Fabelo's Delicatessen seizes a battered cauldron lid—rimmed with rust blooms and bolted by metal straps like a forensic exhibit—as substrate for a scraped-down visage, incised amid the oxide crust. The profile, hollow-cheeked and lopsided with a distended ear and wispy strands unraveling into scratches, surfaces like residue scraped from a pot's underbelly, aligning with his grotesque fusions where anatomy dissolves into insectoid remnants, as in his beetle-human amalgams. 

The title's deli-slick sarcasm grates against the lid's functional rot, unpacking meat-as-merchandise within Cuba's post-collapse economy of makeshift and dearth. Parallel to Cafedral (2003), with its teetering cookware spires, this piece repurposes kitchen wreckage as a phantom trap, stressing ingestion's castoffs and adaptive deformity through unvarnished material fact.