by Ariel Taylor | It occurred to me the other day, while cooped up in a dingy hotel room guiltily enjoying my first real dose of North American television in two months (oh yes, even CNN has made its way to Cuba), that advertising is nearly nonexistent in this country. And while yes, popular brands like Adidas and Apple are not beyond the consciousness of even the most poverty-stricken Cuban, the brand inundation we so passively endure in the West is far removed from daily life here. And furthermore, that this is perhaps nowhere more influential as in the business world of Cuban paladares.

Over the course of my time in Havana I have had the opportunity to sit down with 8 different paladar owners to ask them a long list of questions relevant to my impending university thesis. These businesses have varied tremendously in earnings, locality and character, yet the state ban on advertising has been a consistent grievance among them. The majority seem to agree that if permitted to utilize state media their businesses would surely boom.

Officially, Cuban paladares are permitted to have one exterior sign publicizing the presence of their business, and while the majority of paladares I’ve visited fervently embrace this tiny allowance, a small minority do not. Interestingly these have been by far the most successful, stylish and skilled paladares in Havana. Often located on quiet residential streets, behind high gates or large doors, these paladares take the utmost care to remain entirely hidden. Many Cubans have only heard their names via tourist friends and likely would never dream of spending the three months salary needed to patron them; and even if they wanted to, they’d never get through the front door.

My foreign clothes, white skin and North American accent draw attention on any given day in Havana (usually to my aggravation), but on the occasions I’ve visited these allusive paladares they’ve been my ticket in. Approached outside on the street usually by a plain clothed Cuban man and asked in a low voice (often in English) if I’m looking for a paladar, I’m escorted to the front gate where an intercom system (or in one case a kind-of bouncer) confirms my arrival and suitability for entrance. I am then ushered through a number of locked doors before finally entering. Each time I’ve been struck by the elegance, scope and most importantly, the illegality of these businesses – so much so that I bluntly took the opportunity to ask one such paladar owner about it.

Much to my surprise he was not at all reluctant to share with me the strategy behind these seemingly excessive security measures. In this particular case, the owner was equally blunt about his desire to keep Cubans out of his paladar in order to offer tourists a more upscale and choice dining experience. To achieve this air of exclusivity he chooses to forego his small advertising allowance and instead prefers to exploit our own Western penchants of “in camera” and “members only” as the means to burgeon his, now quite successful, business.

With 15 years in operation, 85 seats and a staff of over 30 members, it’s clear he’s doing something right. When asked about the ramifications of breaking so many regulations around menu items, seating numbers and live entertainment, he simply shrugs and tells me the Cuban government understands the need for high end tourism in Havana, and as long as he’s willing to share his profits the state is happy tolerate him. He quickly points out that if it wasn’t for him, 30 university educated staff members would be unemployed, as would the 5 regular taxi drivers he pays to exclusively service his customers. He also takes some pleasure in pointing out that, in his opinion, the government would forfeit a critical component of its own rebranding strategy as a “world-class tourist destination” if they shut him down. It was…an enlightening conversation, to say the least.

So back in my dingy hotel room, watching shitty American television and contemplating the implications of a North Americanized advertising machine in Cuba, I can’t help but admire the nuanced understanding of class employed by these more ‘exclusive‘ paladares. Because in a country where the dogma of equality and redistribution have been the tenets of socialist society for over fifty years, these business owners are intimately aware of the Western world’s taste for social gradation and, more importantly, the potential financial opportunities it can yield. While its true that no communist country as ever truly gained social or economic equality among its population, the proliferation of self-employment and entrepreneurial fever in Cuba will surely add to the rapidly changing landscape of a country too often described as stuck in the past.

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