Having chewed my way through hundreds of porkers prepared a la Cubana, we tumbled into Versailles on Sunday night for a plateful. Place was packed and service was prompt as usual. But for the first time the dish that I have loved eternally was sadly below par - cold in fact and not succulent chunks but strings of fatty not very warm pork. Not even that wonderful lemony sauce was much in evidence. Now why didn't I make a screaming fuss - not possible because we were also part of a dinner meeting and I just didn't want to break up the party. On the plus, the flan was good and the Cuban coffee always wants me to want to join the line for the 25th July Brigade.