By AJ Jaffari
What happens when loyalty to a home, a country, and a promise begins to cost you everything? Eduardo Machado’s The Cook at Berkeley Repertory Theatre takes audiences into the heart of revolutionary Cuba through an incredibly intimate lens: one woman, one kitchen, and a promise that spans four decades. Rather than attempting to explain an entire political revolution through sweeping historical exposition, the play allows us to experience its consequences through the people who stayed, those who left, and the relationships forever altered in between.
At the center is Gladys, a devoted cook entrusted with the Havana home of an aristocratic family fleeing Cuba on the eve of Castro’s revolution. She promises to protect it until they return, only for years to become decades as the country—and Gladys herself—continues to change. When that family’s daughter eventually returns, everything Gladys believed about loyalty, sacrifice, and belonging is forced into question.
Admittedly, I walked into The Cook without an extensive knowledge of the Cuban Revolution, but I left feeling as though I had experienced a deeply personal piece of its history. That was perhaps what moved me the most. The play never made me feel like I needed a history book beside me to understand its emotional stakes. Instead, Machado paints the political landscape through these characters and allows their choices, losses, and relationships to tell us what upheaval can actually do to ordinary people.
I was completely captivated. There were moments of warmth and humor, but as the years passed and the consequences of these characters’ decisions became clearer, I found myself increasingly affected by what I was watching. I always say that when a production gets an audible reaction out of me, it has probably left an imprint—and this one certainly did. By the final scene, I felt like I had been through something alongside these characters. With Machado himself sitting just a couple of rows in front of me on opening night, I could only imagine how proud he must have felt watching this company breathe such passionate life into his work.
At the heart of the evening was Yesenia Iglesias as Gladys, delivering what I found to be the most poignant performance of the night. Iglesias carried an extraordinary amount of emotional weight while allowing us to watch Gladys evolve across decades. Her loyalty is admirable, frustrating, heartbreaking, and ultimately central to everything the play asks us to consider. Iglesias made every stage of that journey feel lived-in and truthful.
Daniel Duque-Estrada was equally compelling as Carlos, perhaps one of the story’s most complicated characters. My feelings toward him seemed to shift constantly, and I mean that as a compliment. There were moments when I understood him completely and others when I questioned everything about him. Duque-Estrada embraced those contradictions rather than trying to make Carlos easily likable, resulting in a fascinating performance.
Ashton Muñiz brought tremendous vulnerability to Julio and one of the evening’s most heartbreaking character arcs. Watching a gay man navigate the realities of a political revolution and the increasingly dangerous complications surrounding his identity left me with genuine anguish for him. Muñiz approached the material with such sincerity that Julio’s fate landed especially hard.
Georgina Morillo shone in Act II as Elena and Rosa, adding another dynamic layer to the evolving story. And Gisela Chipe faced perhaps one of the evening’s toughest assignments as Adria and Lourdes. As Adria, she represents a relationship that Gladys has spent years preserving in her mind, only for that bond to ultimately reveal itself as something far more painful.
Chipe handled those later confrontations fearlessly. Without giving away every detail, one particularly vicious racial slur sent an audible shockwave through the opening-night audience, myself included. It was ugly, intentionally so, and Chipe committed to the cruelty of the moment without softening its impact. That scene fundamentally altered the energy in the room, and it is one I won’t soon forget.
Director David Mendizábal led this production tremendously, creating a rhythm that allowed four decades of history to unfold without the evening ever feeling weighed down by its scope. The pacing was incredibly sharp, but just as importantly, the major emotional turns were given enough room to land. By the time we reached that final scene, I felt satisfied with the journey the production had taken me on. Berkeley Rep describes the play as one that examines “belonging and survival,” and Mendizábal’s production kept those questions rooted firmly in the humanity of its characters.
Tanya Orellana’s scenic design was simply stunning. Berkeley Rep consistently impresses me with the worlds they construct onstage, but Gladys’ kitchen felt extraordinarily tangible. With practical elements including a working stove and sink, the environment felt less like a theatrical set and more like a room we had been invited into. That realism became even more meaningful as the world outside changed while the kitchen remained such an important constant.
My favorite design element of the evening, however, may have been Mikaal Sulaiman’s sound design and original music. I’m a sucker for immersive surround sound, and this design was stellar. The audio seemed to envelop the room, expanding the world far beyond the walls of Gladys’ kitchen and making political and social upheaval feel frighteningly close.
Toni-Leslie James’ costumes and Matthew Armentrout’s wigs and hair were equally memorable, helping guide us through the decades while allowing the transformations of these characters to feel natural rather than theatrical. Together, the design team created an environment that felt remarkably complete.
The Cook is easily among the best productions I’ve seen this year. It is passionate, painful, beautifully performed, and profoundly human. I walked in knowing relatively little about this chapter of Cuban history and left thinking about what it means to remain loyal—to a person, to a promise, and even to a country—when everything around you has changed.
Berkeley Rep has opened its 2026/27 season with a production that left me stunned, moved, and still thinking about its characters long after leaving the theatre. The Cook runs at Berkeley Rep’s Peet’s Theatre through October 11, and this is one I wholeheartedly recommend making time for.
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