There are two things that proliferated the Italian/American Mafia. The first was prohibition. The second, Havana. Before Vegas. Before unions. Before Growing Up Gotti, Mob Wives, and Sammy Gravano as a Youtube influencer, there was Havana.
By 1931 Charles Luciano, nickname Lucky, had been tacitly manipulating New York’s Italian gangs into cohesive crime families under the umbrella of what he called, “This Thing Of Ours”, or “La Cosa Nostra.” Playing the long game he didn’t immediately place himself at the head of this organization, preferring to orchestrate from the shadows. That is, until Vito Genovese began challenging his authority, claiming himself head of Luciano’s crime family. Genovese was also ruffling feathers by encroaching into the other family’s rackets.
This whole time Luciano alongside his buddy Bugsy Seigal and a Polish Jew they’d become acquainted with by the name of Meyer Lansky had been growing their operations in gambling, extortion, and bootlegging. You see, Meyer Lansky had an almost savant level understanding of numbers and bookmaking. Bugsy was a consummate tough guy and Lucky had the connections.
With Genovese continuing to upset the balance of power and cash flow the stage was set for Lucky and Lansky to make their move. Thus, Luciano called a summit. The biggest names in the mob would all be present. Albert Anastasia, Santo Trafficante Jr., Frank Costello, and … Vito Genovese. I suspect Luciano knew that if he simply took Genovese out that would only perpetuate the power struggle with unnecessary violence. Believe it or not, Lucky wasn’t keen on wacking his own. So, it came to a vote.
In the winter of 1946, just before Christmas, Lucky Luciano proposed a measure to organize the crime syndicate into five families. The heads of each of these families would make up the “Commision”. Each family would be made up of a boss, an underboss, and consigliere. Followed by capos, soldiers, and associates. He motioned that he himself should head up the Commision. Anastasia seconded the notion. Then Costello. Soon, fearing retribution, Genovese had no choice but to relinquish his aspirations and follow suit. In doing this Lucky Luciano avoided a bloody mafia war and became “Capo de Tutti Capi” - “Boss of All Bosses.
A version of the meeting was dramatized by Francis Ford Coppola in his masterpiece film The Godfather II, where it culminates in the frenzy of revolution and Fredo famously broke Michael’s heart. In reality, this gathering has come to be known as the Havana Conference and it was hosted in Cuba at the infamous Hotel Nacional.
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Tony and this is Pod Tiki. Wherein today we’re covering a cocktail named for this historic hotel, the Hotel Nacional Special.
When Faith and I went to Havana we spent a lot of time taking in cafes and architecture, visiting Hemingway shrines and tobacco fields, eating wonderful food in spectacular places, lounging on the beach or the balcony, and of course, imbibing in Cuban rum and cigars and music and dancing. Though, as anyone who’s done even a modest amount of travelling knows, you can rarely experience everything a place has to offer in 5 days. There’s always going to be those one or two things you wished you could’ve gotten to. Faith would have liked to attend more dance clubs and we both wanted to see the museum of art, but ran out of time. However, for me, it was Hotel Nacional. It was actually on our original itinerary but there was a U.S. travel advisory for the hotel, so we decided to skip it.
Looking back now I realize that may’ve been silly. It’s obviously perpetually under a travel advisory due to its misadventurous history. At the time, despite all the evidence to the contrary presented by friends who’d already been, we were a tad apprehensive already regarding a country who has hated us for so long. After spending time there I can relay personally that I never felt unsafe outside of normal travel precautions and furthermore the people and the culture were friendly and accepting. Oh! - Imagine the friends we could have across the planet if our governments would only keep it in their pants.
I don’t regret anything from that trip. Not even the argument Faith and I got into because I'm a stubborn selfish ass. I chalk that up to channeling my inner Hemingway. Yet, if I never get to return I might always fantasize about sitting in the gardens of Hotel Nacional having a cocktail and smoking a cigar where Lucky Luciano and Michael Corleone did.
Before we get to that drink, though. We should explore the history of the Hotel Nacional, including its importance in the rise and fall of not only the Italian-American Mafia, but the starcrossed relations between Cuba and Estados Unidos that have lasted over a century.
To tackle this we have to go way back to Spain being first to colonize most of the New World. Both Cuba and Florida were owned by Spain before Florida was sold to the United States and Cuba subsequently won its independence.
Cuba and what began as part of the Spanish Main, later the U.S. have had a tumultuous familial relationship since their inception. Like siblings who don’t get along at Thanksgiving. There had been rumblings of independence for some time when in 1898 the USS Maine exploded in Havana Harbor killing 266 Americans and prompting the United States to declare war on Spain. During U.S. occupation of Cuba our nations had formed strong bonds both culturally and economically. I.e., Americans love rum and cigars. We still do or you wouldn’t be listening to this podcast. By 1902 Cuba officially won its sovereignty. During this era the U.S. was laying the groundwork behind the scenes to later become a world power. We’re much like Lucky Luciano in this way. Thus, Estados Unidos seized this opportunity to weave itself into Cuban government and business. Much the way we did with Hawaii and the banana republics decades later.
20 years down the road, during prohibition, bibulous Americans with a penchant for debauchery and the means to travel began flocking to Havana as a sort of playground. While Las Vegas was still a trading post in the desert Havana became The place to go to party. I can’t underscore this enough. Casinos, brothels, fancy tropical hotels, and of course, bars bars and bars serving up all the delectable adult beverages one was used to, but couldn’t legally get back home, as well as these new rum drinks that were gaining popularity thanks to folks like Sloppy Joe’s. All of this was overseen by and predicated on two factions - politicians from Washington and Meyer Lansky. Furthermore, these two sides of the coin were not mutually exclusive. Cuban president Fulgencio Batista was in the pocket of the U.S. government who, at the time, was in the pocket of the Mafia’s Cuban affairs in the sense that the rapacious beast that was Havana tourism was fed by American dollars garnering the U.S. a great deal of political influence in Cuban politics.
By the early 1950’s one could hop a commuter flight from Miami to Havana, party for the weekend, and be back to work on Monday nary the worse for wear save a rum hangover and some sweaty clothes.
However, while Hemingway was throwing back some of Constantino’s famous daiquiris at La Floridita, Fidel Castro and Che Guevara were radicalizing towards independence once again. This time from American oversight. Since this is a cocktail podcast and not a Ken Burns documentary I’ll skip over some very culturally important details and simply state that Castro won, there was a whole thing with some pigs in a bay, Hemingway was forced to evacuate his home, which some believe eventually led to his suicide, JFK stocked up on his favorite Cuban cigars before initializing an embargo, the mob closed up shop and moved to Vegas, and Castro, forever holding a grudge against U.S. intervention, decided to slide into bed with the Soviet Union only to discover that the silk sheets in the brochure turned out to be an iron curtain.
There was another cultural aspect that hits home for me especially. If you visit Havana today or even Miami, you’ll notice a resemblance to Italian-American culture. See, the whole New Yorker retiring to Florida thing is not just a jovial stereotype. Tampa being a hub for cigar manufacturing drew a resounding amount of both Cuban immigrants and Italian. The Cubans had the tobacco knowledge, and the Italians … well, we had the food. As Italian and Cuban factory workers matriculated cultures swapped facets culminating in a unique brand of practices from that part of the world. For instance, the Cuban cafecito coffees we know from Miami are not how they serve it in Havana. There, it’s served up in decorative demitasse cups Italian style. Furthermore, there’s no such thing as a Cuban sandwich in Cuba. The Cubano is an amalgamation of Cuban roasted pork, on Italian bread, with American mustard and pickles. In fact, the Mafia ties even carried over to Tampa with Santo Trafficante as head of the Florida family. Nowadays, the remnants are shown in the Italian only cemetery where tall stone mausoleums still reflect a lot of vowel heavy names. The heart of Cuban culture in Florida moved on to Miami and the Italian migration became a steady flow of retirees setting out coffee and cake when the grandkids visit and playing bocce ball by the pool.
As a kid growing up in the 80’s and 90’s I caught the last remnants of Cold War propaganda thinking and was led to believe I would never see Havana. This sentiment being relaying in the Billy Joel song Rosalinda’s Eyes where the line goes, “Though I’ll never be there, I know what I would see there. I can always find my Cuban skies, in Rosalinda’s eyes.” Until 2018 when my wife and I were planning to go to Mexico on vacation and we found out Cuba was open for American travel. Under the Obama administration Cuban/American relations began to lax and finally see some headway towards conciliation. U.S. tourism money flooded in like so many cruise ships. The old squares of Havana were fixed up. Schools and parks were rebuilt. Heritage sights were able to be maintained once again and Cuban shelves were filled with food and medicine.
Then came Trump. Again, this isn’t a political podcast and I don’t really care about your views. I mean that in the nicest way possible. As in, when we walk into a Tiki bar it’s meant to be an escape from the vicissitudes of daily life and an entrance into a world of exotic tropicalia. That’s what I want this podcast to be. All I will say is that now things are closed off with Cuba and it saddens me because the people there and the people here and the people all across the world are way more similar than we are different and when a few powerful people try to cut us off from sharing in that human experience with others it makes me wonder why they want to keep us discordant. But, blood being thicker than the Florida Straits I don’t think we’ve seen the end of our relations with Cuba.
Let’s go back, though, to pre-revolution Havana and learn a little bit more about Hotel Nacional, which actually began its life as the National Hotel. The Americanized name is due to the fact that this was an American hotel. Remember, at this time the U.S. exercised an almost imperious presence in Havana. The hotel was designed by New York architectural firm McKim, Mead and White, and financed by the National City Bank of New York. The structure incorporates esoteric blends of styles from Spanish Sevillian, to Roman, and even Art Deco.
Nestled atop a hill in the Vedado district the National Hotel sits at the top of old Havana overlooking the historic harbor whose defences thwarted even the likes of Francis Drake and Henry Morgan. It stands as a monument to prestige and culture. Who’s culture is still up for debate.
The National Hotel opened for business in 1930 and was no stranger to controversy even before Lucky’s Havana Conference. Three years after opening its door the hotel was ground zero for what became known as The Battle of The Hotel Nacional de Cuba. Do you remember Fulgencio Batista, the American backed President of Cuba who was overthrown by Castro? Well, in September 1933 then Sergeant Batista, along with approximately 2,000 soldiers, marched up and surrounded the National Hotel where the Army Chief of Staff, Julio Sanguily Echarte, was convalescing from a stomach ulcer. Turns out Batista had declared himself the new Army Chief of Staff. Now, Batista’s standing army notwithstanding, Echarte did have the support of about 400 high ranking military officials who joined him at the hotel which had become their stronghold. A headquarters for the resistance.
Tensions were exacerbated by the fact that Sumner Welles, the United States Ambassador to Cuba, was also living in the hotel at the time. Knowing what we know now regarding how the U.S. would later ingratiate themselves within Batista’s regime I almost wonder if Welles being there was no coincidence. If not an agent provocateur himself I at least posit that he may have been observing and setting up schemes for down the road. Political landmines, if you will.
The fighting officially began in early October when it’s purported that the offending army shot first. But the Officials holed up inside were strategically placed on the high ground and with sufficient cover. Not to mention these were not some geeks off the street. They were handy with the steel, if you know what I mean. Seriously, these were wartime veterans, many having fought against Spain in Cuba’s War for Independence. Using the windows and angles on various floors of the hotel the officers exercised excellent marksmanship and critical positioning to their advantage. At the end of 11 hours of fighting Batista’s army registered 30 casualties while the officers suffered just 2. While officers in the hotel began getting reports of their homes being ransacked and their families being held captive, Batista positioned his Navy to bambard the hotel from the harbor. After 2 days of battle, low on ammunition and supplies, the officers in the hotel were forced to surrender. At least a dozen of them were subsequently executed at Batista’s orders.
Following the battle the National Hotel was closed until 1939 when it reopened as The Hotel Nacional de Cuba.
By the mid-1950’s Batista was president and making money and the U.S. government was making money and the mob was making money and Constantino was shaking up daiquiris and Papa Hemingway finally found the most peace he had ever known. A peace which would soon be broken. On the first of January 1959 Castro’s revolutionaries entered Havana to wrest power away from Batista in a military coup framed as liberating Cuba from a corrupt government now all but controlled by American interests.
The hotel’s status as a world heritage sight couldn’t keep it safe either. During the Cuban missile crisis anti-aircraft artillery was positioned about the grounds and a series of tunnels were built under the property. While under Soviet reign Castro closed the casino and blocked tourism to Havana, but after the USSR fell he reopened for tourism in the face of economic catastrophe. In 1997 the hotel was the sight of a terrorist bombing aimed at disrupting tourism once again.
Hotel Nacional de Cuba remains open today under the auspices of the Cuban communist government. A testament to the tired notion that we should be tentative of our heroes lest corruption beguiles even the best of intentions.
Amid all that turmoil the Hotel Nacional was a glistening ode towards opulence and indulgence in tropical beauty of all kinds. It was from this state of unbridled passion that emerged the Hotel Nacional Special.
How it emerged is another one of those controversies of cocktailia that we’re so familiar with in Tiki ancestry. 1939’s Gentleman's Companion by Charles H. Baker Jr. credits the drink to Wil P. Taylor. This checks out in the sense that Taylor was in fact manager of the Hotel Nacional between 1931 and 1933 when the drink is believed to be invented. In fact, Taylor was on duty during the great Battle. However, this claim is challenged by our old friend Eddie Woelke who appropriated ownership in his own book, The Barman’s Mentor, released in 1936.
We detailed Eddie’s story when we discussed another of his famous cocktails, El Presidente, in a previous episode. It’s a great story and I implore you to go back and check that one out if you haven’t already. One interesting part of his story relevant to this episode is that Eddie didn’t work at the hotel, but the Gran Casino Nacional, which was under the same ownership but only loosely affiliated. Though, affiliated enough it’s quite possible, and probable, that being under the same umbrella and having eponymous similarities that recipes very well could have been shared between the two entities.
Both Talyor and Woelke have legitimate liens on the cocktail and both Taylor and Woelke have legitimate arguments against them. In Woelke’s book he claims to have invented Cuban drinks that are on record before his time in Cuba. Also, he writes that he was the first person to strain a daiquiri and purports to be inventor of the Mary Pickford cocktail. The latter being disputed as created at another Havana hotel, the Sevilla-Biltmore, by one Fred Kuafman. Thing is, Kaufman was a friend of Eddie’s, worked at the Nacional at one point, and is, in fact, also credited as a possible inventor of the Hotel Nacional cocktail.
The controversy of Taylor’s claim is that the one who made it, Charles H. Baker Jr., was a friend of Taylor’s and was known to have credited friends of his with drinks they didn’t invent in other writings. Most egregiously the capital D Daiquiri itself! Which, if any one man can be held responsible for that delightful little demon, would be Canstanino Ribalgua Vert of La Floridita fame.
My personal opinion from the facts we have is that either Eddie Woelke, or Fred Kuafman, or both created the Hotel Nacional drink and Wil P. Taylor did what people in power do and took the credit for it. Each’s recipe is very similar. The only differences being Woelke used light rum while Taylor used gold and Woelke calls for Apricot Brandy and Taylor asks for Apricot Liqueur. From what I gather Woelke’s version is the most widely used. Not to mention it’s the one Jeff Berry printed in his cocktail bible, Potions of the Caribbean.
So, who wants to make a drink already?!
When it comes to these original Cuban cocktails nothing else holds a Che shaped candle to real Cuban rum. My all time favorite rum, hands down, no contest, sans pareil, is Havana Club 3 Años. This 3 year aged white rum is crisp and fruity with a full body patina of flavor and smooth texture. Maybe it’s the water or the local sugarcane varieties but something in that rum makes it different from any other expression I’ve tasted; and I’ve tasted a lot of rum. For research purposes, of course. It’s versatile in that it is great for sipping or blending in the drinks it was created alongside. I’m talking OG funkadelics like Daiquiris, Mojitos, El Presidente, Cuba Libre, and the Hotel Nacional.
I’m not saying it’s the best rum in every category, but it covers the spread so well in all of them that it ranks the highest in my book, followed by Havana Club 7 Años and Santiago de Cuba. (If you’re wondering, my favorite rum stateside is Diplomatico Reserva Exclusiva.)
All that to say, there is no substitute available in the U.S., at least not readily available or not cost prohibitive. So, what is a Tikimun to do in this year of our Lord 2025? We have a few options here. Jeff Berry recommends Plantarey 3 Star which I agree makes the best Daiquiri available and has pretty much been the industry standard since it came on the market, but doesn’t really taste like Cuban rum. The Jamaican component adds a tad too much funk. I see what he’s going for, though. If we were making Mojitos I would say go ahead and grab that light, crisp, fruity bottle of Bacardi or Don Q. That’s a bright, effervescent drink. But, in a Daiquiri or Daiquiri riff such as the Hotel Nacional, the flavor of rum is the crux. The base of the whole palate. Therefore, we want to use a light rum, keeping in tradition with the light Spanish style rums of the era, but with enough body and flavor to hold its own against sugar, lime, or whatever more myriad means modern mixology muses. Plantarey 3 Star does this swimmingly.
I also wanted to try this drink with a classic Spanish Style light rum. That is the fruitier more floral rums coming from the Latin Caribbean islands. I thought this would be a fun time to experiment with Havana Club Anejo Blanco. This Havana Club is made in Puerto Rico and claims to use the original Havana Club recipe from 1878 by original owner José Arechabala before Castro nationalized the brand. This Havana Club is produced by Bacardi and aged up to 1 ½ yrs before bottling. I’ve used it before and truly I find the Puerto Rican Havana Club, Bacardi Silver, and Don Q Cristal to all be quite similar. I’m just using the Havana Club this time for funsies. And yes, I know referring to two Havana Club brands is confusing, but it has to do with foreign copyright law and who acknowledges who’s rights and all that. Kinda like how China doesn’t recognize our Trademarks. This is how we get all that plastic garbage from Temu that sorta-not really-kinda resembles our name brands.
All that notwithstanding, I still wanted to try and find a close approximation to what the drink would’ve tasted like when Eddie was mixing them up. There are 3 rums I vacillate between when I’m looking for Cubanesque. Flor de Caña 3yr Blanco from Nicaragua, Real McCoy 3 yr white from Barbados, or the one I chose this time, El Dorado 3yr white from Guyana. All of these are wonderful for their own reasons but the El Dorado stands out for body and flavor while maintaining bright dried fruit notes.
Which pairs well with our next ingredient, Apricot Brandy. Apricot brandy and apricot liqueur are used interchangeably in most cases though, there is a slight difference. Apricot brandy obviously utilizes a french brandy base, while the liqueur uses a neutral spirit. I’ve done a slightly disturbing amount of research on figuring out the best option here. After racking my spirit going back and forth and searching the availability of each at my local stores and reconciling the nuances of each I finally referenced Jeff Berry’s book Remixed wherein the recipe index under apricot brandy he states Rothman & Winter Orchard Apricot as the hands down best. Luckily, my local shop carries that and so there we have it. Numerous sources also claim Marie Brizard Apry as the industry standard so I believe either one of those will work beautifully.
The next ingredient is even more of a pain in the ass than deciphering the abstract flavors of rums we can’t get and dumping an hour of research into solving the virtues of brandy vs liqueur. This trouble doesn’t stem from locating the ingredient, but preparing it. I’m talking about my nemesis, fresh pineapple juice. In most cases even the purists will agree that the little cans of Dole 100% unsweetened pineapple juice are just fine. However, Jeff Berry explicitly states regarding the Hotel Nacional that it will ruin the drink. Therefore, we must endeavor forthwith on this unforgiving journey that is rendering fresh pineapple juice. Look, maybe you guys have a trick or a fancy processor that makes this task easy, but every one of my attempts has left me cursing the Tropiki gods and desecrating a whole pineapple for maybe 2 drinks worth of juice. Lo!, this unfruitful bounty! How this golden nectar of fertility has evaded me! The method I’m trying this time is to simply chop the flesh into chunks then muddle it through a colander. There’s no one I trust in this genre more than Jeff Berry, but damn, I hope you’re right, brotha.
Lastly we’ll need some fresh lime juice. Considerably easier to garner, yet no less imperative to the outcome. Some modern renditions call for simple syrup but it’s not in the original.
I’m going to try the recipe with each of the three rums. Also, a lot of modern recipes call for 1 ½ oz rum while the original only uses 1 oz. Once I figure out which rum is the best I’ll try to increase the rum to see how it changes.
First up is Havana Club Añejo Blanco, a traditional clear Spanish Style rum from Puerto Rico:
Okay, the initial sip is soft and flat. There’s no heavy rum flavor and there is a tepid apricot/pineapple overtone that’s not unpleasant. For only having a ¼ oz liqueur it is definitely the star here. Actually, less of a star and more of the supporting character that’s always trying too hard to steal the scene.
Next up, El Dorado 3 Yr White Demerara rum from Guyana:
This version fills out a little more, maybe. But maintains the soft, flat texture. Which is nice, but there’s something missing. I feel the small amount of rum is making the liqueur do too much of the heavy lifting. Also, with only ¼ oz lime juice I feel there’s something to be desired.
Finally, Planteray 3 Star. A blend of rums from Barbados, Jamaica, and Trinidad:
Okay. Finally I can taste some rum. However, this still isn’t blowing me away. I literally am writing this as I’m sipping all three drinks and none of them are living up to the hype of the Mafia in Havana or disputes over origin by classic tropical era bartenders and there’s definitely nothing revolutionary about this. I love the softness in the texture. It’s so unique in a genre replete with feverishly bold flavors. It’s just too bitter without any sugar or balanced lime. Could be that a silky texture is exactly what the creator was going for but, in an era when they loved everything super sweet, I feel like this is lacking. Perhaps the creator was perpetuating that long standing tradition that we epicureans have of taking all the flavor out of something and calling it “nuanced” for a “refined palate”. All in all a bum showing for Woelke, if he did in fact invent this drink, since he was known as “one million drink Woelke”, for the number of daiquiris he’s said to have served up. I reckon Constantino would take umbrage with that. In any case, this drink is not very “woke”.
Here’s Eddie Woelke’s original recipe:
1 oz Light Cuban Rum
¼ oz Apricot Brandy
1 oz Fresh Pineapple Juice
¼ oz Fresh Lime Juice
Shake with ice and strain into a coup, Nick & Nora, or cocktail glass.
Here’s my last attempt. I’m going to try this as a true daiquiri with the apricot liqueur added split with simple syrup the way the master, Constanino, used Maraschino Liqueur in his famous daiquiris. I also increased the lime juice to try and balance it out.
1 ½ oz Planteray 3 Star Rum
½ oz Lime Juice
1 oz Fresh Pineapple Juice
¼ oz Simple Syrup
¼ oz Apricot Brandy
Shake everything with ice and strain into a coup, cocktail glass, or Nick & Nora.
Result? I would drink this all day. It hasn’t lost its softness, but added the balance of fruity-bitter-sweet-rummy tropical fervor that we seek in a classy old Caribbean cocktail. Apricot covers the tongue with rich dried fruit while the fresh juices keep us grounded in the islands all together kept true by the body of aged rum. Like all the the other flavors are spiralling in the ether and it’s the rum shouting, “Hold! Hoooooold steady!” Like a pirate ship undulating with a choppy sea on its way into Havana Harbor.
I’m not dismissing the idea that it could be that our modern palate has changed, and very likely our ingredients have changed. That being said; balanced, tropical, and prestigious is how I would describe this Hotel Nacional Special. In fact, I just did. And by jove, I’d do it again!
Why do things like pirates and mobsters appeal to us so much? I think it’s the same reason we try getting back with ex’s, because we only remember the good parts. Our minds could compartmentalize how cool it would be to sail the warm Caribbean imbibing in each island’s rum and trying out a different bed in every port, from the reality of violence and thievery. Same with mobsters. While flashy suits and tables in the back make overtures towards my blue collar bank account the bloom is off the rose when you’re spending decades in jail.
Back in the day there was a saying in New York Italian neighborhoods, “Yeah, those are bad guys. But, they’re our bad guys.” And I can understand that mentality. Pirates took to the sea in protest of a social system that failed them. The Mafia began in Sicily as communities forming secret societies in retaliation towards corrupt government. There are hints of nobility amid the dysfunction. Again, like those old relationships.
I am against violence in almost any situation. So, take that out of the equation then look at the Mafia in Havana. Everybody eats. Everyone was making money and the people spending money there wanted to. Gambling, drinking, opulent rooms at the Hotel Nacional with ladies of the night and back to work on Monday. No harm, no foul. But, it was corrupt, and that had to be stopped! So, the Cuban people, like so many peoples throughout history, traded a corruption of freedom and prosperity for a corruption of tyranny and impoverishment. Maybe, if there’s always going to be bad guys, it’s better for them to be our bad guys.
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Tony and this has been Pod Tiki.
Sources: Potions of the Caribbean and Remixed by Jeff Berry, liquor.com, imbibe.com, wikipedia, havana60.com, drunkardsalmanac.com, gotrum.com, cfr.org, Google AI.
