Relevant pages... Cuzco Lima

Haute cuisine? You find it, of course, in the Andes

Jesus Adorno, director of Le Caprice and Daphne's in London, says the food of Peru is 'up there with the best' (Filed: 26/07/2003)

Mention Peru to British travellers and they will respond with Machu Picchu, pan pipes and llamas. Mention Peruvian cuisine and you will doubtless be faced with a wall of silence. Yet there are many who regard it as the most underrated in the world. The great Auguste Escoffier, for example, ranked it third behind French and Chinese food.

I had heard much talk in London dining circles suggesting that Peruvian cuisine was finally catching on here. So, as someone who has for the past 25 years been associated with haute cuisine in London and who before that had grown up in Latin America - Santa Cruz, Bolivia, to be precise - I felt well placed to take a trip to Peru and put Escoffier's judgement to the test.

The Inca civilisation touched many countries in Latin America, but Peru and Bolivia have the most in common - Bolivia was actually known as Alto Peru (High Peru) and Peru as Bajo Peru (Low Peru). And before independence from Spain, the two were one country. I grew up in the lowlands of Bolivia, part of the Amazon Basin, so the Inca Empire never reached my region.

This trip was not only to discover the pleasures of Peruvian cooking but also to learn a little more about my Inca roots.
My first culinary stop was in Lima, at a restaurant called Rafael (San Martin 300; 00 51 1242 4149). Rafael Osterling is the chef-owner and he had worked in London for some time, at Bibendum and Le Poissonnerie. He is like a young Marco Pierre White, full of passion for his food, but better-looking.

Starters were sashimi tuna, which was a delight, and grilled squid on a bed of pimentos. The middle course was scallops a la parmigiana - butter-like scallops - which were just perfect, and ravioli filled with pumpkin and mascarpone cheese with courgette flowers, a mouth-watering dish; main courses were sea bass on a puree of broad beans and slices of baby tomatoes and baby goat accompanied by a madeira jus, slices of runner beans and fried plantain.

This is a first-class restaurant that would not be out of place in London. A three-course dinner for two with wine costs between £38 and £45 a head.

The next day I travelled to Cusco, the Inca capital, and stayed at the Hotel Monasterio, a 400-year-old former monastery, which in my view is the best hotel in Peru. The following morning I got up to take the train to Machu Picchu, where, at the Sanctuary Lodge, I ate my second marvellous Peruvian meal.

I started with kingfisher ceviche - raw fish marinated in a spicy lime juice - accompanied by sweet baby corn grains. My companion had river crayfish, which were juicy and sweet, with mango and avocado, dressed with a mango vinaigrette. The main course was alpaca medallions in a black pepper corn jus served with a local root vegetable called oca and a basil dressing.

I hadn't eaten alpaca before and was pleasantly surprised - it was better than venison, very tender and not gamey at all. I didn't try the pudding. I suppose when you are dining nearly 10,000ft above sea level you lose your appetite.

The Sacred Valley is a place of secrets, and one of the best-kept has been the restaurant at the hacienda of Huayo Ccari, about an hour's drive from the ruins of Pisac. Huayo Ccari overlooks the River Urubamba, and lunch there (three courses for £16, bottle of good wine from £10) was idyllic. Unusually for Peru, the chef is a woman, Ana Maria Barberis de Lambarri. I started with a salad of artichokes, tomatoes and beetroot and then for the main course chose salmon with corn, rice, sliced boiled potatoes and runner beans - all rather straightforward Peruvian fare, but served in a wonderful location (your tour operator should be able to book a table for you).

Back in the Monasterio Hotel, I had dinner at the Illary restaurant, run by a charismatic Frenchman named Bruno Giordano. He has managed to fuse French and international cuisine with Peruvian, and the result is spectacular. I had an open ravioli with sautéed sea food and a julienne of vegetables and chopped parsley with a hint of garlic sauce, while my companion had creamed asparagus soup accompanied by crayfish and porcini mushrooms.

My main course was grilled Angus beef tenderloin with confit of tomatoes and potato gratin, and a beef jus flavoured with thyme. My companion plumped for grilled fillet of Pacific sole, accompanied by piquillo bell peppers filled with ricotta cheese and fresh herbs, served with steamed spinach dumplings and tomato sauce with pine kernels.

A trip to the market invariably offers insights into local cuisine. There are two in Cusco: the tourist market, which sells arts and crafts, and the larger produce market. Bruno took me to the latter, and, as he strode through this vast and chaotic place in his chef's whites, shouting out greetings to his suppliers, it was clear that he was a big figure in the local community. I would recommend a visit to this market as it provides an extraordinary insight into the lives and traditions of the Cusqueños and the people from the surrounding villages.

Later I was invited to try a popular local dish, pachamanca, which was prepared in the small garden of a private house on the outskirts of Cusco. It comprises three different types of meat (chicken, lamb and pork) wrapped separately in silver foil and buried under the ground on hot stone and later covered with damp grass, plastic sheeting and finally soil, so the meat is steamed in its own juices. After half an hour or so it is dug out and laid in a dish for you to help yourself.

The result was not altogether to my taste and I would not recommend it to any of my customers at Le Caprice. But one of the reasons we travel abroad is to discover new things, even if they do not always please.

For my final meal, I returned to Lima - to the Matsuei Sushi Bar (Manuel Banon 260, San Isidro; 00 51 1422 4323), where Nobu Matsuhisa, founder and owner of the eponymous chain of Japanese restaurants, worked in the early 1990s. It turned out to be the fusion highlight of the trip.

Among the dishes were nigiri sushi (pieces of sushi rice, with slices of fresh raw fish and seafood, with wasabi in between); inkamaki (shrimp, smoked trout, avocado and sesame seeds); filete de pescado al ajo (deep-fried fish fillets with butter and garlic); ebitendon (deep-fried shrimps); kushiyaki (broiled fish fillets with ginger soya sauce); and beef tataki (roasted beef served with ponzu, a blend of soya sauce with lemon spices). The chefs were on view, preparing and serving dishes in front of us. It's not surprising that Nobu learned so much here.

In the end my culinary journey through Peru taught me three things. First, that there is a new generation of Peruvian chefs who are passionate about food and the best come up to the standards of the top restaurants in Europe. Second, the abundance and variety of seafood is breathtaking. This should not be too surprising given the length of the country's Pacific coastline, but there are many countries with access to the sea that fail to take advantage of their assets.

Third, the fusion food, with its Oriental, French and Italian influences, is brilliant, mainly because it remains true to Peruvian culture and creativity. These were not menus manufactured to please the palates of unadventurous tourists but examples of real, innovative haute cuisine.

Escoffier was right: Peruvian food is right up there with the best.