The notorious ´square´ meal

As things currently stand, feeding the 5000 would be a bit tricky in Cuba, and you certainly couldn’t do it a-la-Tristram Stuart off supermarket throwaways, because they just don’t exist. Sometimes feeding a family of 4 is a struggle enough. Indeed, a long standing joke in Cuba is: What are the three failures of the Revolution? Breakfast, lunch and dinner.

The Revolution induced the exodus of many of the upper and middle class restaurant clientele and with them knowledgeable chefs and restaurateurs.  What was left became part of the state and it was said to be all downhill from there. However, survivors born and bred, Cubans are incredibly resourceful and will do both anything and everything to get something onto the table.

Food is one of those mega issues – partly because it just is, but also because it’s me wanting to write about it – which deserves a few semi-coherent blogs rather than one large report. I suggest before we get into the intricate details and contradictions, however, that we cover the basics; the four ways I’ve observed to get a meal or snack in Cuba - some cheaper than others, some more legal than others, but none of them as easy or pleasurable as it can be for us. There is no Waitrose here. 

1.      La libreta: the legal rationing system controlled by the state.

 Think WWII style ration books which give you access to very cheap staples; one per house with a note of the number of inhabitants, their age and their health status. The book begins with utilities – gas, electricity, soap, toothpaste, (only the latter two have now been scratched off both the book  - both finding and affording soap and toothpaste is now up to you) and continues with foods such as rice, beans, bread, chicken, fish, oil and milk. Your houses’ quota of each of these is delivered to a central depot at various points during the month (except bread which is delivered daily by hand, a bit like the post), where it’s your responsibility to check what has arrived because. Leave it 4 days without collection and it’ll be lost.

Despite this being a universal service, however, it doesn’t actually guarantee you to anything. Sometimes (or almost always) fish doesn’t appear, for example, and in which case they give you chicken - though only the leg. Breast never appears and no doubt goes straight for hotels or export. The contradictions don’t stop there. Milk for example, which comes powdered and is very hard to find, is only available for children under 7 years old - after this point one can only conclude, as the government has done, that you’ve finished growing and have no need for calcium?! Of course, there are ways of getting around things like this, but most of them are illegal and a bit hit and miss.

2.      Peso eateries

These are stalls, (farmer’s) markets and fast food outlets selling produce in national pesos for Cubans. Not to say they would reject tourists, but I doubt you’d get many western clientele here. The roadside stalls and café’s-cum-bottom floor flats typically sell staple offerings/what they have in stock. This could be anything from fried chicken to pork or cheese sandwiches and sweet fluffy cakes. Sometimes the stalls will have large display areas but literally nothing but a limp bread roll inside. My experience of the farmers markets has been much better, particularly the one which sells the Organoponico produce. Here you can buy 5 large mangos for about 50p and an array of salad items, again when they’re in stock. The problem with fruit and vegetables however is that they are comparatively expensive, and they’re not much liked either.

Note well: there are no McDonalds or Starbucks in Cuba - bar Guantanamo Bay that is. I hear there are some imitations though which I’ll no doubt see in the bigger cities.

3.     Supermarkets, private restaurants and other CUC outlets

CUC stands for Cuban Convertible Pesos / aka tourist currency, and these are private food outlets which offer slightly more choice and food of less dubious quality, though only just. Occasionally they will actually be supermarkets as we know them (sort of) but more often than not they’re permanent stalls displaying products which you’ll then ask for.  As with the above however, you can’t rely on food that was there one day being there the next – both beer and ketchup had sold out in town last weekend for example.

The private restaurants are called paladares – heavily taxed and regulated private restaurants with all sorts of restrictions on them, including a ban on serving things like potatoes, lobster or beef due to the state monopoly on some such products and for others I’ve no idea. I’ll report back on the paladares when I’ve had the pleasure (!)

4.     The black market (national pesos)

In a country where so much is impossible, anything becomes possible with the black market. As the sun starts to go down (or even before), men or women carrying bags or wheeling barrows will shout slurred adverts for what they’re selling – almost always something you can’t legally/easily buy anywhere else. Out of the window of your flat you can decide whether anything takes your fancy, run down and grab it whilst it’s there. I’m talking everything from soya yoghurt to bags of chicken, eggs to fish and beef. It’s a risky business, selling on the black market, considering the fines and imprisonment you could be subjected to. However, it seems to be part and parcel of    life for those living without the chance to buy what they should be entitled to, whether they have the money or not.