Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [89]
What little I had read and heard about Cuba before the trip proved to be quite inaccurate. I must admit that I developed a great admiration for the people of Cuba after seeing and touring the existing facilities, listening to the government’s assessment of existing conditions and future efforts, freely roaming the streets and seeing and talking with the local people. Yet both during and after my visit, Cuba remained an enigma. What was really going on there? The issues were complex. The opinions were passionate. I left no more certain about Cuba’s beer culture and brewing industry, though I know that it truly exists and remains to be explored. Discovering the soul takes time.
Soon I began to shatter the myths of my imagination, but not without a flood of long-forgotten memories of people, places, cars, food and feelings of what it was like for me, growing up in the 1950s and early 1960s. In a time warp, the cars, the music, the spectacularly beautiful art deco Spanish-American architecture of the 1950s are still much intact. But sadly, there is more crumbling and disrepair. Old Havana is the historic port of the early 1500s as well as a favorite haunt of Ernest Hemingway. I enjoyed a daiquiri where it was invented and a mojito (rum, lime, sugar, ice and mint) at the bar where it was first concocted. Although I was not visiting Cuba as a tourist, my hosts easily found cold beer for my enjoyment. The quality was variable but mostly acceptable.
Cuba’s potential for economic development is quite staggering. In 1959 more than 2 million American tourists came to Cuba, many for gambling and an experience of decadence. After the revolution, the government nationalized all industry and property. Gambling fled and later emerged in Las Vegas. Many Cuban businesses and individuals lost fortunes; many who left still hate the existing regime, vowing someday to return and recover their lost property. But this will be difficult for the brewing companies, for at this point there is little left to recover but the earth on which these fading breweries barely exist.
Havana brewers
On the road, one of every 10 or 15 cars is a 1951–1954 Chevy, Oldsmobile, Plymouth, Packard, Cadillac, Ford or Pontiac. They are truly a breathtaking sight to behold and one of the real and unique tourist “resources” in Cuba. Cubans have kept them running for 40 years with haywire and bubblegum. Carburetors are reconstructed from tin cans if necessary. It would be a crime to see them sold and leave the island to languish in the garage of a car collector. In Cuba these are real cars used by real people. They certainly are proud. Though they have little, it doesn’t show in their physical appearance. They are a determined and hard-working people. And they make things work, inside or outside the system. The same is true of the brewing industry. They have developed some incredibly creative ways to remain operational.
During my visit the streets were spotlessly clean—there was no trash to discard.
Stagnation has characterized the brewing industry for the past 35 years. The state “owns” and manages all seven brewing factories. Similar products are produced by more than one brewery and often under different formulations. The lack of capital and materials has drastically affected the manufacture and quality of the products. Almost all of the beer is brewed with 50 percent sugar, few bottles are labeled (labels are in scarce supply) and working equipment is continually being cannibalized to provide spare parts for downsized operations.
Early 20th-century Havana brewery
Miraculously, the brewers of Cuba continue to brew beer with equipment that by industry standards would be virtually unacceptable elsewhere. But I noted one exception at the post-revolution brewery in Holguin, which was fitted with East German brewery equipment and a canning line. The spirit of the brewers and operations people was inquisitive and searching for