A toast to the Commie chef

A toast to the Commie chef

It has a reputation for offering the worst food in the Caribbean, but is
it true that you can't get a decent meal in Cuba? Paul Mansfield sets
out in search of the Cuban culinary revolution

Sunday April 30, 2006
The Observer

Marmalade with cheese - what the hell is this? 'Postre,' says the
waitress. Dessert. After a four-hour hike across the Sierra del Rosario
mountains I was too hungry to argue, and anyway this was Cuba - the
island with the worst food in the Caribbean.

Or so you might think. In fact there's more to local cuisine than meets
the eye. The island's resort hotels may serve bland 'international'
menus; and local food is mainly comida criolla - chicken, pork, rice and
beans. But dining out in Cuba is not just about taste: it's about
finding a way in to this complex, often baffling country.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union and the loss of its trade
subsidies, Cuba's economy has lurched along in unpredictable fashion, as
Fidel Castro's regime struggles to reconcile the needs of capitalist
tourists with the ideals of revolutionary socialism.

Nothing illustrates this better than the rise of paladares - private
restaurants, usually in the spare room of someone's home.

Paladares were introduced in the 1990s to give private citizens the
chance to profit from the growing tourist market. But the government's
ambivalence about tourism means they're subject to a wealth of
regulations - a maximum of 12 diners, for example - and have therefore
become part of the political minefield of life in modern Cuba.

It's only partly true that paladares are good places in which to meet
the locals. Your fellow diners are all likely to be foreigners, and your
hosts will be too busy working to engage in much conversation. And if
they do, they'll be necessarily discreet about it. President Castro
turns 80 this year; the revolution happened nearly half a century ago,
and some people think both have outstayed their welcome.

'Fidel is a great man,' proclaimed one elderly waiter in a paladar in
the suburb of Vedado. A younger man muttered under his breath: 'Huh.
Nothing will improve until he goes. If he ever goes.'

He tailed off. Informers are everywhere in Cuba.

At the La Julia paladar in Havana's old quarter, teenage lads in the
street beckoned diners inside, where Señora Julia herself served up
simple meals of chicken or pork. Children scampered in and out; a
guitarist played Cuban songs. La Julia was a typical paladar:
inexpensive (£6 for a set meal), friendly: but food-wise, nothing to
write home about.

Of the scores of paladares in Havana only one really stands out - La
Guarida. On a blank-sided street in a residential area you're ushered
into a gloomy old apartment building where washing hangs from clotheslines.

At the top of a staircase a door opens onto a jumbled three-room salon
stuffed with bric-a-brac. There's a fully stocked bar with a good wine
list, and the menu offers delights such as spicy gazpacho and tuna in
coconut sauce. The service is first class, but the atmosphere is
slightly subversive. You leave feeling that you've been given a glimpse
into a secret Havana underworld - the controversial Cuban film Fresa y
Chocolate was shot here in 1994 and La Guarida still attracts an arty
clientele.

Meanwhile, Cuba's state restaurants, once dire and predictable, are
becoming more imaginative, and the arrival of new luxury hotels has
raised the gastronomic bar on the island. Havana's most opulent hotel,
the Saratoga, opened earlier this year, and the über-luxurious Royal
Hideaway at Cayo Ensenachos will open in June. In the Saratoga's
Anacaona restaurant waiters ferry plates of sea bass with rum and
saffron to well-heeled diners for around £35 a head.

Outside in the streets full of traffic fumes, elderly veterans of the
revolution sell copies of the Communist party newspaper Granma, and the
slogan 'Socialismo o Muerte' (socialism or death) is visible on many
walls. Calling Cuba an 'island of contrasts' doesn't begin to cover it.

Havana is booming as a result of tourism. Construction work is
everywhere, the streets are lined with state-run bars and restaurants.
Few locals, though, can afford to eat in them.

To rub shoulders with ordinary Cubans head for one of the peso cafes,
but how welcome you'll be is a moot point: Cubans are a proud people,
and rich tourists slumming it do not go down well, apart from with the
local hustlers, who are happy to exchange foreign cash for various
'services', often sexual.

Things, thankfully, are less complicated outside Havana. To the west is
Pinar del Río, where the low mountains of the Sierra del Rosario rise up
surrounded by tobacco and coffee farms. This is the home of Cuba's
emergent wine industry. At the Casa del Campesino restaurant near Soroa,
chickens wandered around the yard and the back terrace looked out over a
ruined coffee hacienda.

Food was comida criolla writ large: gut-busting portions of chicken and
pork; piles of moros y cristianos (literally Moors and Christians) -
beans and rice. Bottles of local wine cost around £2. Most were - how to
put it? - challenging - but a Castillo de Wajay red was more than
passable, and San Cristobal - the major winery - also puts out a decent
cabernet sauvignon.

But it was the nearby community of Las Terrazas that offered the biggest
culinary surprise. Las Terrazas is an 'eco-village' created in the 1960s
in what is now a Unesco biosphere reserve. It's a strange place, with
barrack-like workers' houses ranged round an artificial lake. There are
cafes, artists' shops, and, tucked away in an ordinary apartment block,
the El Romero eco-restaurant.

After a diet of comida criolla, El Romero comes as a shock. The menu is
eclectic, locally produced and mostly organic. Malva, a ceviche of lotus
root, lemon and turmeric, was followed by a main course of jinete -
delicate balls of chickpeas marinated in onion and garlic. This was
top-end cooking - and the funky atmosphere and efficient service were
reminiscent of La Guarida back in Havana. So how ironic, then, that El
Romero should turn out to be a state restaurant.

But then that's Cuba for you. Its two best restaurants are a state-owned
place that looks like a paladar, and a paladar that looks like it's
state-owned. Buen provecho!

Castro's gastro revolution

Havana has the best selection of restaurants in Cuba. Among the best
state restaurants is La Bodeguita del Medio, Empedrado Street (00 53 7
867 1374). Hemingway's former hangout gets overcrowded, but push your
way past the mojito-swilling tourists in the front bar and there's a
dark, atmospheric dining room behind. Solid comida criolla at reasonable
prices. Around £15 (all prices for two excluding drinks). The Anacaona
restaurant at the Hotel Saratoga, Prado 603 (00 53 7 866 4317) has the
most sophisticated food in Havana. From £60.

Paladares are easy to find mainly by the groups of young men waiting
nearby to hustle you inside. Most are open for lunch and dinner, but
hours can be erratic. Some of the best in Habana Vieja include La Julia,
O'Reilly 506; nearby El Rincón de Elegua, Aguacate 257, and Sabrino,
Obrapia 458, both owned by the same family and with similarly welcoming
atmospheres. One of the smallest paladares in Havana is La Moneda
Cubana, San Ignacio 77, a tiny, open-fronted place where the tables seem
to spill out onto the street. A typical paladar meal will be a set dish
of fish or meat served with rice and plantain, with some fruit to
follow, for around £12. Alcohol is usually available (imported Spanish
wine for around £7 a bottle, local beer £1.20) or you can bring your
own. The godfather of all Havana paladares is La Guarida, Concordia 418
(00 53 7 8669047; www.laguarida.com; reservations essential).

Another way of eating local food is to stay in a casa particular, or
private hotel, usually someone's spare room. These can serve food to
guests but not to outside diners - at least, officially.

Most towns have restaurants and cafes which accept Cuban pesos (see
'Money'), of which the two most attractive in the old town are Cafe Luz
on Obispo Street, and Cafe Habano on Mercaderes Street. Coffee is 10p,
an omelette 25p.

Paladares are banned in the tourist resort of Varadero. Recommended
establishments outside Havana include the Salon Tropical in Santiago de
Cuba, with a breezy terrace; and in Trinidad, the Sol y Son, where the
inside patio is hung with greenery. Both £12. West of the capital near
Las Terrazas the Casa del Campesino serves excellent comida criolla in a
rustic setting. £10. In Las Terrazas itself El Romero restaurant serves
adventurous vegetarian food in an eco-friendly environment. Around £12.

· Paul Mansfield travelled with Regent Holidays (0207 821 4020;
www.regent-cuba.com). Three nights at the Hotel Santander, Havana, and
four nights touring western Cuba, with hire car and accommodation
included, costs from £799 per person B&B, including return flights with
Virgin Atlantic.

· Money. The Cuban government recently banned the US dollar, and
visitors must change money into convertible pesos (CUCs), which carry
the same value as the dollar. Cuban pesos, at around 25 to the cuc, can
be used at a few local establishments but not in paladares.

· Guidebooks: The Rough Guide to Cuba, and Lonely Planet: Cuba (both
£12.99.) For up-to-date information see www.cuba-junky.com)

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