Part of the ‘Peruvian wave’ of restaurants to hit the capital in 2012, Lima London pitched itself squarely at the high end. The modish rear dining room mixes the hum of low-level beats with polite chatter; only the occasional Inca-patterned cushion adds colour.
Well-drilled staff bring out a medley of carefully crafted small plates. Our sea bream ceviche saw chunks of fish in ‘tiger’s milk’ (the ceviche marinade) flecked with shards of hot aji limo chilli, and pieces of roasted corn (added at the table so as not to lose their crunch). Later, we enjoyed thick wedges of suckling pig – part dense meat, part salty, crispy crackling – nicely matched by a rough corn mash spiked with two kinds of peppers (piquillo and green rocoto).
Only pudding went too far, with a perfectly adequate scoop of sweet dulce de leche ice-cream subjected to a barrage of unnecessary frills: from crumbs of Andean maca root (a radish-like indigenous plant reputed to enhance the libido) to a splodge of beetroot emulsion. The experience is prefaced by ‘complimentary’ breads and amuse bouches, but you’ll pay for it in the end, with a bill that’s as high as the Lost City.