"Dilema del cocinero: El poeta triste, escribe poemas y te hace llorar. El pintor triste pinta cuadros y te logra emocionar. El musico triste compone canciones y te hace cantar. Al cocinero triste, le está prohibido cocinar."
Cooks dilemma: the sad poet writes poems and makes you cry. The sad painter paints pictures and moves you emotionally. The sad musician composes songs and makes you sing. The cook is sad, he is forbidden to cook.
Words of wisdom from Gastón Acurio, celebrity chef and ambassador of Peruvian cuisine. He may even be South America’s most famous chef, and thankfully for us, he is not often sad. God forbid this man be banished from the kitchen.
I was lucky enough to go to three of his restaurants while I was in Peru, one of which I liked so much I went to both its outlets, first in Cusco and then in Arequipa.
I was lucky enough to go to three of his restaurants while I was in Peru, one of which I liked so much I went to both its outlets, first in Cusco and then in Arequipa.
Chicha is a perfect example of cocina novoandina (new Andean cuisine), a culinary trend widely attributed to Acurio, which reinvigorates traditional Andean dishes and produce with modern cooking techniques and ideas.
Take the cuy pekinés – crispy confit guinea pig with corn pancakes, rocoto pepper jelly and pickled turnip. OK, so Peking duck pancakes have been round for years in China but they have only more recently come to the table internationally. Peking duck pancakes are now one of the most popular dishes in Sydney and London’s Chinatown restaurants and in the UK most of the major supermarkets sell them as a ready-made meal. Cuy pekines then is Acurio’s Andean answer to this contemporary trend – a stylistic appropriation with a unique Peruvian twist.
I wish I had had the foresight to realise that my money would be running dry by the time I reached Lima and, therefore, that a visit to Astrid y Gaston – Gaston Acurio’s most well renowned restaurant – would not be on the cards. Cuy pekines is one of their signature dishes and I wanted to try it in one of the world’s top 50 best restaurants rather than one of its offshoots. Ah well, live and learn. I can talk the talk, but I haven’t actually tasted it.
In Chicha Cusco I tried instead the Solterito salad – perfect in its simplicity. Potatoes, beans and corn gave the dish substance but the overall effect was light and refreshing, fresh parsley and huacatay adding to a spring feeling. Rocoto pepper added a hint of chilli which, alongside the tangy dressing and salty Andean cheese, lifted the overall flavour of the dish and brought everything together.
I didn’t have much of an appetite that day so after much dithering over a potential second course, I decided in the end (much to the dismay of my waiter) that I would trial the mains once I got to Arequipa.
The menu there told me that “From April to December, Arequipa offers to Peru and the world some of the finest crustaceans; the river prawn.” At Chicha they offer a large selection of traditional and creative dishes “where the prawn can be enjoyed in all its splendor.”
So I knew I had to go for prawns but given a quarter of the menu was devoted to the creatures it was still a tough decision. Eventually I settled on the Torrejitas de Camarones which were described on the English menu as “Crunchy freshwater shrimps pan fried hash brown style”. Molded with creamypumpkin and potato, filled with prawns, crumbed and deep fried (I very much doubt the pan), I think they would be more aptly described as Andean fishcakes.
The cakes were beautifully crisp on the outside and soft within with the exception of the firm yet tender whole prawns at their centre. The prawns were succulent, plump and juicy, extremely fresh and well paired with the sweet pumpkin, although a stingy portion (one per cake) meant they were somewhat lost within it.
Hot rocoto salsa and the soothing huacatay mayonnaise made for good condiments and brought moisture to the dish, but as a main course it really could have done with some greens as well. The tomato, onion and huacatay salad which appeared elsewhere on the menu would have gone down a treat.
I didn’t have room for dessert but it seemed no great loss – they were not as interesting as the savoury dishes and there was less focus on regional specialties. Still, I had expected to see many of the same dishes on the Arequipa menu and was pleasantly surprised to find myself in the wrong. Even between those neighbouring regions there was a huge variety of dishes.
La Mar was about one thing and one thing only. Ceviche.
Actually, that is not entirely true; the restaurant serves all sorts of seafood dishes but they do call themselves a cebicheria and that is what I was there for.
The best way to try a range of ceviches was to order the degustation. The degustation is actually supposed to be a starter to share between several people, and I must admit I did struggle to eat so much (semi-)raw fish on my own, but I knew it would be my only opportunity.
La Mar’s five most popular ceviches are represented: clasico, mixto, chalaco, nikei and chifa chifa.
The clasico was the traditional ceviche – fish of the day in the classic marinade, leche de tigre and Acurio’s version was textbook; the leche de tigre was well balanced, just the right ratio of lime to stock, lifted with plenty of coriander, a little chilli and some finely sliced red onion.
I had never had anything other than fish in a ceviche and was surprised to find the mixto (mixed seafood) so pleasant. I have never been a big fan of raw crustaceans or cephalopods, but the octopus and squid in this ceviche were so soft and so tender. I think I liked them best, although that may be because they surpassed my expectations.
The chalaco was advertised as different from the other ceviches because rocoto pepper was added to the traditional leche de tigre. This was my favourite of all the marinades, the rocoto adding sweetness as well as spice, countering the acidity of the lime and producing a wonderful depth of flavour. As far as I could tell though it was exactly the same dressing as the one on the mixto, which was fine by me since I liked it so much, but that did mean the garnish was the only difference between the two.
The chifa chifa and nikei were Acurio’s novoandina versions – using flavours and ingredients from Chinese and Japanese cuisines to transform Peru’s most famous national dish. Of the two I preferred the chifa chifa, by far the most complex of all five ceviches and certainly the most interesting. Rice wine vinegar replaced the traditional lime and a little sugar was added for a sweet and sour taste heightened with a pinch of chilli. Studded with crunchy peanuts, crisp spring onion and refreshing strips of pickled cucumber it was a triumph of contrasting textures.
The nikei, on the other hand, was just tuna in a typical and rather too sweet Japanese dressing; although the tuna was melt in the mouth perfection, that alone was not enough to hold my attention.
Tourists are right to heed warnings not to eat ceviche in cheap and potentially unhygenic venues .The closer to the coast the better. La Mar is not only close to the coast but a top end restaurant. The quality of the seafood here is exceptional. It doesn't get fresher than this. They have so much confidence in their seafood that it has barely caught a glimpse of its marinade before its on its way to the table.
I had every intention of following the degustation with another dish but after a kilo of raw fish to myself I was defeated. Some of the blame probably lies with these delicious vegetable crisps and dips as well:
Acurio’s restaurants share a central mission to “satisfy the tastes of travellers and locals revealing the diverse cuisine and ingredients native to the provinces of Peru”. They achieve it by focusing on local, sustainably sourced ingredients and a diverse range of dishes, even between sister restaurants based on the same concept. Whether Acurio will achieve his grand vision of ensuring that all who visit his restaurants “discover, enjoy and make theirs forever, that marvelous invention called Peruvian cuisine” remains to be seen, but he’s certainly well on his way. He can count me among the newly converted.
