on the plate under each language a long brown coil, paraquillo looking like a cigar and tasting of brown sugar, well-beaten eggs and flour. this is the sign, according to the traveler, of the spoon used it eat the towering cream. we used to eat these big ice creams in cuba, used lots of cream. most dominica patrons were male but a few foreign women venturing to the famous establishment in the company of men from the court. one of these women was my grandmother, merced moynihan. in la dominica, one of the best cafes in the world, located on oreilly street, where my grandparents met. ticket to ride, i talk about my family history but after they marry -- i am reading a little from the book -- my grandparents were at the center of many fascinating things. i found myself at el centro, the literary and musical gatherings. their house on calle mercades became a cultural cross roads with the traffic of foreigners created a new inspired geography. they travel everywhere. my grandmother, merced, nina played the piano and read poems, while edward read the poems besides playing the fiddle and violin