The Most Perfectly Miami Things to do in Miami
By Eric Barton
Jan. 22, 2025
Back when I first moved to South Florida, I thought I had it all figured out. Cuban sandwiches from Versailles, breakfast at News Cafe – the whole tourist shebang. Two decades and countless ventanita coffees later, I've learned that the real Magic City hides in plain sight, far from the tourist traps of Lincoln Road.
So, forget what you've read in those glossy travel guides. This is my love letter to the legit Miami. From Little Havana to Wynwood, here's where you'll find the soul of the city – and trust me, it tastes a lot better than any watered-down mojito on Ocean Drive.
Gramps Getaway is a waterfront bar that’s so perfectly Miami. Perched in the Rickenbacker Marina, there’s stellar views of the downtown and Brickell skylines. Open-air, it has the vibe of a boozy Sunday even on weekdays, alongside legitimately good food. The Lazy Oyster window dishes out grilled oysters and lobster rolls, while the main menu offers elevated, recognizable dishes. Don't miss the burger – a simple-looking smash burger that's one of my favorites in Miami. The cocktails, like the Cucumber in Paradise and Gramps Mule, are perfect for sipping as you watch boats drift by.
If there's one thing Miami does better than anywhere else, it's elevate a humble sandwich to an art form. Sanguich De Miami, tucked away in Little Havana, is where Cuban sandwiches go to graduate cum laude. The Croqueta Preparada, basically a Cuban sandwich stuffed with a couple croquetas, is the kind of culinary Frankenstein's monster that shouldn't work but absolutely does – a brilliant fusion that would make your abuela both proud and slightly scandalized.
Joe's is to Miami what the Statue of Liberty is to New York – iconic, slightly intimidating, and worth every minute of the wait. Opened in 1913, this is the place that literally invented the idea of eating stone crabs, a semi-sustainable and entirely delicious crustacean. The claws are the undisputed stars of this menu, but a whole lot of locals come here simply for the burger, the incredibly cheap fried chicken plate and the Key lime pie.
For the price of exactly zero dollars, you can experience peak Miami along this walkway that spans the entire island. It's a parade of humanity that puts any reality show to shame – joggers in improbable athleisure, rollerbladers stuck in a 1990s time warp, and tourists trying to figure out which direction the beach is. For the full experience, rent a bike, head north from the scenic South Pointe Park (pictured above), passing the iconic Art Deco architecture, outdoor gyms on the sand, untold volleyball courts, unbelievably glitzy high rises, and end finally at a jetty that juts into the aquamarine ocean. Come for the people-watching, stay for the sunset that'll make your Instagram followers weep with envy.
There's a reason why suited lawyers and paint-splattered construction workers and, yes, even David Beckham rub elbows at Enriqueta's counter – it's where Miami fuels up. Their pan con bistec is the stuff of legends, a handheld miracle that'll make you question why you ever settled for a sad desk salad. The ventanita (walk-up window) is where you'll find me most mornings, elbowing my way through the crowd for a colada that could wake the dead.
At the tip of Key Biscayne lies a slice of old Florida that feels a world away from the chaos of the city. With its historic lighthouse and pristine beaches, it's the perfect escape when the bass from South Beach gets too much. Pack a picnic, rent a bike, or simply lounge on the beach – it's Miami at its most serene, which, admittedly, is still pretty lively by most standards.
Known as "El Mago" (The Magician), the owner here works culinary sorcery on the classic Cuban frita. It's a burger that would make any fast-food joint weep with inadequacy – a perfectly seasoned patty topped with shoestring potatoes on Cuban bread. One bite, and you'll understand why Miamians will brave I-95 traffic just for this sandwich.
Yeah, I know, every city has a brewery these days putting out great IPAs and filling barstools with beer snobs. But Casa La Rubia feels like Miami, with its open-air bar spilling out into a leafy courtyard. It can turn into a party on weekend nights or gameday, but largely this is a chill respite from the craziness that is Wynwood. After a merger in 2024 between Veza Sur and Wynwood Brewing, the brewery is now named for its signature brew, the La Rubia Blonde Ale, a beer I’ve enjoyed from baseball games to tie-ups at Nixon Beach Sandbar.
This French-inspired sandwich shop has saved my life more times than I care to admit after long nights of "research" in South Beach. Open until the wee hours, it's where the beautiful people come to sober up. The Tropical sandwich—loaded with avocado, doused in vinaigrette, and Best topped with nowhere-else veggies like cornichons—is a refreshing slap in the face when you need it most. There’s locations all over town, but I’m partial to the one closed to me in Wynwood, where there’s an outdoor counter that fills with every-type-of-person at lunchtime and an often hilarious assortment of the inebriated late-night.
I’d lived in South Florida for two decades before I finally made the trip to Knaus Berry Farm, figuring it was some touristy draw and couldn’t possibly be worth the trip far into the southern outreaches of the metro. We stood in line by the roadside, noticing how excited everybody else seemed to be. Then we got a cardboard box of cinnamon rolls, and carrying it back to the car, I could feel the heat passing through it. We put the box on the tailgate of my Kia, pulling apart the rolls and downright gushing over what we were eating. Soft and sweet and full of spice, these are the quintessential cinnamon buns. If you wept while eating one for the first time, nobody would think less of you.
If you find yourself standing at La Camaronera's counter, sauce dripping down your arms as you devour their famous pan con minuta, or snapper sandwich, congratulations – you've discovered one of Miami's worst-kept secrets. This family-run spot serves some of the freshest seafood in town, no white tablecloths required.
With locations scattered across Miami like pastelito crumbs, El Palacio de los Jugos is a riot of color, flavor, and barely controlled chaos. The Flagler Street outpost is the most quintessential of them, cafeteria-style and full of vendors selling every manor of Cuban dish, feeling very much like you’ve left the Continental U.S. Don't leave without trying their namesake juices – the mamey is a taste of the tropics that'll make you forget Starbucks ever existed. Fair warning: your first visit may require a Spanish-English dictionary and a willingness to point at what you want. But that's half the fun, isn't it?
