Capturing the tumultuous modern history of Cuba in two hours is an impossible task, and, luckily, it isn’t playwright Eduardo Machado’s aim in his appealing and moving 2003 play, “The Cook.” Rather, Machado presents glimmers of the emotional, societal, and political impact of Cuba’s revolution in three stages over 40 years by narrowing our gaze to Gladys, the cook, and her intimates.
Native Cuban, Gladys (wonderful Yesenia Iglesias) has worked in the opulent, elaborately tiled Havana estate of a rich white family since she was a young teenager. With her employers’ help, she has become their cook, a job she loves and takes pride in. She works for Adria, the extravagant, stylish, and self-centered 30-something wife (first-rate Gisela Chipe).
We first meet Gladys at the end of 1958, when she caters an elaborate New Year’s Eve party for Adria, her husband, and their cronies who serve Cuba’s then-president cum dictator, Fulgencio Batista. The warm camaraderie among the staff—all cousins of Gladys’s—and the welcoming kitchen tableau (Tanya Orellana, Scenic Design) add a natural ease and rhythm to the scene.
But this New Year’s is different ─ and momentous ─ because it’s the day Fidel Castro’s revolution was launched. The coming revolution is good news to Carlos (well-played Daniel Duque-Estrada), Gladys’ blustering chauffeur husband, who sees it as a means to better his status, while Gladys is uncomfortable with change. Gladys’s young cousin Julio (Ashton Muñiz) is a bright gay teenager who dreams of becoming a fashion designer.
Adria, dressed in a mink stole, makes a hasty midnight getaway, abandoning her home while extracting a promise from Gladys to safeguard the house until her return. Gladys takes on the role of the house’s caretaker with abundant pride and fierce determination. She naively believes that she and Adria are friends because of their close daily contact.
In the next scene, it is 1972, and Gladys has continued to maintain and preserve the house despite the major changes in Cuba and its communist government. Carlos, now a bigshot minister of transportation, has become the obnoxious macho man we feared he might become when we encountered him in 1958. And Julio is risking the government’s wrath because of his homosexual affair with a diplomat.
The final scene is set in 1997. Gladys runs a paladar, a small restaurant in the house for visiting American tourists. Lourdes (a dual role by Gisela Chipe), the American daughter of Gladys’s former mistress, visits her mother’s former home. In their dramatic confrontation, the women explore both personal and political issues. Teenaged Rosa (excellent Georgina Morillo), Gladys’s stepdaughter, articulates the viewpoint of those who stayed in Cuba, while Lourdes represents those who left. America’s blockade of Cuba is also a bone of contention, as are long-held racial biases. This scene is the intense, theatrical highlight of “The Cook.”
Skilled Director David Mendizábal (“All My Sons,” “Mexodus”) made the most of “The Cook,” which is occasionally hampered by the slightly artificial construct of the changing years and the didactic dialogue needed to educate those in the audience who aren’t old enough to have lived vicariously through the Cuban revolution.
I highly recommend “The Cook” — it’s a bittersweet, memorable experience. The running time is approximately two hours, including one intermission.
By Emily S. Mendel
© Emily S. Mendel 2026 All Rights Reserved emilymendel@gmail.com
