GRACE AND FLAVOUR

It’s no wonder Paddington Bear couldn’t wait to leave Peru, says Grace Dent, after a trip to

Off to Shoreditch, corner of Redchurch Street, this week to the latest Peruvian hot spot Andina. I’ve never been to Peru, never danced the Ancash in Lima, never knitted a shawl in Machu Picchu, never even got off with one of those blokes with panpipes who honk through ‘Annie’s Song’ by John Denver outside the Islington Sainsbury’s. All I know of Peru I have learned via the London restaurant scene. All London’s Peruvian-influenced restaurants — Coya, Lima, Sushisamba — are ferociously upbeat, joyous in décor, assertive in cocktail list, buoyant in up-tempo Muzak, and chipper of staff. I can only conclude there are no depressed citizens in Peru, except, of course, Paddington Bear, which is why Paddington took illegal alien status in Blighty, and why he loved marmalade sandwiches, so sick to the back teeth was he of quinoa, purple potatoes, choclo and ceviche.

Andina is rather hot in reputation right now. Apparently the brunches are excellent. Smoked trout and quinoa pancakes, pork belly chicharrones, Peruvian porridge. I called for a table for dinner and was fitted in at 6.30pm, which is the time one might eat in a hospital ward if the auxiliary staff were going to a staff party. In the space of the phone call I was told in non-negotiable terms that they were having the table back at 8.30pm and if I was more than 15 minutes late, they’d give it away. ‘Well, thanks for letting me in at all, I feel jolly honoured!’ I replied in tones dripping with such sarcastic bile I had to go and floss my teeth. I passed drink and food ordering duties on to a friend, who is also currently my personal trainer — because I’m the kind of predictable media wazzock who has one. He was dubious about our visit as he’s currently counselling against my cocktail habit, and apparently Pisco Sours, despite containing egg white, are not a protein source. ‘You could have one and then stop,’ he said, to which I snorted, because who since the time of the Norte Chico civilisation in 3000 BC has ever drunk one singular Pisco Sour and said, ‘That’s enough.’ To