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However, paladar-like restaurants began springing up across the island in the early 1990s in response to the growing scarcity of food. Armed with an unyielding hope mixed with a deep sense of the absurd, Cubans followed Raquel’s lead by beginning to refer to their own home-grown restaurants as paladares.
In September 1993, as an administrative response to the multitude of homegrown survival strategies developed by the Cuban people, the government decided to legalize over 100 self-employed occupations. Included among these occupations were four food service activities, including what became known as the infamous “et cetera”—“producer of light snacks (refreshments, sweets, popsicles, et cetera).” By early December the government was forced to modify its initial decision because many Cubans who had obtained licenses were, in fact, running full-fledged restaurants under the broadest possible interpretation of “et cetera.” Debates in the Cuban Parliament over the offending “et cetera” concluded that legalization of food service had been a mistake due to the suspicion that these fledging restaurants encouraged competition, depended on pilfered supplies, and unlawfully contracted employees. Despite the legal reversal and subsequent crackdown, the number of these speak-easy eateries was estimated to be as high as 4,000 nationwide by early 1994, with perhaps 1,500 located in Havana alone. In June 1995, the government approved a resolution that finally recognized and began to legally regulate paladares. The new law specifically addressed the previously suspended self-employment category of “producer of light snacks (et cetera)” and laid out three specific types of food service operations that would be henceforth allowed. This list included street vendors, home-front vendors, caterers, and full-fledged home-based paladares. Paladar operators would have to pay monthly taxes in the currency in which they charged their customers. Additionally, while no other self-employment operation can hire employees, the government recognized that paladares had always operated with the help of a service and kitchen staff. Therefore, the law established a peculiar regulation prohibiting “salaried employees” on the one hand, while mandating the hiring of at least three “family helpers” on the other. Thus was born the fiction that paladar employees are family members. At this stage, the government also placed a list of infamous limitations on the size and scope of the paladares in order to limit competition with government restaurants. The most well-known restriction is the seating limit of just “doce sillas” (12 chairs). Other restrictions limited each household to a single self-employment license, required that operators purchase their supplies either in state-run dollar-stores or in private farmer’s markets, mandated that restaurateurs save all receipts as proof of legal supply sources, and prohibited the sale of seafood, horsemeat, and beef. Finally, paladares were subject to unannounced visits from three different inspector corps. Ironically, government regulations strictly defining paladares as “home-based family-run” restaurants have given them their most appealing, unique, and authentically Cuban characteristic. Unlike private restaurants elsewhere in the world, paladares must be located in the owner-operator’s home. In fact, the law requires that the owner in fact be the operator, thought this regulation is often flexible in practice. Besides provoking some creative ownership arrangements and silent partners, these requirements have produced some of the most compact yet elegant and original “spaces” to be found in Cuba today. A rough equivalent to these hidden-in-plain-sight eateries might be the “invisible” speakeasy saloons that populated the underbelly of prohibition-era America. Like those saloons, Cuba’s paladares often face the dilemma of trying to stay well-hidden while at the same time needing to publicize their existence to potential customers. Consider this guide my small attempt to help them accomplish that goal. Many of Havana’s legally registered paladares have been driven out of business or underground since 1996 when they reached their high water mark of perhaps 500. Fortunately, Havana still boasts between 60 and 90 paladares of varying quality and price located throughout the city. In general, only the largest, strongest, and most well-connected operations have been able to survive given the constant repression and recent crackdown (late-fall, 2005) against the “new rich” of the small-scale private enterprise sector in Cuba. Despite the crackdown, most paladares that managed to survive through 2002 are still in business today and many have continued to renovate their facilities and expand their offerings considerably. The picture in Santiago is less pleasant. Of the estimated 115 paladares that existed there in 1996, only two legal ones are still in business (with many others operating clandestinely). Havana’s top five paladares: |
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This classy, unique place in the middle of the Vedado neighborhood has consistently impressed me and my friends as it has continued to update and improve its menu and infrastructure. How many other places in Cuba (or the world) can boast quail’s eggs, pig’s feet, frog’s legs, and sweet fried plantains as appetizers!
Gringo is named for its Cuban owner-operator, Omar, who is often found on the premises regaling guests and insisting that they try his most recent wine and spirits acquisitions. Though Omar is far from a gringo (a word not used in Cuba—it’s “Yuma” instead), he is the spitting image of Gregory Peck’s character in the American film, “The Old Gringo” (based on a novel by Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes). The poster from the film prominently adorns one wall, while other walls feature the posters of other Cuban and international films.
The main dishes are inventive and enticing. The house specialty is pollo acetunado (stewed chicken with green olives) and they occasionally serve an excellent smoked salmon. The fish and squid are also excellent. There is a fully stocked bar and a respectable wine list. Also, this place is perhaps the best example of transforming a tight basement apartment into an original, elegantly decorated culinary enterprise. The portions are large and the service is quick. Open noon-11 p.m. every day. There is no sign on the street but there is always a guard/doorman on duty. You pass through a large wooden door on the street and enter a different world as you pass thorough a secure entryway with a remote lock. That cloak and dagger experience alone is worth a visit. |
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While there are still inexpensive items on the menu, prices have recently gone up considerably and each of the side items so generously brought to your table (an extensive selection of fresh fruit, fresh rolls, and cold bottled water) will appear later on your bill so be careful when you order.
Hurón Azul is a favorite dining spot of the Cuban jet-set (mainly artists and intellectuals) whose photos and artwork adorn the walls. The paladar is centrally located just one block off of La Rampa (23rd Street) and two blocks south of Hotel Nacional. Again, since this place refuses to pay commissions, don’t be fooled by street hustlers outside trying to lead you away. If you are particularly tight on time or money, this place has been known to serve great cajitas (boxed lunches) in Cuban pesos (32-36 pesos or $1.50).
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The food is terrific and imaginatively prepared and the atmosphere is romantic and truly unforgettable. The prices range between $8-$11 per main dish, but given all the extras and scrumptious appetizers, beer, coffee, etc., expect to pay $25 per person total. It is often full and is closed on Saturdays. Be warned that the strict hours of operation are just from 12—3 p.m. and 7—10 p.m. Call ahead for a reservation.
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The food is good and the atmosphere is very appealing with vine covered arbors, waterfalls, fish tanks, and ponds with turtles and goldfish. There is an open grill (parrillada) and a traditional Cuban country bungalow (bohío) in the back. There is even a spacious, air-conditioned English-style pub where you can drink and dine in relative private. There are a host of wild animals on the premises, including a massive fish tank filled with beautiful tropical specimens (not to eat). The menu offers an extensive selection of foods and there is an impressive new bathroom facility (a rarity in Cuba).
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The name, meaning ‘the hideout,’ is well chosen since the place is in the middle of non-touristy Centro Habana on the third floor of a building with no elevator. The trip is well worth it, however, given the ruined elegance of the building, the exquisite decoration of the paladar, the quality of the food, the friendly service, and the reasonable prices ($9-$12 per plate, side dishes extra).
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Rumor has it that these prices have risen considerably without any improvement in the quality of the food. However, I cannot confirm this. It is closed between 3 and 7 p.m., does not serve lunch on the weekends, and closes during June, July, and sometimes August. Beware of sneaky hustlers who will try to divert your business to other mediocre paladares nearby. Also, be aware that some cabbies do not favor this place since they refuse to pay commissions. Reservations are essential as the place is often overflowing even after 11 p.m.
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| Cuba’s paladares (private home-based restaurants) |
| Text by Ted Heneken |
