It’s a balmy Thursday evening in Miami’s North Beach. My friend, Jose, picks me up for a midweek rendezvous. We’re heading to La Poubelle, a speakeasy cabaret in Normandy Isles, though neither of us is sure where to go. This place is a well-kept secret. They never advertise, they barely promote, and you won’t find it on Google Maps, either. The exact location is revealed when you purchase tickets, and even then, you may struggle—but there are clues: poubelle is French for ‘trash can’. I find the directions and read them out loud like I’m following MapQuest in the year 2004. After a few missed turns, we seemingly arrive at our destination: a nondescript parking lot.
“Are you sure this is it?” Jose asks.
“I think so,” I respond. “I see a bunch of dumpsters over there. We must be close.”
There’s a handsome blonde man lingering by the dumpsters. That’s definitely it, I think to myself, and that is definitely David. With sharp cheekbones and a charming smile, David Sexton is the face of La Poubelle. He’s also the producer, maître d' and tonight, he’s playing the doorman. “Bienvenue!” he says. “Are you here for La Poubelle?” Bingo.
The making of Miami's newest speakeasy cabaret
Chatting with David feels warm and familiar, like catching up with an old friend. He tells us La Poubelle just opened a year ago, in August of 2024. What started as a once-monthly cabaret has evolved into a neighborhood staple with 50 seats and five-plus shows per month, each one starring a Broadway-caliber talent. There’s piano bar night and original one-man shows, songwriter debuts and even a ‘cabaret dragaret’ with South Florida’s live-singing drag queen, Miss Bouvèé.
Jose and I are giddy with excitement. Finally, the door swings open. Our jaws hit the floor. Behold, La Poubelle! My eyes widen to take it all in. Draped in crimson red and flickering candlelight, it’s a fabulous supper club scene. The servers are decked in leopard-print tops, the bartenders in bowties. I hear the shake of an ice-cold martini while a platter of steak frites passes me by. There are feathered chandeliers and vintage lamps, and mismatched mirrors hung on the walls. It feels like we stumbled into a New York City jazz club, right down to the stage with red velvet curtains.
That’s exactly the idea, says Sandy Sanchez. Adorned in a leopard-print ensemble, Sandy is the founder and principal designer of La Poubelle. She’s also the co-owner of La Fresa Francesca in Hialeah and Normandy Isles’ Silverlake Bistro, two beloved restaurants with kitschy-chic interiors courtesy of Sandy and her curatorial eye.
Sandy first envisioned La Poubelle as a vintage bazaar, perhaps with wine tastings and occasional live music. Soon, the vision grew as Sandy and David let their imaginations run wild. If we’re doing wine tastings, why not food? If we’re hosting live music, why not cabaret? David drummed up talent from his Rolodex of performers, acquired through years of theater and promoting the arts in Miami. Sandy got to sourcing all over South Florida, even procuring church pews from a local chapel. They brought on Yecid Benavides Jr. to design a custom stage. Finally, La Poubelle was ready to lift the curtain.
Dinner that's as good as the show
In a city notorious for tardiness, La Poubelle is packed well before showtime. The reason? Gnocchi mac and cheese rendered in duck fat. Also, torchon foie gras, bacon-wrapped dates and classic meatballs in a San Marzano sauce. Everything is catered by Silverlake Bistro and masterfully prepared by the restaurant’s executive chef (and Sandy’s husband), Benoit Rablat. Simply put, it’s a feast for the senses.
Jose and I opt for the flaky tarte flambée with onions and shiitake mushrooms, but really, it’s the burger we’re after: an ooey-gooey mound of double-stacked patties topped with thick-sliced bacon. But how do we order it? Neither the burger nor the steak frites is on the menu. Our table neighbors let us in on the secret: VIP ticketholders get access to a VIP menu and early entry.
Guests of La Poubelle have their pick of cocktails, too, as well as wine by the glass (and bottle) from prized regions such as Bordeaux, Côtes du Rhône, and Napa Valley. Sandy orders the Vintage Savoir-Vivre, a frothy pink cocktail in a dainty coupe glass. It looks delicious, and so I do the same.
We toast to the night and note the diverse crowd. Beside us, a 40th birthday party and a couple in their 60s. Behind us is a table of young twenty-somethings. Everyone is chatting and moving about, running into friends and befriending those around them. I sit back and watch in awe. If only more places in Miami had this magic.
A piano bar with Broadway soul
La Poubelle truly welcomes all – so long as you’re 18 and older. Victor Valdez and his madcap medleys are not for the faint of heart, but come with a good sense of humor and you’ll be handsomely rewarded. Together with his longtime collaborator, Rick Leonard, on keyboard (the two often performed at the legendary Magnum Lounge), Victor has the crowd in stitches from the very first song: a parody of Adele’s thundering ballad, “Hello”, inspired by guilty eating and miserable diets. (“They say kale has antioxidants but I’m anti-leafy greens / It’s my circumference between us, and there’s no gap between my thighs / Hello to my plate of friessssss”)
In classic piano bar fashion, guests are encouraged to tip the artists in exchange for a song request. I’m astonished at Victor’s and Rick’s encyclopedic memory (they rarely glance at sheet music), and the stellar musicianship on display. Guest performers grant Victor a short break. Some of them are professional singers, others are simply regulars. All of them are incredibly moving. An older gentleman with grey-blue eyes bares his soul for “La Vie En Rose”. Songwriter Janice Robinson leaves us speechless with her performance of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera. Victor brings us back to earth with a “slutty” Broadway tune. Naturally, Billy Joel is thrown into the mix. One last ballad and a well-placed butt joke, the evening concludes to roaring applause.
Heading home, I find myself wholly enamored, not just with La Poubelle, but the spirit of it all. The friendliness, the bonding with strangers, the unbridled joy of Broadway…all of it a testament to the kind-hearted folks who bring La Poubelle to life. David and Sandy, Miss Bouvèé, Victor and Rick, and the audience, too. The wonderful servers, Silverlake’s team, and the bartender in the back who whips up perfect martinis. Life in 2025 feels a bit like a dumpster fire, but I’d happily dance through flames if it led me to La Poubelle.
