A Very Fishy Day in Lima

"I do have very high customer service standards - I'd send back sushi because it's too fishy." - Greg McHugh, English writer/actor

I’m going to be a contrarian here. I can’t begin to count the number of recommendations and laudatory videos, and even a Netflix special that tout the place we went to for lunch. It’s a version of what Limeños call a huarique, which is generally a sort of hole in the wall place that’s famous for one particular dish, maybe two. Often they don’t serve anything else.

I’ve spent a bit of time in Lima seeking those out, and among my favorites are Mi Perú on Plaza Butters for their Concentrado de cangrejo, a rich crab soup; El Oscar for their Ceviche de conchas negras, a ceviche made using little black ark clams; Don Ricardo for their Hueveras fritas, fried fish roe, both of those spots in Rimac; and Brisas de Uyacali, in Surco, for their Tacacho con cecina, an Amazon dish of mashed roasted plantain with a partially dried heavily seasoned pork.

This place will not be joining that list. Al Toke Pez, Av. Angamos Este 886, here in Surquillo, is so hyped in so many places (including being featured in the Lima episode of Netflix’s Street Food: Latin America series), that it gets a line up out front starting before they even open. We arrived about 10 minutes before and there were four folk already there, and within minutes the place filled up. Almost everyone was a tourist. Several, clearly not speaking Spanish, simply had their phones out, showing the waitress pictures of what they wanted to eat. The claim to fame here is their combinado, a platter of ceviche (choice of fish or fish & shellfish), chicharrones (fried fish strips), and arroz con mariscos (stir fried rice and shellfish). We decided just to try the ceviche, and ordered one of each type.

But before I get to the food - the place. We knew it was going to be a hole in the wall. But it’s filthy. And so are the staff, in aprons that look like they haven’t been washed in days. There are bits of food and splattered oil and flour all over the place, and no effort is made to clean it up as they go. The owner, the cook in the middle of the photo, is famous for his “charisma, good humor, and joy”. None of that was showing - he was dour, borderline rude, and seemed like he couldn’t have cared less about either food or customers. Dishes were nearly tossed on the counter, without a word, nor a smile.

We watched as he prepared a huge skillet of arroz con mariscos, tossing a bowlful of mixed shellfish, onions, garlic, and whatever seasoning, all at the same time, into some oil in the pan, over high heat, and then just walking away for 7-8 minutes, before returning and dumping some rice on top, mixing it up, covering it and cooking it for another 5-6 minutes. That shellfish was “hammered” as the official culinary term goes, and the whole mixture just looked unpleasant.

And the two ceviches, it would be polite to call them mediocre. The fish, mushy cubes of bonito, the leche de tigre near flavorless and completely lacking in any heat. Is this a change I’ve missed in Lima’s ceviche scene? So far every ceviche we’ve tried this visit has had the chilies or ajicito on the side, and none in the ceviche itself. The shellfish in the mixto could have been used as rubber bullets. We mostly ate the corn and sweet potatoes, poked around at the proteins, hoped for the best as it cured more (the leche was added at last moment), but alas, it didn’t get any better. We paid and left (ceviches run about $8.50 each). Far and away the worst ceviche we’ve had in Peru.

After lunch a solo meander through Miraflores… because Henry was off to the center of town to… umm… shop.

Lots of street art, and I love the little roundabouts peppered through the neighborhood.

A stop for a much needed espresso and a not so needed (though still tasty) raspberry bar at Neira Café Lab, Ca. Enrique Palacios 1074 (they have a couple of other outlets in the city). Excellent coffee, some of the best I’ve had in Lima.

Mostly, though, I just went and walked along the boardwalk above the ocean.

Henry decided to just eat some leftovers for dinner and then meet up with a friend from the dance world - she came over to where we’re staying late evening, and the two of them headed back over to Barbarian, the beer bar I posted about yesterday. I headed out for sushi. I have a few places on my list, but a couple weren’t open on a Monday evening, and a couple didn’t have reservations at the time I wanted. I did a search for the neighborhood and picked the highest rated sushi bar. It wasn’t on my list, but the menu looked interesting, and it was close enough to walk to. Serendipity in the offing?

I simply walked in to Yakimo, Av. la Paz 681, Miraflores, and asked for a seat at the sushi bar. There were only a couple of customers there, and only a couple more came in while I was there. That’s not generally a good sign.

Now, you can’t seem them, but there are two guys sitting next to me at the sushi bar - which only has four seats. And they’re not eating. But they are constantly talking with the two sushimen, and showing them things on their phones, and having sort of whispered conversations. When the guy in front of me started having difficulty with one of the preparations, one of the seated guys turned to me and apologized, explaining, as we ended up in a long conversation over the evening, that these two are “trying out” to be their new assistant sushi chefs, the actual chef is on vacation in Japan, the place has only been open a few months, they had a temp replacement for him, but he was a drunk and they fired him, and so, the owner, his administrative guy, and the waitstaff are basically teaching these guys the particular recipes from the menu as they go. He promised a big discount for being a good sport (it didn’t materialize, though he did have the guys send me extra plates of food).

Despite learning on the job, they did quite well overall. I was impressed with some of the creativity in the dishes, and the fish was pristinely fresh. It’s all Nikkei style, so various creative toppings and sauces. I’m not going to show all the different things tried.

An interesting fortune jack (related to amberjack, or hamachi) tiradito with a smoked leche de tigre (they smoke it in the moment using a smoking gun), blended with oyster sauce.

And a perhaps slightly too intensely wasabi leche de tigre for their fortune jack and scallop ceviche.

A bit on the pricey side - a pair of any of the nigiri running around $7; ceviches and tiraditos running around $10-15. It’s hard for me to judge the service, given the situation, and of course, we don’t know if either of these two guys will end up being there after their trial run. My sense was, though, that the staff really care about the place and making it work.