite, blond doctor. I brought my daughter in for a sick visit. My mother, who was visiting, came with us, and during the appointment, I said something to her in Spanish. The doctor turned around and asked, “Are you Cuban? I’m Cuban!” Go figure. How many Cubans (or Americans of Cuban descent—happy, Mom?) move to Wilton and end up with a Cuban pediatrician and dentist?

My next discovery occurred during my first trip to Stop & Shop. There among the oranges, apples, and strawberries were platanos. Platanos or plantains are a type of banana, although unlike yellow bananas, they need to be cooked either when hard and green, or black and ripe. After peeling them, you cut them into half-inch pieces, fry them, remove them, flatten them, and then fry them again. They’re crunchy and delicious, but definitely not recommended by the National Heart Association. You can also wait until they are ripe and simply peel and fry them. These are called maduros or mature; they are sweeter to the taste but also quite good. I have memories of my grandmother standing over the stove making plantain chips. Tall as she was round, she always cooked with a dishtowel tucked in her dress. As the chips were done, she’d drop them into a colander lined with paper towels to absorb the grease. At that moment, I would swoop in, grab a hot handful and run.

Music and dancing are staples in Cuban households. Growing up, after family gatherings, the men would retire and the women would go into the kitchen to clean up. There, we would laugh, sing, and teach the younger generation how to dance. As a child, this was always my favorite time.

In my home today, we follow many Cuban traditions. To get rid of evil spirits we place a clear glass of water on a high spot and pray for the spirits to collect in the glass. After a few days, we throw the water out the front door. Caution, a non-Hispanic friend tried this once, but misunderstanding my instructions, threw the water and the glass out the front door. Water only, please. During warm weather, when you drive by my house, you can hear the sounds of Gloria Estefan, Buena Vista Social Club, and other Cuban music.

If you ever want a Cuban fix, just go to the market, and pick up some Goya tostones and croquettes de jamon (ham croquettes) in the frozen section. Grab yourself a can of black beans, a little rice, put Gloria on, and you are transformed to that beautiful tropical island I hope to visit some day. n