There’s a cheesecake in my fridge, browned just so on the top, sitting next to a large pot of sweet, sweet lime juice syrup, and the best part of the story is that I made it all, last night, after coming home from watching “Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights” with Jason and Andrew. DD:HN is a work of majesty. Having half-heartedly watched the original Dirty Dancing fairly recently in my life, I was concerned I’d miss out on any intertext. But all worries amounted to naught, because once the lights go down, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights grabs you by the hips and spins and twirls and dips you across the dance floor like you’re about to win the 1959 Latin Ballroom Dancing Contest. After the movie got done, I said: “Hey, let’s stay for the 9:45 showing!” in response to which Jason laughed, quite loudly, actually, but he didn’t say no. Still, I guess it was just as well we did leave, ’cause otherwise I wouldn’t now have a cheesecake in my fridge, browned just so on the top, sitting next to a large pot of sweet, sweet lime juice syrup.