Ask a Cuban, any Cuban, if they know about a little place in Miami called Versailles, and they’ll say (and heavily gesticulate), “pues claro, mi hermano”—which is a friendly equivalent to “duh.” A Little Havana staple since 1971, the diner is an exile favorite, its neon road sign serving as a newcomer’s North Star, where salvation comes in the form of a croqueta, a cafecito, a palomilla, or a Ropa Vieja or a Vaca Frita with rice and frijoles. The kitsch palace interiors (think mirrors on mirrors and chandeliers à la Louis XIV) feel like an inside joke that only those who don’t get it remark upon. But if you really want to feel like a local, order the Montuno Cubano. —Carolina de Armas