Castropub

 

A “Castropub” is not the same as a gastropub, though you’d be forgiven for thinking so. However, being forgiven still means you can be sent to the gulag after an expeditious show trial. Our cadre of investors noticed an uptick in “red sensibilities,” as we’re deeming the communistic resurgence among the younger generations. So we decided to do something about it. 

Prices are more fixed than a fancy French restaurant. No forks, spoons, or knives here. Just miniature hammers and sickles. You’ll find the former incredibly useful when we lock the diners inside. It’s standard dining procedure to surrender your passport to the Maître D’. You aren’t considered done with the meal until everyone is. Dining is a communal experience, and this is all about the collective’s overall satiation. 

There is only the illusion of choice here. But we know what’s best for you, since you clearly don’t. You ended up here, didn’t you? We offer plenty of clothes since our dress code is rather strict (Soviet chic). 

You’re free to read (the literacy rate of our diners is approximately 100%), however the only permissible reading material is the menu itself. nothing that isn’t specifically mentioned on the menu. There are no specials.

The colors of the décor, as well as the dishes, are appropriately drab. Like we always say, “the soup should match the drapes.” In our case, it’s a deep military green. When the food you just consumed inevitably rebels, the color barely changes. In fact, we are so committed to revolution that we believe in the right of your food to self-determination. We believe that the only rival to a fiery political tract is a digestive tract.

Don’t worry about tipping, given that we’ve frozen your bank accounts and seized your assets. You’ll find that many of your personal groceries will end up in the kitchen. 

Diners of the world unite.