La Cocina Peruana - 103 Avoca Street, Randwick

I have made a new friend recently. His name is Fuzzy. Okay, his real name is actually Faisal, but if anyone could be called Fuzzy and pull it off it would be this guy. The thing about Fuzzy is that he’s been close friends with the Bestie, for at least six years and the Writer has known him all this time as well, yet somehow the Fuzz and I hadn’t crossed paths until the Bestie had a housewarming when she finally moved out of home. I was introduced to this guy with the biggest smile I’d ever seen and an infectious laugh who kept me constantly entertained and made me feel witty and interesting just being with him. For an instantly successful dinner party, just add Fuzzy. Anyway, Fuzzy is becoming a fixture in our social world and on this particular Saturday night we were heading out for dinner to La Cocina Peruana. The restaurant choice was a nod to Fuzzy’s impending visit to South America which includes Peru. None of us had eaten Peruvian food before so we were intrigued to delve into the cuisine that Fuzzy would be subsisting on for weeks in Peru.

The restaurant is smaller inside than it appears from the street, the bright, cheerful red walls with its inspiring pictures of Peru (“Curzco, yep I’m going there… Macchu Picchu, oh definitely going there…”) give an impression of spaciousness. We are seated at generously sized tables covered with Peruvian tablecloths and the ubiquitous white paper, with the four of us seated at a table that could easily seat six. It is an unusual luxury after the numerous Sydney restaurants that seek to cram as many covers as possible into their floor space. This laidback approach to the seating flows through to the service from our friendly waitress Audrey, who wanders off whilst advising us on the menu twice, to seat new diners and then to fetch them menus. Granted, we were dithering somewhat, torn between choices of numerous stews and stir-frys that all looked delicious in the tiny photos on the menu, but a little too similar to make quick decisive selections. For our entrees we settle on the chicken tamale (Tamales Peruanos, $8.50) and take Audrey’s recommendation to try the beef heart, marinated with chilli and garlic and served on skewers (Anticuchos, $9.50). There is a little trepidation on the Bestie's part but in the spirit of trying ‘authentic’ Peruvian food for a proper test run for Fuzzy, we all agree to give it a go.

The distracting business of ordering over, we settle down to our BYO Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon (corkage $2.50 per head) and catching up, with the Bestie and I soon deep in a discussion about Nigella Lawson’s impending publicity tour the following week, which the Bestie was assisting to co-ordinate. Distracting us from our chat about exactly what food should be ordered to satisfy Nigella during her publicity schedule, is an exclamation “You could see the rings?” Completely bemused we find out the boys had channelled their inner science geeks and uncovered Fuzzy’s ownership of a telescope and the Writer's love of astronomy and amazement at the ability to see Saturn’s rings through the telescope when Fuzzy takes the telescope camping. Camping? This girl does not camp. Ever. My last camping trip was in year 8 at the tender age of 10, with my predominant recollection being that I ate two tubes of condensed milk on the first day (foolish for a lactose intolerant) and vomited the next morning. Charming. Yet, such is the enthusiasm and charm of the Fuzz that somehow camping seems to be a super exciting, fun idea and it may even have been me who suggested that we all go camping.

The arrival of our entrees temporarily stems the unstoppable roll of camping ideas. My layperson’s expectation of ‘hot tamales’ was subverted by the appearance of the real thing, more like lukewarm single tamale, a dark yellow corn tamale with a surprising texture, it appears dense but crumbles away lightly in the mouth. The shredded chicken of the tamale only featured along part of its length and we work out quickly that a mouthful of the tamale is taken to another level by the addition of the salsa criolla which accompanies it, sliced red onion in lemon juice, adding a freshness that makes the dish truly delicious. I must confess to having waited for everyone else at the table to take a piece of the beef heart from the skewer before I tried it myself, not being a natural aficionado of offal. The texture is quite firm but not chewy in the way that an overcooked piece of steak would be. Again, it is the accompaniment that lifts this entrée from merely being novel meat on a skewer. In a tiny dish next to the skewers is a bright orange ground salsa that offers a big kick of chilli that fades away without taking out the taste buds.

The restaurant has filled up and we’ve become more raucous, entertaining each other with stories of camping, school Outward Bound epics and a lively debate of the merits of the drop dunny versus digging your own toilet (digging wins). We establish that although well equipped in the gas stove and cooking department, Fuzzy doesn’t have a tent large enough for all four of us. He describes his tent as a “How you doin’”[1] tent, comfortable for one, but if you add another person…The Bestie comes to the rescue with an aunt who not only has a tent big enough for three but inflatable air mattresses as well. Sounds like we’ll be ‘glamping’[2] it up! We’ve barely embarked on an analysis of logistics, how many cars, where and when, when the mains come in quick succession. The presentation is simple, it’s hard to do much with stews and beans that ooze their way into every spare part of the plate but it fits with the laidback, home style vibe of the place. We were sharing the mains, with the Lomo Combinado ($17.50) coming first, strips of beef stir fried with sautéed onions, tomato and capsicum and served with beans and a perfect upturned bowl-shaped mound of steamed rice on the side of the plate. The term ‘stir-fry’ always comes with Asian associations for me, being a dry stir-fry, but this one is redolent in a delicious sauce that is awake with the bright flavours of the tomato and capsicum, which meld nicely with the more mellow beans and rice.

Our seafood dish was ordered from the specials board at the suggestion of our waitress Audrey. It is described as “3 in 1” ($22.50) and she tells us that it includes the Arroz con Mariscos we had initially ordered, a Peruvian paella-like dish of saffron rice and seafood, but also comes with fish and seafood. We went with her suggestion but agreed unanimously when it came to the table that it was nothing like our ideas of what the dish would be. It had the ubiquitous bowl-shaped mound of rice, although this rice was the brown of the pan fried Arroz con Mariscos, but the rest of the plate was a seafood stew, which yes, did have the promised fish and seafood. The thick, pale orange sauce was speckled with small pieces of slightly chewy calamari, king prawns, the fish and the odd scallop. The colour came from use of tomato and saffron in the sauce, with a robust seafood flavour that spoke of a good fish stock. We’d almost finished demolishing the beef and seafood when the lamb stew arrived at the table. This was our selection from the “Inca Stews” part of the menu, being Seco de Cordero (Lamb, $17.50) a dish from Lima, of diced lamb cooked in a coriander sauce and spices and served with steamed rice and beans. The coriander is a more subtle use than the strength of flavour that often features in Asian or Indian cooking. The lamb seems to make a cameo appearance in the dish, with the dominant substance being an unidentified vegetable that soaks up the flavours in the way that bamboo shoots can in a good curry. The prevalence of potato elsewhere on the menu leads me to assume that this is our mystery vegetable. The beef is my favourite, Fuzzy’s is the seafood and the Writer and the Bestie choose the lamb as their standout dish, so no main course goes unloved at our table and we clean the plates.

As the evening winds down and the other tables empty out, our resident sweet tooths cannot resist trying a little Peruvian dessert. The Writer chooses the Picarones ($8.50), Peruvian style homemade doughnuts, deep fried and served with “Chancaca” syrup and Fuzzy goes for the Arroz con Leche ($5.50), homemade creamy rice pudding studded with sultanas. The Picarones could have been tasty, but are so deep fried that the flavour of the doughnut itself is overborne by the oil and crispiness of the exterior, resulting primarily in a textural experience of crunch. Fuzzy was happy with his Arroz con Leche until he discovered a rogue eyelash when he was half way through the dish. The waitress removed it with apologies but no replacement dessert was forthcoming from the kitchen, or offered, which surprised us. However, it was removed from our bill.

Despite the blip of dessert, our Peruvian adventure left us confident that Fuzzy will have plenty of good home style dishes to enjoy when he travels through Peru later in the year. But before he leaves, we’re heading off for our camping trip in August– my first in 14 years! I’ll be bringing the pre-mixed pancakes and marshmallows.
[1] “How you doin” is from Joey on the 1990s show Friends, it was his big pick up line!
[2] ‘Glamping’ is one of those hideous new conflated words that means ‘glamorous camping’.