In the wake of the Obama administration's decision to restore full diplomatic relations with Lenin's playground, the debate has been joined about where to locate a Cuban consulate in Florida. Hmmmm, where, oh, where? Decisions, decisions.

At first blush the Miami area seemed like a logical choice. Miami is loaded with some 800,000 Cuban-Americans. And if you only followed the national news media's coverage of this story, it would be understandable to have the impression you can't get a decent cup of a cafe con leche north of Little Havana. 

We in Tampa know that narrative is complete, uh … boliche.

Miami Mayor Tomas Regalado has opposed the opening of a consulate in his city, suggesting the presence of all those commies would incite potentially violent protests. And the Miami area's myopic Republican congressional delegation also has weighed in with their resistance to a Cuban consulate. 

But in Tampa, the Cubans would find a much more welcoming environment. Democratic U.S. Rep. Kathy Castor has enthusiastically embraced a Cuban consulate in the city. Even Tampa Mayor Bob Buckhorn, while not openly cheerleading for the move, has noted local law enforcement would certainly be able to address any security concerns that might arise.

After all, the Tampa constabulary ably maintained law and order during the 2012 Republican National Convention, which was crawling with thousands of hygiene-challenged protestors. The cops can certainly handle a few malcontents waving placards accusing the Cuban government of being the Dante's Inferno of the Caribbean. 

There are other sound reasons why Tampa is a no-brainer for the Cubans, including the city's deep historical roots with the nation while Miami was nothing more than swampland atop swampland.

It was in Tampa where the revered Cuban patriot Jose Marti lectured and raised money for the island's revolution against Spain in the 19th century, while Miami was conducting its mosquito census. It was here that Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders prepared for combat in the Spanish-American War — when they weren't hanging out at Mons Venus, serving Tampa's hoochie-coochie needs since King Alfonso XIII was in knickers. And it has been Tampa that has adopted a far more pragmatic approach toward Cuba. While Miami holds its breath and stomps its feet, regular flights make their way from Tampa to the island. Local delegations of business and political leaders have visited Havana, sensibly laying the groundwork for future investment. 

Still, if the Cubans are undecided as to where to put their consulate, they should know that Tampa reigns as the Cuban sandwich capital of the world while Miami is still peddling a pale imitation that barely rises above the level of a glorified pig in a blanket.

It was that noted diplomatic bastion, the Tampa City Council, that voted (unanimously) to proclaim the city's unique contribution to the culinary arts, the "Historic Tampa Cuban Sandwich." So it must be true. 

Let the Miamians whine and fret and wring their hands. Tampa awaits with open arms, not to mention a spread loaf of Cuban bread, to welcome Havana's emissaries to the city. What better way to thaw long-frozen diplomatic ties than over a steaming bowl of caldo gallego soup and a genuine pressed and "Historic" Tampa Cuban?