''Have you tried el balsero?'' Alfredo González asks.

Have I tried the rafter? This being Miami, I'm not exactly sure how to consider that question. But González, as much a cuentista, a storyteller, as he is a restaurateur, quickly explains that el balsero ($17.95 dinner, $15.95 lunch) is one of the specialty dishes at David's Cafe, his Cuban restaurant on Meridian Avenue, just a few steps from Lincoln Road.

''The rafter'' consists of an impossibly long plantain shell, fried tostón-style and stuffed with six shrimp placed ''tail up'' in a tomato enchilado sauce. The plantain looks more like a canoe or a gondola than a raft, so imagination is required as well as a sense of humor.

One each side of the ''raft'' is a thin French fry.

''The oars,'' González says.

Such quirky color makes a trip to David's, well, a trip. The restaurant has bordered Lincoln Road the last eight years, metamorphosing along with the area from a Bohemian fonda-like cafeteria into a full restaurant that has a pleasant, white-linen (after 4 p.m.) dining room to go with the still-Bohemian cafecito counter and extremely casual shorts-and-flats eat-in area.

Like Lincoln Road, the restaurant comes with quite a cast of characters.

There's the Vietnam veteran who dons a David's Cafe baseball cap and white guayabera (as does the staff) and goes out to the main promenade to lure diners by singing verse about the place. The vet came here looking for food about six years ago and landed on the promotions payroll.

Then there's González, who owns and runs (though he claims to be ''semi-retired'') the eatery with his wife, Merita, and two of three sons, Adrián and Alex. (Alfredo Jr. is a lawyer). This is his second David's Cafe in Miami Beach. The first, at Collins Avenue and 11th Street, remains a cafeteria but is scheduled to be soon remodeled to also include a dining room.

González, who left Cuba 43 years ago and then New Jersey for Miami 26 years ago, started in the business with Three Boy Luncheonette on Normandy Isle. All he'll say about that is that he ''sold it to the bank.'' Then, he came upon the Collins Avenue cafeteria.

'It already had the name David, so I left it there. It gave me luck. Four years ago, I went to Israel and I kneeled before King David's tomb and said, `Thank you, David,' '' González says straight-faced.

It's tough to tell what's truth and what's puro cuento. Ask him about the prominent wall-size mural in the dining room of Havana's famous El Morro.

''A drunk man did it,'' he says. ``Really, an Ecuadorean with a bottle in hand. We fixed it up later.''

From there, he boasts about his fabulous mojitos, the minty rum drink spiced with yerbabuena.

What's special about David's mojito?

''It's Cuban,'' he says.

What's the price?

``Popular price.''

You insist. He tells you $6.40. (That's a clue: Nobody sets a drink price with 40 cents in it.) He leaves you no choice but to round up hungry colleagues and head straight to David's to check out the mojitos (sure enough, they are $7.25 apiece on the bill) and to sample that balsero special nobody told you about on previous visits.

The mojitos and the balsero are hits. But more so is the flaky vaca frita ($11.95), the fried shredded beef we sampled on another visit, and the pollo asado, the roasted chicken at $10.95 on the regular menu, but a $6.95 lunch special this day.

The only disappointments are the maduro plantains -- not as sweet, golden brown and mushy as they should be, and the long fried chips that came with a Cuban sampler appetizer ($9.95), lacked freshness. The rest of the sampler -- malanga fritters, tamal, fried yuca strips and pork chunks -- were tasty enough.

Seafood is good, especially nightly dinner specials. A ceviche-style seafood salad ($11.95) served on a bed of lettuce, and salmon in cream sauce ($16.95) flanked by two nice-size shrimp, excelled. Better yet, the salmon came with a silky malanga purée that was simply superb.

The best part about David's is that, despite the élan of its South Beach location, it remains as criollo as if it were smack in the middle of Calle Ocho. Or better yet, Hialeah. So when it came time for dessert and we perused the short but traditional Latin American lineup -- all made at the restaurant except the tres leches ($3.95) -- there was only one thing to do: Indulge a calzón quitao, meaning you give free rein to your neurotic ethnic vent.

And here's mine -- the marriage of flan, the caramel custard, and arroz con leche, the sweet milk and rice dessert -- in one spoonful. Order one flan ($3.25) and one arroz con leche ($3.25), dip your spoon in each one, and all together now, in your mouth.

That's what you call a heavenly union. At David's you can seal it with the best cortadito this side of the causeway, sweet café cubano with a milky froth on top, the kind that leaves you a capuccino mustache. And that is no fib.