Horrible, horrible news has come today. One of North Atlanta's most delicious and atmospheric restaurants, Havana, has suffered a seriously damaging fire. Apparently it will not be making a recovery. I have been going down there regularly since my homey Sean turned me on to the place in high school. As you can infer from the name, it was a Cuban restaurant. Their Cuban sandwich combo with the spicy black bean soup rocked my world every time. This summer, I would go there almost every week. The smells, the tastes, the whole feel of the place was the perfect remedy for my white-collar blues. Burn one and roll on down Buford Highway to get my exotic munch on. I wouldn't have survived my shitty internship without the place. Seriously, I'm starting to feel tears coming. My heart goes out to the workers and especially the owner, whose lament is conveyed in this article. R.I.P.