Fruit, Vegetable & Mushroom Ceviches
The art of balancing acidity without the fish.
At Llama Inn, a Peruvian restaurant in Brooklyn, there are a number of untraditionally prepared dishes inspired by Peruvian ingredients that caught my attention on the new brunch menu, like the corn empanadas with a curry sauce, or their take on pulpo al olivo (written as octopus carpaccio), with a piquillo pepper relish on it. No dish stood out more than a ceviche without any fish in it. It was made with mango.
Llama Inn’s mango ceviche was sweet, spicy and had layers of texture that collectively caught me by surprise. Luis Cornejo, who was the opening chef at Llama Inn in Madrid, and before that worked at Yakumanka in Barcelona, a casual Peruvian restaurant chain from Gastón Acurio’s restaurant group, recently moved to New York and was named head chef at the Brooklyn restaurant, bringing his own touches on Peruvian dishes. First, he peels Costa Rican mango and preserves it in syrup. Separately he makes a sofrito by sautéing garlic, white onion, ají amarillo, cinnamon, cumin, turmeric, lemongrass and galangal, which is then mixed with a vegan leche de tigre made with Thai yellow curry cream, with candied ají amarillo and vegan tiger milk. The sauce is mixed with chunks of mango and garnished with toasted red quinoa, fried chulpe corn and pea leaf.
“I like the dish to have an explosion of flavor,” Cornejo tells me. “But at the same time each ingredient and texture to be clearly identifiable.”
The mango ceviche replaced a tomato ceviche that was on the menu previously. When making a vegan ceviche, he says it is essential to adjust the acidity.
“I am not referring to the classic acidity of a ceviche,” he says. “I think it should be more balanced, with sweet nuances or flavors that enhance the main product.”
For Cornejo, it stops being a ceviche in the strict sense. They call this section of the menu – which has standard ceviches, a tiradito and wagyu tartar – crudos to avoid confusion. He says tradition can be used as a starting point, not necessarily as a restriction, though it’s still important to understand its origins.
“It becomes a really good dish, inspired by the characteristic acidity of the Peruvian world,” he says.
The line for what defines a ceviche has always been blurry. The recipe began as a basic Pre-Colombian method for preserving fish and its ingredients. Gradually, techniques were influenced by one culture after the other, and shifts in its identity occurred in whatever landscape it is prepared in. Occasionally, I see vegan ceviches listed on menus that are essentially salads with a sexier name. A dash of citrus of vinegar doesn’t necessarily make something a ceviche. If anything, making ceviche is the art of seeking balance in acidity with salt, sweetness and spice.
In Peru, and not just in fine dining restaurants, but in regional markets and huariques far from anything considered cool, ceviches without fish are a thing. They aren’t called vegan ceviches or meant to be a trend, but they seek out acidic balance all the same.