Dagoberto Estevill's frizzled potato strings place him far above Miami's frita kings and magicians. The tiny strands are like little crisp, salty capsules holding puffs of air that crunch the second you touch Dago's frita cubana ($4.50). They come showered over a perfect patty with just enough Spanish paprika to fill your nostrils with their smoky aroma — and enough grease to tie each bite together. Then the julienned potatoes come on like a summer afternoon squall, soaking up the patty's seasoning while dancing around the scattered chopped onions. How does Dago make them? He won't say. "¿Pero, te gustaria más?" he inquires from behind the chest-high counter inside his pastel-blue cafeteria, Fritas Domino la Original. "Claro," is the only reply. Pop a few sticks into your shirt pocket for a snack later on.