Pablo Iglesias Opens Madrid Bar With €3,100 Capital

Pablo Iglesias Opens a Tavern in Lavapiés with €3,100

There is a venue at number 8 Ave María Street, in Lavapiés, nine minutes on foot from Puerta del Sol and the Congress of Deputies. There, next Tuesday, the shutters will rise for the Garibaldi tavern, Pablo Iglesias's new business venture. The former Podemos founder has partnered with poet Sebastián Fiorilli and singer-songwriter Carlos Ávila. The company was registered on February 16 with declared social capital of €3,100. With these figures on the table, the question of whether this is a business or an act of activism with a tablecloth answers itself.

What is the Garibaldi tavern and who is behind it?

The name is not accidental: it nods to the Garibaldi Brigade, the unit of Italian volunteers that fought in defense of the Second Spanish Republic. The premises were previously occupied by the gastrobar El dinosaurio estaba allí, very close to the Filmoteca Española. The idea is that beyond food and drink, there will be book presentations, poetry readings, and occasional acoustic concerts. According to reports, the project's development was kept under maximum secrecy. The menu antiestéticatures salmorejo, pork cheeks, enchiladas, sandwiches, toast, and a selection of vegan options.

Revolutionary Cocktails and a Predictable Menu

Under the quote attributed to Giuseppe Garibaldi —"Bacchus has drowned more men than Neptune"— the cocktail list includes margarita Marcos, mojito Fidel, daiquiri Ché, and zainoni Gramsci. The majority reaction was one of annoyance: no wordplay, just names from the historical left attached to standard drinks. In response, alternatives circulate that, admittedly, have more wit: Ché on the Beach, Marxgarita, Bloody Lenin. And a phrase that sums up the general tone: the sickle and Martini, the joke made into a menu item.

Which Beers and Wines Does the Garibaldi Tavern Serve?

Basque beers Keler and Bilbao, Malaga's Victoria, Catalan Estrella, and Valencian Turia, plus Chilean and Argentine wines. Neither Mahou nor Estrella Galicia; this absence was interpreted by some as an insult to Madrid and Galician customers. Others pointed out something more prosaic: these are brands found in any supermarket, and presenting them as a curated selection is amusing. Comparisons with northern hospitality — craft beer, fresh fish even in neighborhood menus— left the capital's offer looking poor. No one forgave the verdict against the Malaga beer.

How Much Will the Garibaldi Tavern Waiters Earn?

There is no public figure. No collective agreement, hours, or staff details: the business is registered with €3,100 in social capital and no visible payrolls. This lack of transparency is exactly what has turned the issue into a test of consistency. An ironic calculation circulates, suggesting €2,000 for twenty weekly hours, which no one has bothered to deny. The serious question remains the same as always in the hospitality sector: how many hours, with what social security contributions, and what tips. For now, the owner holds the answer.

From Criticizing Capital to Running a Bar

Here comes the most repeated argument: those who aspire to eliminate the exploitation of man by man should not start a business that lives off serving tables. Some take it to the extreme, claiming that consistency would require a self-service model where each customer carries their own tray and cleans their own table; a bar with waiters and tablecloths would be inherited classism. On the other side weighs the obvious: a local creates jobs and pays taxes, and the sin, if it exists, lies in the conditions, not in opening the shutters. The suspicion that the poet and the singer-songwriter do the work while someone else provides the capital runs through the entire conversation.

The Bar as a National Economic Destination

There is a line of argument that transcends ideologies: in Spain, local entrepreneurship almost always ends up in hospitality. From a university elite, according to this critique, one expected a tech, data, or nanotechnology company, not pork cheeks. The sector itself is viewed with irony these days: building blocks and opening bars as national R&D, noted someone. And with a bitter note: it is exactly what a 50-year-old worker does when fired after three decades in the same factory. Only that person doesn't make headlines.

Graffiti on the Facade and the Unwanted Cocktail

The tavern proge up with graffiti from a group demanding the removal of the Durruti cocktail. The irony speaks for itself: a venue named after revolutionaries, targeted by those theoretically further left than it. The business's own account thanked the media attention and confirmed the opening with "good drink and food, music, poetry, and camaraderie." It didn't lack those who joked that permanent security would be needed at the door.

It remains to be seen how long a venue survives whose best marketing campaign is political. And how long it takes for the first payroll to appear in a conversation that no longer talks about cocktails.