Val points to a web site promoting a disgusting restaurant in Providence, Rhode Island. It's called the Cuban Revolution and it serves up such alleged Cuban staples as burritos along with plenty of commie nostalgia and photos of a young fidel and che.
Some of the comments on Val's site are hilarious. Here's one - and it's a joke, so don't get all mad and stuff:
...what is needed is a Cuban ADL, an organized group that raises bloody hell and makes these hateful cockroaches run for cover. I like the idea of some scary santeria as well. How hard would it be to get a chicken, slit it's throat, tie some weird shit to it, write some slogans...what really pisses me off with people like this is the fact that they make their living off the pain and suffering of others.
Now, I grew up in Georgia and was influenced by the Anglo-African-American culture's nefarious ways of dealing with things of this nature. I find the Santeria way - of using a whole chicken - wasteful. Here's what I'd do.
I'd catch the chicken, wring it's neck, pluck the chicken, clean it and cut it into pieces. Or maybe I'd just go to Publix and buy a chicken already cut up. I'd also buy some Martha White flour and some salt and pepper, if I didn't already have some. I'd then make an ass of myself demanding my purchase be double bagged in paper not plastic. Then I'd go home.
I'd wash the chicken pieces and drain them on a paper towel. Then I'd take a couple of cups of the flour and dump them in the paper bag. Then add a half-hand full of salt and a half-hand full of pepper. I'd add about a half-teaspoon of white pepper and a little red pepper of some kind. Maybe a chopped up datil pepper. All in the bag. Shake the bag to mix it all up, then add the chicken pieces, a few at a time, and shake them until well coated. If you like, you could also soak the chicken in milk before tossing it in the bag.
Then deep-fat fry the chicken, let it cool some, and eat it. Carefully remove all the meat from the bones, then carry the bones outside and let them bleach in the sun for a couple of days.
Then I'd gather up the bones, drive to Providence, find the restaurant, and spread the chicken bones around underneath the front porch. Maybe spread some voodoo powder (The remaining flour, salt, pepper mixture in the bag would work) around the place, too. Woe be unto them who cross that porch, I'll tell you.
As for the Cuban ADL, maybe we need to revive Alpha 66.
The commenter's final point is very valid. Here we have capitalists, and a restaurateur can only be a capitalist even if a sandalista, making money off of the pain and suffering of others.