The Origins of Havana’s Sloppy Joe

From the kitchens of Moorish Spain to a mahogany bar in 1920s Havana

Sep 02, 2026

It’s Tuesday night and my stomach is rumbling. The year is 1999 and I’m 12 years old. I’m taking a break from doing pre-teen activities to help mom throw dinner together. One of the first cooking assignments I received as a kid was to brown a pound or two of ground beef. There were always a few different directions that mom could go from this point. She could toss in some canned beans, tomato juice, and a few spices for some chili. Another popular option would be to reach into the arsenal of Ham-burger Helper and add whatever flavor packets and powdered cheeses accompanied that specific flavor pack. But not tonight. Tonight is sloppy joe’s night.

Words and recipe by Tony Mann.

We always made our own sloppy joe’s from scratch, the right way. None of the Manwich stuff you get from a can. No. We used the right ingredients: ketchup, yellow mustard, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, and some spices. I don’t even think there was an actual recipe. Just throw in whatever quantities looked right, taste, and adjust accordingly. I remember putting the mixture onto a couple of pieces of industrial white sandwich bread and devouring it. The sauce would soak into the bottom slice, making it difficult to pick up and eat like a real sandwich. So, most of the time, I ended up eating it with a fork. Pair this with some frozen tater tots or french fries and you were in for a helluva weeknight meal.

I turned 39 last week. Sloppy Joe’s rarely make it into my meal rotation. I guess my taste buds have matured, and so have my hobbies. I’m reading books now. For fun. During our last trip to the library I went looking for a specific title. I found it, flipped through the pages and decided it sounded incredibly boring. Something about politics. I just wasn’t feeling it. But, next to it I noticed a book called Havana: A Subtropical Delerium, by Mark Kurlansky. At this time in the US, Cuba is a topic that has been in the headlines quite a bit, so I decided to see what all the buzz is about.

Kurlansky does a deep dive into the history of Havana. From its founding and multiple relocations, to the styles of music that were birthed in the city. Apparently, the city was overrun and burned down multiple times by pirates and foreign adversaries looking to get a cut of Spain’s massive wealth of riches that flowed through Havana on their way back to Spain from the Americas. I learned about Fidel Castro’s obsession with ice cream. But, the topic that caught my attention the most was the golden era of the Havana bar scene during the 1920s and 30s.

In the US times were getting hard for thirsty Americans. For years there had been groups working to ban alcohol and their political power was finally beginning to manifest. The temperance movement wanted moderation or complete abstinence from the consumption of alcohol and, if we know anything about human behaviour, we know that they wouldn’t rest until everyone lived the way that they approved of. After gaining enough political support, the 18th Amendment was enacted in 1920, creating a nationwide ban on the manufacture, sale, and transport of alcoholic beverages. The party was over, or at least legally. But, there is also something else that we know about humans…where there’s a will, there is a way. Americans began looking for ways to skirt the system. Moonshiners, Speakeasies, organized crime. People were bound and determined to quench their thirst. For some, the way to get their fix was to turn to a little island just off the coast of Florida where taps were still flowing and the party was still going.

By the late 1920s American tourism to Havana had doubled. Americans looking for a good time began flocking to Cuba, earning it the title “Paris of the Caribbean”. It became a tropical playground where travelers could legally drink and gamble. Certain bars became quite popular during this time. El Floridita opened in 1817, but became the city’s leader in the cocktail renaissance during the 1920s. It’s famously known as the birthplace of the frozen Daiquiri and was later one of Ernest Hemingway’s favorite spots for a sugar-free version of the cocktail.

Another establishment that gained a lot of attention during this time was a place called Sloppy Joe’s. Sloppy Joe’s started out as a grocery store in Old Havana. In 1918, Jose Abeal Otero purchased the place and converted it into one of Havana’s most famous bars. At one point it had the longest bar in Latin America at about 59 feet, made of black mahogany. The exterior of the bar was surrounded by an arched portico, giving it that classic Havana architectural style. Many celebrities, including Frank Sinatra, John Wayne, and of course, Ernest Hemingway, were known to frequent this spot throughout its existence. But, the most important thing to come from that bar wasn’t a drink or a celebrity. It was a sandwich. But, the sandwich has a deeper origin story that is worth understanding.

“From North Africa, to the Moorish conquering of Spain, to the conquistador’s colonization of the new world, to the drunken vacation in Havana, to my 12 year-old dinner plate. This dish has come a long way.”

Spanish culture is woven into the fabric of the country, from its language to its food. One culinary tradition that traveled westward with the Spanish was Picadillo. Originating in Andalusia Spain and influenced by Moorish culinary traditions, the original dish consisted of finely minced or ground beef or pork, minced vegetables, and spices. The Moors crossed the Strait of Gibraltar from North Africa in 711AD, taking the Iberian Peninsula of Spain. Much of Spain lived under their rule up into the 1400s. So, obviously, many of their ingredients and cooking styles made their way into Spanish cuisine. The combination of savory and sweet components. Warming spices, such as cumin, cinnamon, and cloves. The use of minced or ground meats. All of these were native to North Africa and were incorporated into Spanish cooking even after the Reconquista in 1492.

1492 was also a famous date for another reason. It just happened to be the year that Columbus “sailed the ocean blue”. Picadillo was on its way to the New World. Just like the language, Picadillo has taken on its own personality in each new region. In Mexico, the dish contains potatoes, sometimes carrots and poblano peppers, and uses warm spices like cumin, chili powders, and Mexican oregano. The Filipino version, known as giniling, can include fish sauce, soy sauce, peas, and sometimes raisins. The Cuban version uses a sofrito of garlic, onions, maybe some bell pepper, then some cumin, bay leaf, tomato sauce, and is finished with green olives.

The bartenders at Sloppy Joe’s were slinging plenty of drinks, but they were also becoming famous for a sandwich of the same name. The Sloppy Joe’s sandwich was born.

Traditional Cuban-style picadillo served on an American-style hamburger bun. Alcohol deprived Americans seeking boozy refuge in a tropical playground, bringing back stories and appetites for their favorite cocktails and foods. It’s easy to see how this recipe was brought back to the US and then spread out through the country, swapping some ingredients for what was on hand and convenient at the time.

From North Africa, to the Moorish conquering of Spain, to the conquistador’s colonization of the new world, to the drunken vacation in Havana, to my 12 year-old dinner plate. This dish has come a long way.

“But, the most important thing to come from that bar wasn’t a drink or a celebrity. It was a sandwich.”

Traditional Sloppy Joe’s Picadillo Sandwich Recipe

Serves: 6 to 8; Prep Time: 15 minutes; Cook Time: 45 minutes

For this recipe, I used an ingredient list from the book Havana, by Mark Kurlansky. This set of instructions is said to come directly from Sloppy Joe’s in Havana Cuba. The list gave no quantities for the ingredients. So, I formulated my own version to try and stay as true to the original as possible. I based my recipe on two pounds of ground beef in order to feed my family, but feel free to scale it down to one pound if necessary. One last note about the recipe. The original instructions called for a “demi-glace sauce”. A demi-glace is a French sauce that takes around 12 to 13 hours to make. I knew that most people are not going this in-depth for sloppy joes. So, I added some of the flavors of demi-glace by including tomato paste, beef broth, and dry white wine. Much more home-cook friendly.

Ingredients

2 pounds ground beef
3 tbsp tomato paste
½ cup dry white wine
1 cup high-quality beef bone broth
1 can (15oz) tomato sauce
1 large yellow onion
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
2 ½ tsp ground cumin
1 tsp black pepper
2 tsp sea salt
½ cup castelvetrano olives, sliced
3 tbsp brine from the olives
2 Tbsp fresh lime juice (roughly 1 juicy lime)

Method

1. Brown the Beef: 10 mins.

In a large, heavy skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat, add the ground beef. Cook, breaking it up with a wooden spoon, until it is fully browned. Drain off most of the excess grease, leaving about 1 to 2 tablespoons in the pan to cook the aromatics. Turn the heat down to medium.

2. Build the Sofrito: 5 mins.

Push the meat to the outer edges of the pan to create an opening in the center. Toss in the diced onion, minced garlic, and bay leaves. Sauté everything in the middle until the onions are soft and translucent, then mix them completely into the beef.

3. Bloom the Spices & Tomato Paste: 3 mins.

Sprinkle the cumin, black pepper, and salt evenly over the meat. Add the tomato paste directly to the pan. Stir vigorously for 2 to 3 minutes, coating the beef. You want the tomato paste to darken to a deep brick-red color - this caramelization creates the base for our faux demi-glace flavor.

4. Deglaze & Simmer: 25 mins.

Pour in the white wine, using your spoon to scrape up all the delicious browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan. Let the wine simmer and reduce by half (about 2 minutes) to cook off the raw alcohol flavor.

Pour in the beef broth, olive brine, and tomato sauce. Stir well, turn the heat down to low, cover, and let it simmer for 15 to 20 minutes to meld the flavors and thicken into a rich, glossy sauce.

5. Finish: 2 mins.

Remove the lid and stir in the chopped green olives and fresh lime juice. Let it cook uncovered for another 2 minutes. Fish out and discard the bay leaves. Taste for seasoning, adding a splash more lime juice or salt if needed.

The Origins of Havana’s Sloppy Joe was written by Tony Mann. If you enjoyed his writing and you would like more, check out his site, oakandblade.com, where he writes about all things food. You can also reach him on Instagram @oak_and_blade.