Like sugar melted into caramel, flan in Miami constantly burns a hole through our hearts. It's so easy to make: eggs, milk, and sugar — maybe a little vanilla or cinnamon — whisked into a custard. And every Latin American country has its own perfected rendition. So why are we constantly subjected to overly creamy masses of what basically amounts to pudding violently infused with corn syrup at even the fanciest restaurants? We expect our flan to jiggle, the loving result of a traditional bain-marie cooking method. And we want it imbued with real sugar, but not such massive amounts that we must schedule several root canals in anticipation. Enter Rio Cristal, an unfancy, greasy-plate Cuban joint whose flan ($3.90) wiggles like a stripper at a Lil Wayne party, sits in a pool of syrup so shimmery it blinds us, and melds into creamy goodness as it restores our faith in "Spanish cheesecake."