The Times interviews a handful of these citizens, like one Lisset Felipe, a government-employed air-conditioner saleswoman, who explains that she hasn't bought a single onion or green pepper this year, and that even garlic has become a rarity. If you're wondering, "What American tourist is going to Cuba to buy onions?," the issue really comes down to Cuba's booming industry of private restaurants and hotels that cater solely to fat-pocketed visitors.

Of course, we can't and shouldn't take all the blame: The Times acknowledges there has "long been a divide between Cubans and tourists, with beach resorts and Havana hotels effectively reserved for outsiders willing to shell out money for a comfortable version of Cuba." Furthermore, the Cuban government has failed to generate adequate supply to meet the obviously growing demand, and has failed to crack down on a growing trend of middlemen buyers employed by private businesses to scour the city for produce.

Eschewing the state-run markets, which are often filled with sub-par goods, restaurants are now employing units of buyers who scour the city’s more expensive private groceries, black-market outposts, and even go directly to the farms to obtain quality produce—leaving ordinary Cubans in the dust.

There is hope, however: As American-Cuban relations began to warm up, there’s a possibility that the longstanding U.S. embargo will be lifted by Congress, allowing Americans to invest in the Cuba’s economy the way they’re investing in its private tourism sector. But it's a hot-button issue with a long way to go for an economic experiment that's yet to be tested.