<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">The smaller Cuban Sandwich ($4.50) measures 8 inches long - more than enough for any meal. It consists of thick slices pork and ham, melted Swiss cheese, pickles, and mayonnaise between two slabs of Cuban bread. That bread makes the sandwiches divine, basically a French loaf that's made following a different baking procedure. Result: a thin, crisp crust on the outside with a lightly textured crumb within. While just about anything that might be tucked between slices of good bread gets my approval, the Cuban has especially zesty flavors, from the dill pickles to the pork.

"I wish this was around the corner from me," said a gleeful companion as she bit into her Salmon Sandwich ($6). The fresh salmon was ground and prepared like a tuna salad with onion, green peppers, and mayonnaise. Though the sandwich was light, the kitchen was heavy-handed with the onion, which did not bother me a bit but was too much for my companion.

There's not much more than sandwiches on the menu at Cuban Boy. I asked whether rice and beans were available; no luck. The only accompaniments sold are bags of potato chips (50 cents) and a variety of sodas, but no bottled water.

Fair enough. For three years, this formula has been working just fine. The kitchen does one thing, and does it well: Cuban Boy serves wonderful sandwiches, and that's why the customers keep coming back. . </font>

<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2"> The Cuban sandwich ($5.50), the restaurant's most popular selection, stacks tender and juicy pernil - fresh roasted pork - with a generous slice of ham, Swiss cheese, iceberg lettuce, sliced tomatoes and garlicky mayo on crusty Creole bread. It's then squashed and lightly toasted in a plancha (sandwich press). The Caribbean sandwich ($5.25) omits the ham. Chori Pan ($5) replaces the pork with chorizo.</font>

<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2"> On the other hand, we could each have eaten a plateful of hauntingly luscious sorullos de quesa (cheese-filled corn sticks, $3.25), like upscaled hush puppies, crusty outside, fragrant and moist within and oozing creamy golden cheese. The empanadillas, or half-moons ($1 each), were nearly as good: crusty pastry bursting with lightly spiced ground meat and onion.

I happen to love octopus, and Lozada's pulpo seafood salad ($6.75, a generous cupful) is delectable: too oily, but loaded with green olives, a bit of chopped celery and a sassy citrus finish. The camarones with garlic butter sauce ($18.50) were loaded with plump shrimp in a creamy-clear sauce studded with onions. A tender steak with onions, simmered in a jazzy, cumin-scented red sauce (bistec blanco con ceballos, about $10) was one hit. Only the marinated chicken breast ($7.50) was a disappointment: excellent flavor, courtesy of green olives and onions, but almost unchewably tough. </font>

<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2"> Steak's a specialty here, cut into a quarter-inch thickness, simmered in gentle seasonings, simply infused lightly with vinegar and scattered onion, and served with plantain (unsweet banana) chips and the optional garlic sauce ($8).

Or the tender steak is layered between two wide slices of fried plantain in the house specialty, a jibarito sandwich ($5, hold the mayo).The beef stew speaks the international language of slow-cooked yum ($7.50). Get it with the yellow rice.

We also picked the wrong evening to go. Get there on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night and there's an ethnic special waiting. We'll just have to try the goat stew ($9) and those pork ears (cuchifritos, $6.50) another time. But we did get two different versions of the mofongo, a "mashed, seasoned plantain ball" formed into a cup, cooked and filled with chicarrones ($9), shrimp ($6.50) or octopus ($14). </font>