“Love is just a hole in the wall.” - Rod Stewart
Outside of Argentine restaurants and pizzerias, probably the next most common type of restaurants here in Buenos Aires is Peruvian. When I first started exploring them, now nearly two decades ago, the local Peruvian expat community estimated that there were around two hundred of them in town. The community, and then number of restaurants, has grown since then, and it wouldn’t surprise me to find that the number is probably north of three hundred now. It is, as I said even then, unlikely that I will ever get to them all, and even when I do, it’s rare that I’m going to go in-depth. Most get a cursory look over and trying one or two dishes, often the daily menú.
In Peruvian restaurants, the most common daily menú starts with a bowl of soup, usually carb-laden, with some vegetables and maybe a single piece of meat of some sort. It’s followed by your choice of somewhere between one and three options for the day - some sort of protein, often stewed so that they can make a big pot of it, accompanied by rice and often a second starch - potato, pasta, or legumes. Generally a refresco is included, which in Peru itself is usually a fresh fruit juice, but here in Buenos Aires tends to be something a bit closer to Kool-Aid. They’re a cheap lunch - current prices, depending on neighborhood, seem to range between about 6500 and 9000 pesos, or $5-7.
Let’s start with a full-on hole-in-the-wall. Lo de Yolita is located behind a shopping mall, and behind an unmarked door at Pichincha 272 in Once. There’s no bell, you just rap on the locked door and either Yolita or her assistant will open up. How did I find this place? Yolita brings a couple of youngsters to Henry’s marinera classes once a week. I think one is her son and one a nephew.
Given the exterior, I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting the expansive, and reasonably well furnished and decorated space inside. I like the open kitchen, and Yolita carries on conversations with her guests as she cooks.
Although not part of the daily menú, as she and Henry were talking, ceviche came up, and she brought us out a sample of her ceviche de pescado, a simple white fish version packed with flavor. We both particularly appreciated that she didn’t stint on the chilies after asking if liked things hot.
The menú here only has one option for the day. It began with the soup - unusually with big chunks of vegetable, a good broth, some rice, and a small piece of beef in each bowl. On the side, and we usually add to the daily soup, it is traditional to serve a wedge of lemon and a small bowl of ajicito, or freshly made hot sauce (usually a puree of limo chilies or rocoto with an egg yolk, salt, and a little water to smooth it out).
The main course of the day was a seco de carne. Basically a seco is braised meat that’s been cooked down with onion, garlic, cilantro, and dried chilies until there’s not a whole lot of liquid left - usually just enough to wet your rice. Yolita’s version is a little simpler than most we’ve had, with just rice and a couple of slices of cooked carrot on the side - more often it’s served with the rice and either white beans (in the north) or potatoes (in the south). Here’s a link to a walk-through of the recipe the way we make it.
Given that we were semi-invited to drop in and got a deeply discounted bill, I can’t tell you what the usual price for her menú is, but my guess is around the low end of the range, 6500 pesos or $5.
This one I spotted while walking around in Once, I’m fairly certain it’s brand new, as I walk the area often enough I’m sure I would have spotted it before. Picantería Tammy is at Junín 207. Truly a tiny place - just three tables, for a total of nine seats (you could squeeze in maybe three more, but things would be tight). The menu is very short - just the daily menú and a dozen other items, many of them simply variations on each other.
I had, when looking it up online, found on their Instagram account a photo of one of my favorite dishes, ajiaco, but it turned out that had been a menú of the day at some point in the past and wasn’t available. I began with the usual soup - a somewhat thicker than usual one, with finely chopped vegetables, and a little chicken. Given the intensity of the broth, I’d venture that they’re either loading it with stock cubes, or, a whole lot of MSG.
Of the two options for the, I decided on the fried fish with arvejitas, which is usually a scoop of thick split-pea soup, and rice. Flavor-wise, the split peas were delicious, but they were cooked down to a thick paste, kind of like what you get when you open a can of Campbell’s split pea soup, before you add the water. The star, however, was the fish, which was beautifully crisp on the outside, juicy and flaky on the inside, and with a lovely seasoning. Add in the lemon and hot sauce and I’d happily eat that anytime.
Service was a little standoff-ish, though that may be because I was both a stranger, and, well, a yanqui, because they were far friendlier with two other guests who stopped in at different points and were clearly regulars. 6500 pesos, $5, for the menú, and most of the a la carte dishes were quite reasonable as well.
Another invitation, this time a publicity one jointly sponsored between Perú Fusión restaurant, Condarco 18, in Flores, and a musical group (Juan Cholo Quintana) that Henry has connections with. The invite, for dinner, consisted of a pollo a la brasa for the table along with a pitcher of chicha morada, the sweet purple corn and fruit drink ubiquitous throughout Peru and Peruvian restaurants. And, of course, the show was included.
With four of us at the table we decided to spring for an appetizer - sharing a decent sized bowl of ceviche de pescado, a simple fish only ceviche. Despite asking for it picante, it arrived with basically no chilies in it, and a tad under-salted, though heavy on aji-no-moto, or, MSG. It was fresh, but not our favorite, albeit they have a fantastic rocoto based hot sauce that we added to it.
And, it’s not like we left a whole lot in the bowl.
On to the main course. Pollo a la brasa is basically a spit-roasted whole chicken that’s well lacquered in a marinade that’s traditionally a mix of beer, soy sauce, panca chili paste, cumin, black pepper, and oregano. Sometimes additional herbs as well. This was a pretty damned good version. The chicken was perfectly cooked, juicy and tender, the skin crispy and well flavored. The salad was decent - unusual to not include tomatoes, we thought. The fries could have been a little crisper, but they were good. Their regular price for this whole chicken family style meal is 25,000 pesos, or about $19. The ceviche was 12,000, so just under half that.
What interests me, in retrospect, is that I’m not sure what the “Fusión” in the name is meant for. Usually in Peruvian spots that indicates a Nikkei approach to cooking, a fusion with Japanese fare, or sometimes Chifa, with Chinese elements. I guess they did have a couple of chifa dishes on the menu, but most of it was pretty solidly traditional Peruvian cooking.